"I hope I don't have to raise it, but I will. How will practice help with my belt?" He said, staying very still while she readjusted it for a third time. Rook looked down, watching her hands work. He noticed that she still hadn't put her glove back on. "But I do need more practice with the sword. I hope you'll keep teaching me. I put in an hour with the short bow today. Will you show me how to take better care of them."

"We really are. And I only said it because you deserve to be happy." Rook agreed warmly, giving her a squeeze and pulling back to reach up and touch her hair briefly on a whim, tracing the edge from her forehead down. "What do you mean might? There should be no doubt I'd help you back up. Scraped knees and all."

She gave him a playful smack on the stomach for the 'practice with my belt' comment and shook her head. "That was not what I meant and you know it." Her eyes glow softly, "As I promised you, we will practice. We're to be a part of this exploration together so we'll have plenty of time to do so, might even learn something my self. Nothing good," she teased, only then realizing he still held her. His hands were rough, but it didn't seem to bother her. If anything it reminded her of a man she admired, even if he had led her astray in some ways.

He traced her hair and she closed her eyes, shifting closer against him, opening her eyes and staring at him with a perplexed expression, "Rook, you make me happy, don't you see that?" Suddenly, she felt very brave, and stupid, and foolish, but he did make her happy. Her nerves pulled her tight and somehow he made her calm, and reckless in a way she couldn't begin to describe. With his words echoing in her head, she lifted up on her toes and leaned forward "Without even trying, just by being you. Smelly feet and all." she grins and silences any response he might have as she closes the gap, letting her eyes close to kiss him.

"See? Stuff that isn't there." He grunts at the slap. "I was genuinely curious about how to practice belting. And beyond practice, I owe you stories. We'll have to have daily meetings. Stories and stretching, maybe? By the fire in the forest. I learn quickly, I might pass you before too long."

He tilted his head, eyebrows wrinkling together. "I assumed I just annoyed you the least out of everyone. The most bland and palatable, like a cracker. You'd start to open up and then a stick would break and fftt. Gone." Rook paused. "That was the sound you make when you disappear. Either, you know, physically or in here." He reached up and put a finger to her dark temple. It's lucky his hand is there, really. It gives him the opportunity to gingerly cup her face when she elevates her face to his, her glowing eyes closed and pouted mouth puckered.

His lips brush hers gently and then are strangely absent. A grin is on his face now, though his cheeks are flushed. He chuckles and tries to find the right words. "I'm not, uh...it's complicated. With the. Priest. There's..." Rook cleared his throat, but his eyes were bright. "There's more work to be done. Steps to take before, uh." He cleared his throat again, but hadn't moved anything else aside from his eyes.

The silence was deafening for the whole of two seconds before she draws back, she blinks her eyes first in surprise and next with an emotion unrecognizable. "Oh," she starts, "Oh, of course." she manages, as if what he said had made any sense to her at all. She almost too politely manages to smile as she untangles herself from his hold, placing her hands on his forearms as she worms her way free. The smile is almost too controlled, but it doesn't leave her face. Of course, on anyone else, this might make sense, but for Ari it seems oddly out of place.

She bends at the waist, kicking out her leg as she grabs for her glove and slaps the dirt from it with a hand. "I'm sorry, I should have known, it was just.. I mean, I thought. " she shakes her head, brushing at her cheeks frantically as if it would help to erase the sudden blush that burns there. "Never mind, we've already established my lack of skills when it comes to reading people. " she gives off a laugh, but that too sounds oddly forced and yet one gets the impression it is also strangely genuine given the awkwardness off the situation. "Of course, a priest's work is never done... I imagine. " she's rambling and she knows it, reaching for her boots in much the same fashion as she grabbed her glove, and shoving them under her arm as she pulls the glove back into place.

"Look, we'll just forget I did that and stick to swords and stories from now on. Mmm?" she was trying to hard again and she knew it, but she couldn't stop herself. Her nerves were starting to get the better of her.

Eyes widening, then narrowing, then looking skyward, Rook's shoulders round as she pushes herself away from him. He doesn't attempt to keep her from leaving, doesn't try to hold her against her will. "Stop." He begins. "You've got to stop. You're accepting rejection before it even happens. Do you see? You don't even fully understand what I was trying to say. You haven't tried. You're just listening to your father in your head. Not good enough, not the right color." The muscles in his jaw popped out again, he stepped forward and took her by the shoulders for a second time. "Just stop. Be still. Listen to me."

"You can't expect me to be able to fully express myself after that. It's not going to happen. Too much going on. Everywhere. The lips, the--listen. Listen. The standards of my relationships are higher than anyone else's because I'm supposed to be an example. Everyone looks to me to see how to properly raise a family. That means it's slower going. It has to be done with deliberation. It has to be solid, with a strong foundation. Not based on whim or momentary..lu...look, it requires patience because it has to be done properly from the beginning. It's building something for others to see and strive for." He pauses, releasing her shoulders and running his hands down the backs of her arms.

"We both have to be ready, together. And we aren't. You're just beginning to sprout into the person you should be. You deserve to be. An oak tree doesn't tower overnight. It starts as a seed, deep in the soil. In time it grows to something that can't be shaken or moved. Just...be patient. Take this journey with me. Stop running from and start running towards."

"Besides," He says softly, eyes shining again. "If you want the honey, you have to work to get into the beehive."

Her back stiffens and she stops in her retreat, but she doesn't turn to face him. She knows the accuracy of his words, but that doesn't stop the voices in her head or the reaction that has been built into her. It takes every ounce of her will to hold herself in place and not to run, trying to focus on what he is saying instead of letting her eyes seek out the nearest escape. She closes her eyes, and after a moment the tension leaves her shoulders, but it still takes considerable effort for her not to move. The hands on her shoulder steady her some, but he could feel the urge there, to run, to bolt.

At least she was trying.

He starts to speak and her eyes burst open, he can see the instant she is about to pull away again, but he stops her, talks her down as she reflexes her hands nervously. Somehow she holds her ground, biting her tongue to the remark that comes to her lips, but his final comment earns him both a shocked expression and a glare. "That is the most inappropriate thing for a priest to say, and I'm not even religious..." She raises her bare fingers to her forehead and worries them there. "I wasn't looking for a marriage proposal." she says finally, pursing her lips, "Just-- confirmation... that something was there. My powers of perception... " she trails off. It needn't be said.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:21, Wed 15 June 2016.

"Well, it wasn't a proposal. Eventually, but. Regardless. It looks like we both misunderstood. Not a problem." His hands lift from her arms. "The fact remains, I don't dally. I know what I want and it isn't dalliance." Rook says unapologetically. He backed off from her and retrieved his own boots, sitting on the ground to put them back on. "I got away from myself. I tend to do that." He throws his hands up and stands. "Just for the future, in some situations it's better to ask rather than act."

Aris'ta narrowed her eyes slightly, taking her arms and folding them across her chest tightly. Something in the words he used hurt, as if he was continuing in his misunderstanding of her own meaning. This time, she didn't bother to correct him, or even try. The implication wounded her, but this time, she was careful enough to hide it.

"Oh, you don't have to worry yourself in that regard." She had no intention of showing spontaneous affection again. It had been a whim, nothing more. She also didn't mention that 'asking' removed something special from such a moment. "I'm not likely to try it again."

She runs her finger over her brow, hating the sudden awkwardness that holds there. There was no part of this she expected or desired. She almost dreaded speaking for fear of what it would bring. "I suppose I should make ready for tomorrow, there's no need to move further tonight," she says, referencing the sword.

The land around Oleg's is fairly flat and easy to walk.  Grasses grow wild here, with occasional copses of a few trees surrounded by bushes.  It would be a good place for growing cereals, fruit trees and other crops.  However, there are few places to hide from the wind in winter or the sun in summer.

Ferdinand strolls slowly around the outpost.

Cyrus had almost made it to the stables when he caught the sight of Ferdinand in his shiny armor. By the look of him, this was a warrior, armed and armored, with a mount that had clearly been trained to carry him into and out of great battles. Cyrus had trained with older warriors before. Retired swordsman looking to have an easy income and though they had trained him well, they were not men Cyrus admired.

Ferdinand, on the other hand, was the spitting image of the tales of old. A knight to be sure. Though older and wiser. Had Cyrus been a decade younger, he would have approached the man with an offer to be his squire, to serve at his whim and to learn what morsels he tossed aside through his sheer force of will. Instead, now a man of means, though limited at the present, he knew he must approach the man with admiration and respect, both for Ferdinand and himself.

Pivoting, he turned to meet the knight along his path, and as their paths merged he said, "Sir Ferdinand, I must ask, what has brought you to our new settlement and will you stay and aid Henry and my companions in our quest to bring peace to these lands?"

”Hello there.  Cyrus, isn’t it?” The knight returns Cyrus’s greeting, before responding to his question as they stroll.

”I am just here to see how things are going and carry a report back to my colleagues in Restov.  They believe it is in the best interests of our fair city that this area is quietened and controlled, and eventually even opened up as an alternative trade route for us.  You know the river south of here runs down to Mivon and into the Sellen proper?” He half reminds Cyrus with a question.

”As for staying to help, my days for that are long gone.  Now a days, I manage my estates outside Restov, and honouring the oath I made to my old adventuring pals.  Those were the days, when I rode with Jamandi and the others, making names and fortunes for ourselves.  Now, of course, they all have other responsibilities.  Although they are still all true to their original intention  of making Restov great again.”

Cyrus' jaw dropped at the way Sir Ferdinand so cavalierly mentioned Jamandi Aldori, he'd known Ferdinand was here on behalf of her, but that he'd rode with her seemingly for many years...

He quickly recovered his composure, still addressing his lapse, "Forgive my expression, my childhood was filled with tales of the Baron Aldori and his exploits. To travel with and fight beside a true Aldori, both in name and in skill, what an honor? But enough about my childhood fantasies, I"m curious, you mentioned honoring an oath to Jamandi and the others, what was the nature of that oath? Though I have only traveled with my colleagues here for a short time, I find our bonds are growing and my commitment to their well being is paramount."

He paused and then continued, "Is there anything I can help you with as you look to gather information for your report?"

Fredinand smiles at the younger man’s reaction.  ”Well someone needed to keep her out of trouble,” but then he relents and is a bit more forthcoming.  ”She was just a girl way back then, and I was just another younger son looking for adventure.  She certainly gave me that.  Although, to be fair, there were a few others there as well. “ he concedes.  ”I mainly stood there and got hit, while Jamandi danced around them  and cut them to pieces.  But I came into my own when  I had Fleetheart with me.”

Ferdinand walks quietly for a while as he considers the past and Cyrus’s question.  Then with a strange look he stops and turns to the younger man.  ”By that time Jamandi and a couple of the others had had had set their goal to become powerful and influential,  and to drive Restov forward.  I thought that was a good goal and I swore, in the temple of Abadar, that I would help and support them in that.”

Hardly waiting for a response he strolls  on again slowly, ”I think I have all I need for my report, thank you.” he says smiling at the younger man.

Cyrus laughed at Ferdinand's joke about standing and taking the blows, he could definitely relate to that posture. But at the mention of Fleetheart, he made the connection, and was about to ask when Ferdinand went into more detail on his commitment to his companions. Cyrus was really quite curious about what that meant but was also keenly aware that it had taken Ferdinand time to find his words and  now Ferdinand seemed to be dismissing him with his response to aiding him with his report. Cyrus seized the end of that discussion as a transition point to return to the horse.

"Fleetheart is your steed, right? I have a horse here, but she is not trained for combat so I tend to dismount and take the hits for my friends. I learned the basics of riding as a boy, I even jousted a bit, but my training focused on my blade and my shield. Would you be willing to work with me? To help me learn to fight and ride as you do?"

Ferdinand looks across at the younger man, and raises an eyebrow slightly.  "I will be returning to Restov shortly, and you will be here.  However, I will be be exercising Fleetheart in the morning, and I would be happy to give you some pointers, if you would care to ride along.  However, the key to being a good cavalryman, is to have a good horse - and until you have a beast who is trained to battle and the ways of war, you will always struggle in a mounted combat.  An untrained horse will jink and move at the wrong times, and will shy away from your enemy throwing your blow off.  The best bit of advice I can give you is invest in a good horse and then look after him as if your life depended on it.  For one day, it might." he says with a gentle smile.
This message was last updated by the player at 07:53, Thu 13 Oct 2016.

Cyrus smiled at the offer for some early pointers but knew he had a challenge, "My friend Viktoria has a trained horse, perhaps she will let me practice with it tomorrow. I would welcome any advice you were willing to provide!"

Cyrus pauses and then asks, "Did you train Fleetheart yourself or was he trained when he came into your possession? For that matter did you name him yourself? You seem to have a strong bond with him and you talk of him very fondly."

Continuing Cyrus says, "Forgive my presumptions, but you said your commitment to Jamandi and the others was made in a temple of Abadar, do you belong to a religious order or is that the temple available to you at the time?"

"His father was Fleetfoot, his mother was a mare called Stoutheart.  He became Fleetheart." Ferdinand explains the way in which his horse was named.  "I certainly helped with hios training, and he has been with me for a long time now.  He looks after me in battle, so I do my best to look after him when we aren't." he continues, as he explains his relationship with his mount.

When Cyrus asks about his oath, Fredinand stops and turns towards the younger man. "The Order of the Dragon." he replies after a moment "Although that is not a religious order, nor was my oath made to Abadar, rather it was made in-front of his priests who witnessed and recorded my promise to myself.  The order itself is very informal, we are just a bunch of cavalrymen who have dedicated our lives to something bigger than ourselves.  In our pride, we think this makes us better people than we were before.  It certainly gives you a focus in life." He finishes off with a grin.

Ferdinand's answered piqued Cyrus' interest more than they had before and he continued to ask questions, "Ah, Fleetheart has great lineage then, what grand names. How does he watch out for you in battle? I have seen a horse kick and bite but has he learned any other tricks? There is a woman here who seems quite skilled with animals, she was teaching her horse to throw the rider the last time we were here."

He paused and then said, "The Order of the Dragon sounds quite noble. Your oath is to the order and to your friends then, I presume that they are the something bigger than yourself you speak of, no?"

"A Knight and his horse are a partnership.  I know that Fleetheart will carry me out of battle should I be unconscious in the saddle."</darkgreen) Is about all he has to say on his relationship with his horse, but he is happy to expand on his oath.

<darkgreen>"Ah.  I have not explained myself well.  The Oath, my public vow if you prefer, is to no one.  It just is.  It serve to remind me of my goal and to focus  my thoughts should they wander.  The 'Bigger Thing' is the vow itself, in my case to protect, support and further the aims of my old colleagues as they invest in Restov.  The order itself is very informal.  We all have different oaths, we all have different purposes in life.  I know one member of the order who sometimes works against Restov and my friends.  I work to oppose him, in those circumstances, but I can still respect him for the oath he has made and adheres to.

"I hate to admit it, but having someone to haul me around when I get knocked unconscious would be more valuable than it likely should be." Cyrus says with a grin emphasizing the shared affinity they have for getting hit.

He listens to the description of the oath and the order, "I think that your Order is something I could get behind. I often thought my family had lost a sense of purpose and direction and feared that we would crumble without one, though what it should be hadn't made itself clear."

"Think carefully on it.  A lifetime commitment is not something to be taken lightly" the Knight replies.  "But enough of this for now, you need to make plans for the task you have been assigned. If nothing else, you need to know who will be travelling  with you."

"I will. I'm in the midst of another commitment of equal duration and though the two would be closely related, I would not make either on a whim. I am glad to have met you Ferdinand and I look forward to riding with you in the morning. What time do you begin your training sessions with Fleetheart?"

He paused and then before parting he said, "Do you have any words of wisdom for assaulting a fort? We were lucky last time that the inhabitants were all gone with one exception, this time we are facing at least a magic user and whatever henchmen she has in her employ, not to mention the tunnels below."

"Lets say 3 hours after dawn." Ferdinand suggests for the start of training, then smiles at Cyrus's next question  "I'm a cavalryman," he reminds Cyrus, "and we are not renowned for our ability to take fortresses.  Give me an open field any day of the week ..."

Cyrus nods his head acknowledging the meeting time and then laughs heartily as he leaves the cavalryman to his rounds.

He makes his way to the fire as all the talk has made him quite hungry and he wanted to check on Valoria's progress with the books.