The butt of the sword hit Berrod squarely in the gut. The Highlander stumbled backward with an awkward heave and clutched the already reddening spot on his abdomen. "Agh -- damnit." It was a clean enough hit to make him gasp for air for more than a few ticks. The Black haired highlander who hit him however, did not press the advantage. Instead he withdrew and studied Berrod closely with discerning blue eyes. Berrod met them with a return of green confusion.
"Why'd y'stop, Cades? Y'had me."
Caden Agron held the greatsword with both hands, then proceeded to stow it onto the harness strapped to his otherwise bare torso. Sweat soaked him, down to the dark blue training slops. From his labored breathing, their last exchange of sparring blows had been particularly intense. Â "Yer distracted," He pointed out. "Ye never let a hit like that through before. What's goin' on in that head of yers?"
The question's sudden frankness caught Berrod off guard -- enough for him to forget the lingering ache the strike had gifted him. He straightened up, dressed in the same wares as Caden save for the color. His slops were a deep, blood red. The bruise on his stomach grew clearer as each moment passed. After a deep, pained breath, the redhead answered the other man truthfully. "Went to a meetin' wit' some other monks last night, down in Lil' Mhigo." The words arrested Caden's complete attention at once, and prompted eager curiousity.
"How'd it go?"
Berrod rubbed at his stomach idly in a somewhat unconscious bid to ease the re-emerging and irritating agony. How did it go? It was exactly that which spun in his head and blurred his focus. Being asked the question by another, however, made an answer much easier to find.
"...Too many agendas," He began slowly, "The meetin' was to talk about reformin' and rebuildin' the Fists of Rhalgr, but jus' listenin' to everybody...lotta them are in it fer more than that, an' that don't make me feel too good, y'know?"
Caden folded his arms and shook his head. "It ain't a strange thing that people have their own lil' goals in addition to the big one," He reasoned, "Why's that bother you?"
The words gave Berrod pause, and he struggled for a little while to articulate what was on his mind. "Thing is, it seemed like the order itself was the additional goal fer some, wit' their agenda bein' the main event. I dunno, it don't make me comfortable or confident. The idea behind it all is good, but..." He trailed off and rubbed at the coarse, ruddy stubble along his jaw. "-- an' besides that, I dunno how many o'them are actually in it fer God, y'know? I know that Adalhaid gal is, but other than her, I ain't heard or seen no interest in it -- wasn't no prayer or nothin'. People talkin' about chakras an' power...but not a mention o'God himself. That bothered me a lot. I'm a monk. Yeah, I move my fists in His name an' beseech 'im for power...but I never forget that it's Him in the end."
Caden didn't seem to have an answer that one. Given Berrod's continuing fidgeting, however, he simply granted him with an expectant look as leave to continue.Â
"I'm not investin' in it yet. I wanna get some guidance on it first -- pray a lil' too. Maybe talk to some o'them one on one, see what they really want. Get a feel fer it. As it is now...egh. Glad I didn't carry in any o'the learners fer that ta cloud up their heads. Been makin' too much progress wit' 'em lately ta muck it all up now."Â
"Doesn't sound like ye got much hope, Berrod."
"I got hope," Berrod assured, "But I ain't blind, and I ain't chasin' after nothin' other than what it's supposed ta be. As always, it's a fight ta get things right, even if it's wit' words an' ideas at first. An' if not...well I guess I'll jus' keep doin' what I'm doin'. I didn't learn the old ways jus' ta give up. Now draw that big dumb ol' sword o'yers so I can break it on yer teeth. We got a spar ta finish."
"Why'd y'stop, Cades? Y'had me."
Caden Agron held the greatsword with both hands, then proceeded to stow it onto the harness strapped to his otherwise bare torso. Sweat soaked him, down to the dark blue training slops. From his labored breathing, their last exchange of sparring blows had been particularly intense. Â "Yer distracted," He pointed out. "Ye never let a hit like that through before. What's goin' on in that head of yers?"
The question's sudden frankness caught Berrod off guard -- enough for him to forget the lingering ache the strike had gifted him. He straightened up, dressed in the same wares as Caden save for the color. His slops were a deep, blood red. The bruise on his stomach grew clearer as each moment passed. After a deep, pained breath, the redhead answered the other man truthfully. "Went to a meetin' wit' some other monks last night, down in Lil' Mhigo." The words arrested Caden's complete attention at once, and prompted eager curiousity.
"How'd it go?"
Berrod rubbed at his stomach idly in a somewhat unconscious bid to ease the re-emerging and irritating agony. How did it go? It was exactly that which spun in his head and blurred his focus. Being asked the question by another, however, made an answer much easier to find.
"...Too many agendas," He began slowly, "The meetin' was to talk about reformin' and rebuildin' the Fists of Rhalgr, but jus' listenin' to everybody...lotta them are in it fer more than that, an' that don't make me feel too good, y'know?"
Caden folded his arms and shook his head. "It ain't a strange thing that people have their own lil' goals in addition to the big one," He reasoned, "Why's that bother you?"
The words gave Berrod pause, and he struggled for a little while to articulate what was on his mind. "Thing is, it seemed like the order itself was the additional goal fer some, wit' their agenda bein' the main event. I dunno, it don't make me comfortable or confident. The idea behind it all is good, but..." He trailed off and rubbed at the coarse, ruddy stubble along his jaw. "-- an' besides that, I dunno how many o'them are actually in it fer God, y'know? I know that Adalhaid gal is, but other than her, I ain't heard or seen no interest in it -- wasn't no prayer or nothin'. People talkin' about chakras an' power...but not a mention o'God himself. That bothered me a lot. I'm a monk. Yeah, I move my fists in His name an' beseech 'im for power...but I never forget that it's Him in the end."
Caden didn't seem to have an answer that one. Given Berrod's continuing fidgeting, however, he simply granted him with an expectant look as leave to continue.Â
"I'm not investin' in it yet. I wanna get some guidance on it first -- pray a lil' too. Maybe talk to some o'them one on one, see what they really want. Get a feel fer it. As it is now...egh. Glad I didn't carry in any o'the learners fer that ta cloud up their heads. Been makin' too much progress wit' 'em lately ta muck it all up now."Â
"Doesn't sound like ye got much hope, Berrod."
"I got hope," Berrod assured, "But I ain't blind, and I ain't chasin' after nothin' other than what it's supposed ta be. As always, it's a fight ta get things right, even if it's wit' words an' ideas at first. An' if not...well I guess I'll jus' keep doin' what I'm doin'. I didn't learn the old ways jus' ta give up. Now draw that big dumb ol' sword o'yers so I can break it on yer teeth. We got a spar ta finish."
![[Image: tumblr_ojgu7zoaag1robwlio1_540.png]](https://68.media.tumblr.com/80be4033cdf57fb6268473ef9ce37db6/tumblr_ojgu7zoaag1robwlio1_540.png)
