Warwic

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"She must like me!" Shawdup thought, as Shurka dragged him into the building. Judging by the smells, they must have drink here. That was good.

She wanted him to sing some more. What was his best song? He wanted to really impress her. Oh yeah, he started playing.

"I took my club, I took my spear, we were going to war,
We beat those goblins, we drank their blood, we cut off their heads,
Then I met you, you smacked my face, I thought I was in Hades,
Drag me back home to the cave, then you told me your name,
yeah you told me your name.

Those nasty elves, they attack us, in the middle of the night,
Arrows they fly, many orc die, you took sixteen arrows,
you took sixteen arrows.

My head get bashed, cave it get trashed, we had to run,
Live in the swamp, eat little frogs, can't remember your name,
What was your name? What was your name?"

It was always a favorite amongst the ladies. Many men orc got a little sentimental at it too, it expressed the hard life of an orc so simply yet so beautifully.

Shawdup took a gulp of the drink Shurka had brought him. It lacked the hard kick of most orc brew, but was good anyway. "Thanks, Shurka. This is good. You like my song?"

 

Beating her club hard against the floor, she hooted happily at the tale of orcish life. This halforc knew how to sing it! She swiped a sentimental tear from her cheek and quaffed down her ale. "Good, good," she told her companion. "You brings back many memories of my tribe."

Glancing around, she finally noticed the place had filled with fresh faces, looking out of place.

 

Kael quietly muttered "Theres a reason why elves and dwarves attac orcs."

Sitting down quietly with Fienna, Dala and Kulgothrax, he continued to scan the room. It was all so strange.

 

Cayne sat down by himself, and being used to it, smiled to himself and ordered an ale. He glanced at the other adventurers and decided to keep quiet.

 

It felt like all eyes were on her, especially the ones boring into her back like a lethal battleaxe. She tossed a look over a shoulder and spied the dwarf giving her the hairy eyeball.

Shurka downed the rest of her drink and whispered in a loud voice as only orcs can do, "Shawdup, me needs ta find da fighter hall. Me sees you later mebbe." She jolted upright, knocking over her chain and tried to ignore what sounded to her ears too much like muffled laughter.

As soon as she escaped the tavern, she bolted to her left and started asking passersby where the fighter's training hall was. A vegetable marketeer pointed out directions with a bunch of dirty carrots. "Ya dem dere goes dat ways, ya sees," the man spoke accented Common. "To da tree crossroads wit dat dere pillar-thing and takes yer second right dere den."

Shurka absorbed the directions and followed them, discovering it not to be as confusing as it sounded. Head tipped down, but eyes watching sharply, she came upon a maintained, brick building with a large, open pen containing tackling dummies and archery targets. Gazing in wide-eyed wonder, she gawked at the well-kempt grounds and thought this might not be the place for her.

A burly man threw open the large wooden doors at the side of the building and walked confidently out into the dirt and grass arena. He spotted the shy halforc immediately and called gruffly, "You look the type to handle what I teach. C'mon inside and close the gate behind you." He directed her attention to the fence's gate and waved with his hand.

Shurka stepped forward and pulled up the locking pin. She pushed the gate open, walked through and closed it shut, making sure that the pin locked properly. The male human waited with arms crossed. "Shurka," she muttered.

"Good morrow, Shurka," he answered and offered a hand. "I'm Korden, the fighting teacher here at Warwic. Why don't you give me your best attack and we'll see how you go on from there."

"You wants me ta attack yous?" she asked dumbfounded.

Korden laughed. "It's the only way to find out what you know and what I think you need to learn. Don't be afraid to put everything you have in the fight, Shurka. I might not have the strengths of an orc, but you might be surprised." He reached out and picked up the staff leaning negligently against the wall, readying himself against her assault.

She gripped her club and braced her shield. With a cry, she swung hard, only to find her club on the ground. Korden crouched and swiped at her feet to trip her up. She hit the dirt with a thud, but rolled awkwardly and scrambled for her weapon. The staff end smacked into her forearm with enough force to numb her fingers and make retrieving her club useless. She growled low in her throat and lashed out with a kick. He dodged, tumbling closer to her fallen club and whisking it far from her grasping hands.

A red haze came over her, the boiling anger of the entire day seeped into her blood. The whispered remarks when she travelled in human lands, the nasty comments of the shin-kicker and now the loss of her favorite weapon took their toll. With a bellowing cry, she leapt at the trainer and thumped on him with bare fist and shield.

 

"Okay, maybe see you later," Shawdup said as Shurka left the building.

He'd finished the drink, and didn't have any money to buy any more, but he did have his lute. He started picking out melodies at random, looking around the room. He saw the dwarf, and an elf or two, but no other orcs or half-orcs, maybe it was time to try a different tune. His mother hadn't taught him too many dwarf chants, but one did leap to his mind.

He started chunking out a bassy rhythm on the lute, after several bars, he sang:

"We dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig,
In a mine, the whole day through,
We dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig,
In a mine, that's what we do.

Well it don't take much with a shovel or a pick,
to find a nugget of gold real quick,
When you dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig,
In a mine, a-dig-a-dig-dig."

He'd glanced over at the dwarf a few times, and noticed that he was nodding his head to the rhythm despite himself, or was it a she?

At any rate, the dwarf was coming over to him, which was good, 'cause that was all of the verses that Shawdup could remember, though he was sure there were many more. He kept playing the chunky rhythm, adding some odd melodies and harmonics on the high strings that seemed to somehow fit, evoking the echoing sounds of metal breaking rock deep underground.

 

"Ach! Ye're slaughterin' it. Just play and let me sing, ye hoarse bugger."

Dala started belting out the words to the next verses of the mining chant, and after three more, Shawdup stopped playing. At least, until Dala whacked him on the knee to get him to keep going. Five verses later, she was bellowing at the top of her lungs to be heard over the booing crowd, and by the time she got to the end of the fifteenth verse they were close to getting thrown out of the tavern.

Dala chortled at the cheers that resulted when she finally stopped. "Ah, that reminds me of me teen years, bringin' water to the miners. I'd sing that song over and over for hours at home, and it drove me parents batty. They signed me up for the choir just to get me out of earshot." She laughed again. "How did ye learn the melody? I'd not think a dwarf would teach it to ye."

 

Fienna leaned in Kael's direction and shouted in his ear to be heard over the raucous bellowing of Dala
"I'm going to find the Mage tower, I'll be back as soon as I can"
and without a backward glance she left the inn, standing in the street she looked to upwards and scanned round and then she saw it the Mage tower.

Keeping one eye on the tower she made her way through the streets till she came to the foot of the tower, she opened the door and went in. Opposite the entrance a set of stairs curled their way up further into the tower, then she noticed that below these stairs another set curled their way down. The walls were lined with shelves filled with various arcane materials and scrolls. To her left behind a desk sat the oldest Elf Fienna had ever seen.

Turning to her Fienna quietly siad
"Hello my name is Fienna, I wonder if you can help me I'm looking for some scrolls and a scrollcase if you have one"

The Elf looked up at Fienna and then reached into a drawer at her side and pulled out a leather scroll case
"And what spells would you be looking for, dearie" the Elf asked her gently.

"Well, if you have one a Find Familiar, or Haste if I can afford either of them" Fienns said softly.
The Elf looked at her then with a hard calculating look and then she saw the sword at Fienna's left side and a curious, wistful look spread acroos the old elf's face
"That sword you carry does it have a name ?"
"Yes but..."
"And what relation are you to Sylva FreidrichsDottir ?"
"She's my great-aunt " Fiennna blurted out and then blushed at how easily she had given that away.
"Be at ease child" the elf said "My name is Leysella Dawnflower, did she mention me ?"
"Yes she did , your father made the sword for her"
"Aye he did, is the sword bound to you ? And do you know its powers ?" Leysella asked.
"Yes, before I left; she bound the sword to me and told me the words"

"Good, good. To business then young Fienna for the case and a scroll of Haste I ask 84 gold. And for the love I bore your aunt and for her companionship on our adventures I gift you these, Find Familiar and Fireball You may need them"
"But ... " "No buts child 84 gold is all I need"

Fienna counted out the coins and then picked up the case and put the scrolls of Haste and Fireball away and clipped the case onto her belt. She looked up at Leysella and said
"I will cast this here that you may see my familiar". Leysella nodded at this and so she started to read the scroll, she felt the power grow and the release; there was a clap of thunder and a breif flash.

"Oh child she is beautiful"
"Yes she is, thank you" and she hugged the elf.
"Time to go child but if you have need I shall be here, Good Luck" And Fienna found herself outside, her new friend sitting on her shoulder singing brightly in her mind as she made her way back to the inn, and the table where she was before.

 

Shawdup picked a callous off of a finger and licked some of the blood. His arm hurt like he'd been at soldier practice with his older brothers, none of whom liked him at all. He was a good player, but FIFTEEN verses of that song, with bar chords no less, had taken it out of him.

"Well, my mother taught it to me, I think I was about ten or so. A small group of dwarves came into our cave, thinking that there was a vein of silver running through it, so the rumor went. Of course, I'd heard of dwarves in all the night stories, but I'd never seen them before. After dinner, I asked mother why dwarves were so chewy and gristly, with no nice marbling of fat like the other little people we sometimes found, who are also very tender and tasty, I think they're called halflings, and she told me that dwarves just work all the time, and are so dour that the taste comes through in their meat. I wanted to know more about them, not just their taste and that they're furious little fighters with axes and hammers, so mother taught me the two or three dwarf songs she knew. She always said it was a good thing to learn as many songs from as many different people, so that you could play something from their culture when you met them. That way they'd probably not want to kill and eat you. I could only remember those two verses, and I know my mother didn't sing all of those fifteen. I'll have to write those new verses down in my head before I forget them. Thanks, Mister Dwarf. You've got a really nice voice, too."

Shawdup stopped talking, and wondered why the dwarf's expression had suddenly turned very sour, almost aggressive. What had he said?

 

Dala started smacking Shawdup over the head repeatedly. "Ye better forget those verses, ye cannibal! I oughta take out me hammer and smite ye right here! ... Let go of me, ye bloody pansy elf!" This last at Kael, who had lifted Dala off of her feet in order to get her away from the cringing half-orc.

 

A grizzled man, over the hill, but not yet old, got up from the bar and mozied over to where the young elf was trying to restrain the infuriated dwarf from killing the halforc who was trying to protect his mother's lute from taking any damage. The man placed a hand on the dwarf's head and murmured, "Calm yourself, young mistress dwarf, and remember, when you were ten years old, you too ate what your mother put before you with no questions, and did not question the correctness of your people's ways. Be not so harsh on this young troubador, he has much to learn. Maybe you'll eventually be able to tolerate him. Now, go have a beer." He took his hand off the dwarf's head, and she got up and went straight for the bar, where she did have a beer. The elf looked quizzically at the man, who sent him off with a nod of his head, and Shawdup stared up in amazement as the man helped him up off the floor and into a chair.

"Let me see your lute," the man said. Shawdup handed it over. "That wasn't very wise, giving up your most powerful weapon to a total stranger, but then, wisdom doesn't seem to be your strong suit."

"Who are you?" Shawdup asked.

"Greggor Braun, minstrel friend of Warwic, or the local drunk, depending on who you ask. Warwic asked me if I wanted to take on another apprentice or two. I said no, I'd had enough of that, and just wanted to play music and drink. You didn't get a letter actually sent to you, did you?" He asked Shawdup.

"No, I found it in the dirt of the road," Shawdup admitted.

"Okay, good, at least Warwic kept her word. I guess this is the Fates way of telling me that you and I were meant for each other." He started fiddling with the tuning pegs of Shawdup's lute. "Didn't your mother teach you how to tune this thing?"

"Yeah, she did, but she always did it herself best. I tried to the other day, but it didn't seem to work so well." Shawdup said.

"Well, I can hear that, that'll be one of our first lessons. Second, it's painfully clear that you've got the magic, you just don't know what to do with it. I suppose you don't even know any cantrips, do you?" Greggor asked.

"What are you talking about?" Shawdup couldn't understand what this man was trying to tell him.

"You're a bard, born to it. No way else to play with the feeling you've got. No way would a dwarf had come over and sang fifteen verses of that awful mining song with a halforc had not your magic been pulling her. Yes, her, I know, it's hard to tell. And then when the crowd was gonna attack you both and stuff you in a pickle barrel, which is surely what they would have done had it been just two drunken dwarves singing on a table, your magic just kept them jeering at you, which isn't so bad."

He'd tuned up the lute and played some amazing sounding riffs and chords on it. "Wow, your mama had a nice axe! Let's see what you can do with it," he handed the lute back to Shawdup, who started to play some of the finer tunes his mother had taught him.

After a few songs, Greggor said, "Nice, very nice. Now, probably the first cantrip you'll need to learn is cure minor wounds. It just might keep you or your friends, if you have any, alive long enough for someone with real healing skill to save the poor bloke. You can use your lute, any other instrument, or even just your voice or humming. It goes like this..."

A half hour later, Shawdup had it down. "Now for the test," Greggor broke a glass and stabbed the shards into Shawdup's arm.

"Ow!" Shadup yipped, "What'd you do that for?"

"Like I said, it's the test. What are you gonna do, suck on it?" Greggor responded.

"Oh, I get it." Shawdup hummed the melody, he couldn't very well play his lute with blood streaming down his arm. He watched in amazement as the wound and pain went away, as if by magic.

With a start, Shawdup realized that it was magic, and that he had done it.

"Wow, thanks Greggor."

"Don't mention it. I've gotta go sleep off this hangover. I'll see you here tomorrow. Keep practicing that tune, and be ready to learn another one." Greggor said over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

Shawdup picked up his lute and began to play.

 

Kael shrugged and quietly left the tavern. He wanted to see more of the town. He was walking through the market being exposed to the sights and sounds of a village. People shouting, running and trying to haggle with shop owners.

Slowly he found his way to the school. He was really sure of what he wanted to learn first, he had some theiving skills, he could pick pockets, locks and find and spring traps. He was alright with his short swords, but he wasn't in the mood to work on something like that. He wanted to learn about Warwic and some of his adventures. He decided he'd check the library, but he didn't know the way.

 

Desire. It consumed his entire being, controlled him, made him want... Want more. Yet he didn't know what he wanted, and therefore the first 19 years of Rafael's life went without purpose, without aim. Sure, he paid his way through that prestigious fencing school in Waterdeep, paying for it by stealing from the very snobby nobles he attended with. For a while, he enjoyed the fencing school, focusing everything he had into fighting, and he was content for a while. Yes, he had to steal to get through it but the nobles deserved it--they treated Rafael so badly and with so much contempt it made Rafael focus more when fighting them, and eventually gaining the top honors in his class.

After that, there was nothing. Sure, he was a great fencer, his brutal and precise fighting style made sure he could defend himself extremely well, and he could sustain himself by burglarizing evil nobles, but life was just so--so--empty. Thus, the local thieves guild had grabbed him, noting his fighting prowess and also noting carefully that he was the freelance thief who was burglarizing their territory--but with such skill and finesse they could forgive him if he joined. Rafael was made a bodyguard and under the tutelege of the enigmatic Master Shadow Warrior Kogi-Chaka, but guild politics and obligation made Rafael want to leave, want freedom.

That freedom now stood in his hand. As Rafael walked into Warswic, with only his trusty rapier, dagger, studded leather on his body and the shaggy letter in his hand, he noted the facility's quaint charm, its buildings, the other eager faces waiting to learn the way of the glorious Adventurer.

Perhaps being an adventurer would satisfy that desire for more.

With that, Rafael headed to the alehouse and sat alone in a corner, waiting to see what would happen next...

[ November 18, 2005, 18:50: Message edited by: JiggaJay ]

 

When the haze of anger left her, she was flat on her back with Korden looming over her. He'd stripped her of her shield and gave her quite the knock-about. She moaned as the newly realized pains crept through her body. Everything was battered and bruised, including the ripe goose egg on her head.

Korden gave her room to sit, even offering a hand up. She rolled onto her stomach and slowly pushed herself upright. Staggering to her feet, she cupped a hand over the knot on her skull and faced the man who'd pummeled her so soundly.

He looked slightly better with a cut forehead, blackened eye and split lip. Nothing compared to her aches. "You done good, Shurka," he stated with praise and patted her shoulder. "You were fast with your blows and knew where to hit to hurt. It's been too long since a student beat me up like you did."

"Dat's good?" she asked dumbfounded.

He chuckled and gathered up her club and shield. Passing them over, he said, "Aye, lass, you done good as I told you before. And I'm sure you've got pains in places you didn't know could hurt, right? Well, let me take you inside and introduce you to Lavertym Gaeree." He lead her hobbling into the building, taking care to show her a place to keep her belongings.

The room she was shown was small and sparse with a thick pallet on the floor, a wooden cupboard for clothes, a tiny table with a candle on it and stool tucked under the lip. "It's not much, but it's yours to use while you stay in Warwic. There's more to this place, though I think you'd rather get some linament on those muscles and rest," Korden said.

"Uh-huh," Shurka grunted and limped after her teacher when he left the room. He guided her to another room, this one fairly large with female halfelf straightening bottles on some shelves.

The woman turned as they entered. She came over and introduced herself as Lavertym Gaeree. "I teach, too," she told Shurka. "Some of the students feel better learning from a person of their own gender. I can see you aren't one of them, by the looks of Korden. Have a seat and I'll get you some linament to ease your pain." Lavertym motioned to a stool. Shurka sat quickly, noting that Korden whispered in the woman's ear before he took off.

 

Shawdup woke up under the table, his lute cradled in his arms. A rat was debating whether or not to nibble on his boot, and a quick kick made it decide to run away.

What had happened? Oh yeah, last night, after Greggor left, Shawdup had started playing all the drinking and party songs he knew. People started buying him drinks, even a pot of stew, and they'd sang into the night.

He crawled out from under the table. The barkeep, who was wiping down some tables, looked at him and muttered, "Looks like the Old Drunk taught you your first lesson well, how to drink yourself under the table. Try to make it up to the common room next time, will you? And tonight, more drinking songs, less dancing on the tables, if the increased sales in beer are offset by broken mugs and furniture, you're a liability instead of an asset, got it?"

"Did you just call me an ass?" Shawdup asked the man.

"No, forget it. Here, have some gruel," the man said, plopping down a bowl of steaming slop.

"Thanks," Shawdup answered, sitting down to eat. As he was licking the bowl clean, Greggor sauntered in and ordered sausages, eggs, and coffee. Sitting down next to Shawdup, he asked, "So, how much did you earn last night?"

"Uh, I got a lot of free beer, and a stew, and breakfast this morning." Shawdup replied.

Greggor looked up angrily at the barkeep. "You cheap ass Jorl! Didn't you give the kid any of the take? Of course not, well, tonight, give him a double share, and from then on treat him right. He's got to earn himself a pocketful of silver to equip himself for the first adventure." Turning back to Shawdup, he said, "So, are you ready for your next lesson? Good, we're going to work on inspiring courage and battle lust in your comrades. I spoke to Korden on my way home last night, he's got some exercises planned for your comrade, Shurki, or was it Shurka, this morning. It's the perfect opportunity for you to practice the songs. Let's get to work."

After breakfast he taught Shawdup the basic melodies, and how to improvise lyrics to the situation at hand to really work up the rage of the fighters. With an hour of practice, Greggor said he was ready to give it a test run.

They went out of the tavern and down to the fighter's hall. Korden was just getting done leading Shurka and two other recruits through some stretching exercises.

"Good morning," Shawdup said to Shurka. She nodded a response, she had some type of padding in her mouth at the moment.

"He all set to go?" Korden asked Greggor, who nodded his answer. "Okay, Shurka, you and these two others are going to attack me. Listen to the music that you hear, and let it help you. Move with it, don't fight against it, understand?"

They all nodded. "Good, we'll start at the count of ten. One, two," here, Korden kicked one student in the groin, sending him to the ground, the other got a fist in his nose, and Shurka was swept to the ground with another leg sweep.

Greggor nudged Shawdup, "Better start playing before he comes at you."

Shawdup played and sang,

"Get up, fight back, stand up, attack!
Kill that, old man, do it, you can!
He's a, cheater, smash that, 'skeeter!
Watch out, he'll smack, your snout, attack!"

By now, all the three students were on their feet again, and started moving to the rhythmn Shawdup was beating out of his lute, moving to the attack.

 

Shurka rolled to her feet, a thumping beat standing her hairs on end. Korden was heading for Shawdup, who was being totally silly and strumming his instrument. She saw the other two students circling around their teacher, so she approached from the rear.

The three pounced as one entity. The group hit Korden as hard as possible, tackling him to the ground. He kicked off one and grabbed the other by the back of his shirt. Shurka wrapped an arm around Korden's neck and tried to beat his arm with her club. The other student clung gamely and saw the chance to return the favor by jabbing an elbow in the crusty fighter's groin.

Korden groaned and released his grip. This was the moment for the students. With the strumming tune dancing in their movements, they ganged up on their teacher with renewed vigor. A moment or two later, the training was halted by Lavertym. The halfelf waded into the knot of tangled bodies and sorted thing out, shouting, "You've done what you needed. Break it up! Session is over!"

Shurka backed away as did the other two and watched as Korden was helped to his feet by Lavertym. He looked pretty beaten, but once on his feet again, he shrugged off help and stood by himself.

"Now that's what I mean," he told them, clenching a victorious fist. "Learning to work with the unknown is just as valuable as working with things you've known for years. A common enemy can bring strangers together." He winked his good eye at Shawdup. "Or if you have a bard, like now. You three have done well this morning. I'm going to need a bit of healing, so you all have a couple hours of free time. Be back before sunset, then." He shooed them away like a mother hen at her chicks.

Shurka spit out her mouth protection for which she was grateful or she'd lost more teeth this morning. She walked over to Shawdup and waited.

 

Shawdup nodded again to Shurka, "Good fight!"

Lavertym came up to the both of them. "Not a bad tune either. As Korden said, it can really help a fight. But there will be times when you will need to put down your lute and defend yourself with steel. I see you have a sword and spear. Do you know how to use them?"

"A little. I survived the soldier ceremony. Killed a goblin with my spear," Shawdup answered.

"Okay, let's start with your sword then," Lavertym said, drawing her practice blade. "Shurka and you two, watch us both. Me to see what tricks you can pick up, Shawdup to see what pointers you would give him if you were his trainer."

Shawdup put his lute down and drew his short sword, taking the beginning stance. Lavertym came at him slowly at first, then with increasing speed.

"Ow! Ugh! Goblin-Head!" Shawdup cursed with each blow. At least there was only one attacker, instead of a dozen, as there usually were when his brothers played war with him.

Lavertym stepped back. "Well, you're not afraid to take a hit, that's for sure. Did the other orcs beat you up a lot?"

"Three or four times a day," Shawdup replied.

"It's amazing you lived through it all. Real enemies won't be so forgiving, their blows will be lethal. You've got to relearn some fear of getting hit, instead of just taking the pain, or you're going to die quick. I think it'd be best if you stayed at reach distance from close quarter combat. Let's see how you do with your spear, just try to keep me at bay."

Here, Shawdup did much better. Not necessarily hitting Lavertym with his spear, but forcing her to keep her distance.

"Not bad there. That gives me an idea." Lavertym went to a wall where many training weapons were hanging and took down a long spear. "Here, this is used pretty much like your normal spear there, but lets you stay farther away from the action. The movements and thrusts are basically the same, you just have to time it different because of the distance. Give it a try on these practice dummies here."

Shawdup took the long spear and poked at the practice dummies for awhile. It was a little heavier than his spear, but not too hard to adjust to. "Good, looks like you've got it. Now, to put one and one together. Shurka, come over here," Lavertym directed. "You two others, stick around and watch. Now, Shawdup, you stand two paces behind Shurka, as Shurka spars with the practice dummy. When I yell 'High', Shurka you do a duck, and Shawdup, thrust your long spear over Shurka into the dummy. When I yell, 'Right', Shurka dodge to your left, that's your shield side, and Shawdup, you thrust on her right, or club side. When I yell, 'Left', it's the other way around. Got it?"

Shawdup and Shurka looked slightly confused. "Don't worry, it's just with practice weapons. Shurka, if Shawdup sticks it to you in the backside by mistake, rest assured that you'll be able to return the favor to him sometime later. Now, spar!"

They worked on the basic high, right, and left, "blind-surprise attacks", as Lavertym called them, for about an hour. Shawdup didn't hit Shurka too many times in the back, but her menacing glances and growls at him when he did made his toes curl.

"Okay, now let's go on to step two. You two others, you can get off your buts now. The two of you are going to attack Shurka. Try to flank her and get around to her side or back. Shawdup, when they do that, be ready to stick it to them, or at least force them back to Shurka's front. Shurka, try to lure them into a good position, and when you're ready, call out to Shawdup which attack you want, high, right, or left. When his spear comes at 'em. Give it to 'em with your club from a different level. It's really hard to avoid two attacks at once. All set?"

This time Shurka and Shawdup seemed more confident of what they were supposed to do.

"Fight!" Lavertym called.

It wasn't perfect, and the two did manage to get around Shurka once and send both her and Shawdup smarting to the ground, but more often than not they were held at bay or pummeled by Shurka's club. A few times the blind surprise attack worked perfectly.

When everyone was really sweaty and bloody, Lavertym called, "Hold! That was a good lesson. Of course you'll need to work it to death in practice, but you've got the basics. Shawdup, be ready to drop your long spear and draw a dagger or short sword if any one gets close to you, or run, if you think you're faster than they are. Shurka and Shawdup, if you think you can remember and not get confused, create some code words for right, left, and high, maybe two to four each, that you randomly change in a fight, so your more intelligent opponents don't catch on to what you're doing. You two, don't tell the other students about this and spoil the surprise. Let them earn their own bruises like you did. Now, the lot of you, go jump in the tank to get rid of that sweat and blood, then go have lunch and some beer. Get out of here now."

The two others were gone. Shawdup grinned at Shurka. "That was fun!"

[ November 24, 2005, 18:52: Message edited by: Scot ]

 

Grinning as only an orc can do, Shurka agreed with Shawdup. "Yah, dat was some good learning we done." The pair walked to the training hall and Shurka separated from her friend when they found a place to clean up. She dunked her head in the bucket of water, whipping her lanky hair around like a dirty brush. The rest of the water thatt hadn't splashed onto the floor got sluiced over her body. With some scrubbing, she managed to clear off most of the grime from her skin. Her clothing was another matter.

Shawdup could be heard throughout the building as he sang loud and proud while cleaned up. Shurka smiled, standing soaking wet in the hall outside her room and listened to what her friend was singing. When shivers overcame her, she moved quickly inside. There she stripped down, left her filthy tunic and pants in a pile and changed into her other set of durable shirt and trousers. She grabbed a thin strip of leather before leaving her room and made her way to Shawdup, using his punctuating vocals to zero in on him.

She scrunched down on her heels and swiftly braided her damp hair into a think tail trailing down her neck. She tied it off with the leather piece, happily providing a humming accompanyment to the bard's song. She had a bit of money still and decided to ask Shawdup to eat with her in the tavern from last night.

 

"Yeah, that sounds good! Lets do it," Shawdup and Shurka went off to the tavern together. When they went in, Shawdup looked around and saw the dwarf who had gotten angry at him eating at a table. At first, he was a little scared, that dwarf had really hit hard, but then he remembered that Shurka was with him, and he made a show of licking his lips as he passed the dwarf and asking Shurka, "Mmmn, I wonder what they have for food today, I hope its not tough and dour tasting like some types of meat. "

He didn't turn around to see what type of reaction, if any, that got out of the dwarf.

 

Dala perked up at Shawdup's comment, and then got a mean grin on her face. After swallowing what she'd been chewing on, she made a show of licking her finger to test the air currents. Then she settled back down and started chewing on another bite of her venison.

Without warning, Dala suddenly turned in her seat at the bar and spat. The slobber-coated sliver of meat arced through the air and lodged in Shawdup's ear, causing a shivering spasm in the half-orc that frightened a nearby waitress into spilling her drinks on Shurka.

"'Ow's that for some dour meat, eh?" Dala laughed uproariously at the domino effect and slapped the back of the human sitting next to her. Unfortunately for both of them, he was too drunk and slammed face-first into the bar before slumping to the floor. Dala, of course, proceeded to laugh her a$$ off . . . of her chair, and toppled to the floor as well. Soon after, loud snoring shattered the resultant silence.