Training the Priestess

Training the Priestess
Summary: Tylon's lessons with Thomas continue, though the lesson takes a whole different turn when Destrian joins them and talk turns to burning and mares
Date: 29 July 2013
Related: None
Players:
Destrian Thomas Tylon 

Laketown - Temple Gardens
A simple stone path leads out into the garden of the Temple of Four. Several trees offer shade along with small stone benches for people to rest and enjoy the peace and fresh air of the garden. Though by far the offerings are more practical with the many herbs and vegetable patches that exist within the flowers and bushes that exist. A close look by one knowledgeable in the area, would notice that most of the flower and bushes themselves have purpose beyond scenery. Near the back of the garden is a small orchard with various fruit bearing trees : apple, pear, peach, and cherry.

Of the many paths that branch out in the garden, one can be seen leading over to an area that has been setup for the purpose of weapons and combat training for the Chosen of the Temple. Targets and practice dummies are arranged in several places along with open spaces for those more inclined for working in pairs.

Mon Jul 29, 1329

Life was somewhat settling back to normal, least as far as Temple matters were concerned. That meant getting back into the normal routines, regular paperwork and back to lessons that were meant to be learned. Even for the Mother Superior, as one lesson alone did not make one very skilled in wielding much of anything. Dressed in those practices leathers once more, Tylon padded her way towards the practice circles. With the lack of robes, it was far easier to see the sway of her hips as she walked, the curves of her form. This also likely the one and only situation she seemed to actually be caught wearing footwear upon the grounds.

Thomas is standing by the weapon's rack, his eyes searching for Tylon. He is wearing his usual, the Chosen's Brigandine. There, he spots Tylon and even from this distance he can see her form. A smile begins to show, his eyes taking her in. As she nears he coughs "You're late," he says in his best cross voice. But after the time the two of them have spent together perhaps she knows now when he is putting on airs.

A smile easily comes as Tylon spies Thomas waiting for her, stepping over to him. An eyebrow raising just lightly at his attempt to chastize her mild tardiness,"My apologies, Brother. I fear there was a mild matter that needed my attention in the infirmary, it took longer than I expected. And I have such little practice at squeazing into these things, it is no quick matter, and there was no one to help." She gives a small shrug before casually adding,"Though perhaps someone may be about to help me out of them later. " A small glint flickering in her green eyes before she looks to the weapons rack,"Are we to begin then?"

The mock anger that Thomas tries to portray fails as he takes in her form. "You look good in those," he says finally with a smile. He turns to the rack, and bypasses the wooden weapons and instead draws out the real thing. "So now, we practice for real." And he hands one out for Tylon to take.

Over in the practice circles, Tylon is dressed in practice leathers and appears to be starting up a swords lessons with Thomas. "I am glad you still appreciate the look," though an eyebrow rises a little when the wooden weapons are bypassed and he is handing her a real weapon instead,"I suppose this step was required to come at some point." Her fingers curl about the pommel of the weapons he hands to her.

Thomas easily handles the small dirk in his hand and nods to Talyon "I just figured it was time to really learn. Practice as you would fight, sweat here saves blood out there," he tells her, lessons he has learned all this life. "You do remember how to hold it, yes?" He asks mockingly "And yes, I do like the look. Always will, Ty."

"…One of the mares — Buttercup — she burns," Destrian remarks from just inside the entrance that connects the garden to the temple. The tone of his voice is heavy with patience — longsuffering, rather — as though he has repeated the sentence several times over in the last few minutes. "Can you not hear it, Brother? Go. Look. Smell. The stallions can."

"But — " says another voice — male, boyish, confused — "She… uh? Smell, Chosen? What do you mean, she — oh." The sound of youthful footfalls in a hurry echoes out into the garden, growing fainter as the young boy (to whom those footfalls belong) runs for the stables. Destrian, shaking his head in consternation, steps out into the gardens — already looking over in the direction of Tylon and Thomas. Hooked upon his left forearm, he carries a bucket that (upon closer inspection) would appear to contain several leather items — assorted horse-tack — and cleaning equipment.

"By Bornas' hot breath… why are some so blind they cannot smell. Ah, the noise…" and he massages his right temple with his only hand, his brow heavily creased with a frown that ages him by several years.

"Much like a healer can only practice so mcuh without true patients," Tylon gives a small nod. Handling the dirk in a far less practiced fashion than the Chosen she has to face off with, even if it is only practice. A slight smirk comes at the mocking question,"Yes, Thomas, I do remember how to hold it. I believe you said firm yet gentle, as one would a lover's hand. " The priestess giving a light smile,"Perhaps I should see that I have a more permanate set then. After all, one must practice the kills they learn least they become lost?"

Tylon stepping to take up the position that Thomas had shown her in the first lessons, the movement allowing her to catch sight of Destrian in that distance, a slight nod perhaps his way but those green eyes do not stray from Thomas but a moment as they move to begin this days lesson.

<COMBAT> Tylon attacks Thomas with Dirk but Thomas DODGES!
<COMBAT> Thomas attacks Tylon with Dirk - Light wound to Left Arm (Reduced by Armor).

Thomas watches how Tylon holds the dirk, all the while listening to her words "Indeed, you can go over the fundimentals but unless you actually do it," he smiles. He nods "Yes, just like your loveer's hand." As Tylon gets ready he does as well. And when her attack comes he easily sidesteps it and the flat of his dirk slaps on her arm. "You took your eyes off me, I saw what you were going to do even as you started," he tells her.

Destrian finds himself a stone bench not far from the two sparring partners, and not so close that he could end up getting in their way. The Chosen is garbed simply — in tunic and tabard — and reaches inside the bucket to pull out a leather bridle, a cloth and some saddle-soap.

He smiles wryly in Tylon's direction, then shifts his attention toward Thomas. The smile broadens just a little, and slowly fades. Destrian sits with his head bowed just a little, listening to the sparring match rather than watching it. With the confidence of one who has had to do this for some time, the one-handed Chosen hooks the bridle on his left forearm — as he had the bucket just minutes before — and calmly proceeds to clean it.

He does not speak for the time being.

"I suppose it does help, that I have gotten in some practice at hold my lover's hand then to be able to now hold the dirk more properly," comes the light comment from Tylon. No surprise comes to her expression as Thomas easily sidesteps her attach, he was far more practiced at this all then she. A slight breathe pulled when the string comes in his blade finding contact upon her arm. "Yes, I recall…even a second can count, as so reminded." Stepping again to set for the next counter, keeping her eyes upon him this time.

<COMBAT> Tylon attacks Thomas with Dirk and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Thomas attacks Tylon with Dirk - ARMOR on Chest stops the attack!

Laughing, "yes, I suppose it does help. Or maybe we should practice that some more?" It is then that Thomas spots the fellow Chosen "Brother Destrain. How are you this fine day?" His gaze flits between the Mother Superior and the Chosen, while he waits for her next attack. "And remember, keep your eyes, here," he points to his chest, "But still allow them to see what is going around you as well." Then with a nod "Go ahead, I will give you the go again."
And when the attack comes, it is oh so close, even the swish of her dirk ruffles the surcoat. But quickly he turns the attack on him to an attack on her. Once more the flat of his blade smacks the leather with a pop. "If you miss, think of where you want to be so that you can be on guard once again." comes Thomas's instruction.

Destrian glances up from his work on the bridle and peers at Thomas, rather than smiling at him — or Tylon, for that matter. He holds up the bridle hanging from his arm, and explains: "It smells wrong." This apparently serves for his reply to his fellow Chosen as he lays the bridle once again upon his lap.

"I have to make it right."

The one-handed Chosen's forehead creases again into a frown, but of curiosity — not reproach. He focuses it firstly upon Thomas, and then upon Tylon. He opens his mouth in a silent, 'ahh' and gives a shallow nod. "Thomas," he murmurs. "You make her burn," he says as if he were talking about the weather, and then he resumes cleaning the bridle again.

"That is not your pendant," he adds as an afterthought.

"I would certainly not be adverse to practicing that some more," notes Tylon. Inquiring in turn,"Have you and Brother Destrian gotten chance to speak much since his return?" Giving her arm a slight bend and move after the hit it took before she does ready for the next round. Her eyes resting back to his chest. Tylon drawing a small breathe,"Look there and yet everywhere, yes?"

Any actual thought of being pleased about almost getting a hit in on Thomas is short lived with the flat of his blade is smacking into the leather over her chest. Leather that thankfully take the brunt of any sting, even if she draws a sharp breath all the same. Before commenting,"I see you had your eyes quite trained upon your target." Turning to return to position again, sneaking in a slight press against her chest when her back is turned to him, and inquiring,"Which is usually better, to continue through and make them move more, or to retreat to guard? Or will it simply depend upon the situation, I thing that I can only learn with time and practice?" Green eyes flickering in Destrian's direction to catch some of his words, which manage to cause some color to rise to her cheeks. Did she just get compared to the mare?

<COMBAT> Tylon attacks Thomas with Dirk and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Thomas attacks Tylon with Dirk - Light wound to Right Leg (Reduced by Armor).

"As you hold that dirk, I think we need more practice," says Thomas followed with a wink. He looks to Destrin and nods "Better to burn here then bleed in the field, no?" Then he blinks "No, it's not, well it is. Tylon gave it to me." Comes his explanation. When she mentions her chest he grins and shrugs "Sorry, can't help myself. Such a lovely…." Then he just shrugs his shoulders. coughs a little bit. Her attack is noted "Very good, don't extend your reach, it makes for a weaker attack. Move on your feet. It's a dance, that's all. Just a bit more serious one."
When her attack comes again, it is oh so close, but he has moved yet again and as he dances past he brings the blade, flatly, to the back side of her upper right leg "I don't take my eyes off the target, Tylon," again comes another wink. And he doesn't stand still, still moving as a predictor stalking his prey.

Destrian's face relaxes visibly as he works upon the bridle. Every motion of the oiled rag in his grasp is deliberate, methodical and thorough; his chest rises and expands with each breath, naturally in synch with his work. At Thomas' comment, he frowns and glances up at the man, confused.

Then he looks pointedly at Tylon's blushing face, and even motions toward her with the rag he holds. "See? She burns."

He suddenly grins.

"She bruises, too."

There is a touch more color that rises as Tylon murmurs softly,"Thomas, that is not…what he means. He means I burn /for/ you, not because of the lesson." Her blush so well pointed out by Destrian in the process as well. "I fear, I do not seem to move quite so quickly as you, but then you know I do not dance all that well. Obviously, I need more practice."

"Yes, Des, I do bruise….and I have given it to him," a slight softness touching her tones when she notes that. Though Tylon does keep her gaze upon Thomas, her attack finding only air once more as he easily skirts her blade. Jumping just a touch when his makes contact to the backside of her leg, spinning a little in order ot keep sight of him and counter her stalking movements. "I think my target simply has more practice at evading than yours does, Thomas."

<COMBAT> Tylon attacks Thomas with Dirk but Thomas DODGES!
<COMBAT> Thomas attacks Tylon with Dirk - Light wound to Left Arm (Reduced by Armor).

…….. her, Brother." Then another laughs comes "And she does, but maybe she will allow me to help with those bruises?" He tilts his head "It's not about moving so quickly, it's about anticipation. Where do I think you are going to strike, then move from it. It is those that hide their attacks very well that are the most troublesome. But yes, practice makes perfect." It is then that he turns the dirk blade down and moves it to his left hand. A bow to Tylon "Perhaps this would be a good place to stop, before you get to bruised."

Destrian nods to Tylon, his grin slowly fading as he glances between her and Thomas. He inhales a lungful of air, sniffing through his nostrils, and mouth-shrugging with his lips. As he rests the bridle upon his lap he remarks mildly to Tylon:

"You should be quicker." Then he tilts his head just a fraction to the side and gives a speculative look toward both of them, whilst itching the side of his jaw with his right hand. "When you make a child together," he tells Tylon in a tone of voice he might use to say 'when the sun rises tomorrow', "I will pray he sings like you, but dances like him. He will sing longer, then. Aye."

A shake of her head comes as Thomas laughs once just what 'burns' means is explained for him. "I might allow you to help, I may have to think upon it though," managing to lightly tease on the matter. Tylon gives a slight nod,"I get anticipation, Thomas. But you have more experience in this, to see the tiny twitch of a muscle and know what it means. I have to learn and think about what it might mean yet, I do know that." And she is taking her lumps rather well all considering, not even a whine! Lowering her blade after he does his, and the last hit is taken. Answering with a slight bow in turn,"A good idea, before I end up needing to much tending to."

Glancing towards Destrian as he comments about how she should be quicker,"I have never had to work at it before, Des, you know that. And…" her green eyes widen and then blink at his next words. And a fine shade of pink is rising once more to her cheeks at his words. "that….is a fine thing to pray for, Des. But we have not even…talked about children yet." A hand faintly brushing back through her hair as her lip suddenly gets chewed at again before glancing over towards Thomas.

"You won't learn by facing some one less trained, my love. Only against those better than you will you truly learn." Then Thomas hears Destrian and turns, laughing "Children…well," he grins at Tylon "We haven't discussed that have we?" He teases a bit "Maybe we should talk about it, and maybe practice it, just so that we get it right?"

Destrian frowns.

Tucking in his chin a bit, he focuses his eyes upon an empty space just in front of him, and unconsciously raises his arms as if he were about to mesh his fingers together.
If he had two hands, that is.

Dissatisfied with his thought processes, he glances back upward again — firstly at Tylon, and then at Thomas. "How…" he flounders with growing perplexity that turns faint creases in his forehead into veritable canyons of confusion. "How do you… 'practice' child-making…?"

No longer glancing, he gives Tylon his full attention — one old friend to another. "This, to me, is a strange sound. And… 'teaching'. 'Teaching' how to make a child — this is also a strange sound. Horses do not need to taught."
The puzzled, one-handed Chosen nods his head emphatically toward Tylon and Thomas.
"Watch the horses."

"Yes, however, most Acolytes upon the path to becoming Chosen are more train than I, even if they do not have much to teach me as you." A smile comes as she adds,"Though I do not think, love, that you would much care to give them such an up close opportunity to admire me in these leathers." Having been watching for Thoas' reaction on the matter as that lip was chewed, and when it comes the lip does get released.

But Destrian does draw her attention as he becomes confused on the particular topic. "Oh, it is not teaching and practice in quite the same fashion, Des, as this lesson here. But similar in other ways, after all, even with the horses, once does not ensure the making of a child. It requires…practice sometimes, or ah…" a bit of a amused sparkle actually comes to her eyes as she looks to Thomas,"there are certain practices can be done upon the alters of Ravas and Stilltha to seek greater blessing from them when seeking to have a child."

Looking back to Destrian,"It is a fine idea though, Des, the horses do have something to perhaps teach in their own way. Though I think for now, I have some bruises that need tending to." Glancing towards Thomas,"And perhaps it is I who need to give you some lessons later."

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