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The Bee-Lister (Open) [COMPLETE]


Gegenji

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Xavarian listened with interest, not without scribbling things down either, when the subjects of Aether and those who knew it arose.  The elezen seemed to spark a bit through the time he sat and listened, little streaks of lightning aspected Aether jumping along his body.  He didn't seem to be readying any hostile movement, however, by his face and posture, still with a smile and looking relatively tired.  In fact, he may not have even noticed...

 

"Is she~?  It sounds as though she is a Scholar of Grimoire, among those who utilize tomes for Aetherical direction.. How intriguing, this Ms. Artemis sounds like she would be interesting to meet~  Though, ah-"  He pauses a moment, bring a hand up to his lips to think, and finally realizes it's sparking.  By now some of his hair has started to stand up from the static, and he huffs, shaking his hand out as though that might be rid of the sparks.  It only partly works, though the air chills slightly instead. . .

 

"Excuse me."  He mutters, before continuing, more curious but with a hint of concern.  "You cannot find your brother?"  Clearly his sharp ears hadn't missed the murmur.  "I, ah, well, you need not speak of it if you'd rather not, of course, but.. if he has an interest in Aether, and you seek to find him, perhaps I can be of use there.  Or, I mean, so much as looking out for one of his description.  ... If you'd care for such a thing, anyway, I do not mean to mettle."  He waves a placating hand, not wishing to offend somehow.  

 

"But beyond that, I ah- Conjury is something I- well, I've some knowledge in, but not the most apt.  Yet.  A field of study I too am still.. learning."  A hand runs through his hair, the air becoming a bit colder around him, though there's none to say it might not be a nice relief in the desert sun.  "Considering the differences in Aetherical sources, I can only help in ways of teaching to appease one's surroundings and the ... Elementals" the word said with an odd, thoughtful distance "to draw their Aether in tandem with one's will so much yet.  'So much' being 'little'~  That of nature finds it.. amusing not always to listen to me, I suppose."  He huffs lightly, thinking of the various mishaps he had with both Wind and Earth seeming to choose wills of their own to follow instead of his.  There were untold hairknots, being blown over, and bruises those days.  

 

"I will not deny one's search for knowledge, but in that regard, there are those far greater to teach than I~  My particular skills of current lie much closer with that of the self's Aetherical potency, hm~?  I've, ah."  He shakes a hand some, little bits of frost now falling from it to melt before they reach the ground.  "I've quite a lot of that~  I just seek to learn everything of all sorts of Aether that I can, but have much yet to see.  So if you are interested in discussing theory, doing experiments, and finding application of various Aetherical manipulations, then I would quite enjoy speaking to you of such matters, but.. well,"  A gesture to Warren, with the inclusion of a somewhat amused, sly look as to say 'I see what you did there.' to the Paladin.  "As he said, knowledge of spellery and the sword are different matters, and I have only the former~"

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Chachanji nodded eagerly at Warren, puffing up his wee chest proudly before speaking. "Aye, I had slated most'a this day ta gettin' better wit me sword. So I'd be happy fer any halp ye can give."

 

As the three conversed, Gran had gone back to his posturing in front of Victory. The baby behemoth was making quite a wide manner of snorts and snuffles, daring the chocobo to come at him. He rose up in a few mock charges and pawed at the ground a few times for added emphasis. Whether he was actually looking for a fight or just wanting to play was hard to tell, but little Gran seemed excited about it nonetheless.

 

"Ah, err... ya heard that, didya?" Chacha commented sheepishly, only turning his head enough to get eyes on Xavarian again. The chuckle that followed was a melancholy one. "Heh heh... 'm sorry. Me brother was always inta th' readin' 'n bookmagics 'n stuff. All th' stuff yer talkin' about jus' reminded me o' him a wee bit. I'm sure 'e woulda loved ta meetcha, coulda talked smart-stuffs wit ya fer days."

 

Putting a lighter spin on the matter seemed to brighten the Lalafell's mood a bit. He turned more fully to the Duskwight, either unaware that the various element-tuned aether flitting around him was odd or - quite possibly - not caring overly much. As the Elezen spoke of aetherial potency and manipulation, Chachanji just smiled and nodded.

 

"Yeah, Gogo would'a loved you." He had no clue what Xavarian was even talking about, but he was quite certain it would be right up Gogonji's alley. He followed this up with a corrective waggle of his finger as he continued. "Anyroad, ya still know more about th' conjoory than I do, so any bit'll halp! 'Specially if'n it can protect people."

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Victory couldn't figure out what to make of the plum-shaded companion. He clearly seemed ready for Victory to tangle with him again. The bird lowered his beak again and attempted to brush the creature on its side once more, since doing that the first time seemed to get a reaction.

 

Warren was taking his turn to listen once more in the meanwhile, though he did cast a watchful eye over towards the armored bird. He didn't think Victory would go so far as to hurt the roaming pig, but...

 

"I have some bells before I'm due anywhere, so at your leisure I can see what you've already learned and try to expand upon that." He smiled again and rested his hands on his waist, one settling on the hilt of his sword comfortably and familiarly.

 

The conversation shifted once more towards things magical and Warren resumed patiently listening. What little he'd read and what little of that he understood would surely balk in the face of true, applied study. He couldn't help his thoughts turning to events prior but beyond a faintly vacant passing moment in his eyes, he remained smiling cordially.

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Xavarian huffed, though with amusement more than anything, and brought a hand to his face with a grin.  "I cannot argue with that~  I will help you then, but only if you promise to find a better teacher than I, later~  Knowing how little I know, I cannot merely leave you to thinking that my tiny experience is all there is~"

 

He gives a somewhat warmer, though tired smile before scribbling down more in his tome.  And that warmth was reflected in a subtle shift in temperature around the Elezen.

 

"Though, it won't be this sun.  I- Well, I am the sort that may do things strangely to those of you who live on the- er, 'above', here, and I sleep during the sun's hours~  Right now it's.. quite late for me, and I am truthfully exhausted.  Any teaching now would be dreadful at best~  But!"

 

A finger is held up in emphasis at the pause in his deep, lilting tone.  

 

"Where might I leave word for you, or meet you again?  I do not live in the city, and... travel quite frequently, but if you know an evening you would be willing to hear and try what little I've to say and show, then I will return to teach you.  Should you want it, of course."  The Duskwight couldn't help a dorky sort of pursed-lip smile at that.

 

And meanwhile, Vathen, who had been resting most of the conversation, peered over at the exchange between Gran and Victory.  Only a low coo came from the observing chocobo.

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Ah, but Gran was ready for the assault this time! With a glimmer in his porcine eye, he dodged to the side and away from the oncoming beak. Seeing his opening, he pressed his advantage and charged into Victory's leg!

 

... And bounced off with a sound not unlike a dog's squeaky toy. Still, Gran considered this attack a success and spun around once in a little victory dance. Eyes closed, snout upturned proudly, one would think he had defeated a long-set rival rather than merely bumped a bird in the leg.

 

Chachanji, on the other hand, was currently still engrossed in much more peaceful matters. At Xavarian's admission to his weariness, he took on a shocked and then apologetic look. He padded his way lightly towards the Duskwight and gave him a gentle pat on the leg.

 

"If yer sleepy, ya should go sleeps," he advised wisely. "If'n ya need ta get in touch wit me, I'm pretty sure ya can leave a message wit Momodi. She's lettin' me shack up in th' Hourglass while I do my halpin' out 'round Ul'dah, so she'd be me best bet."

 

He took on a firmer tone once that was said, looking at the much taller Elezen sternly.

 

"Now, off ta bed wit ye! Ya need yer sleeps!"

 

With his piece said, the little Lalafell marched his way back over to Warren, looking up at the almost-as-tall Highlander. He looked the Hyur over, recalling what he had just said about showing him what he knew so far about the fine art of swording. His gaze flitted to his own little indigo-hued blade, then to Warren's much larger weapon, and then back at the man himself.

 

"So... err... am I sposta attack ya or somethin'?" he queried neatly.

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Victory watched the porkrind dance out of the way and bustle in towards his armored legs, the bird bent over itself and peering around as the fearsome beast bounced off of the metal like so many stones off of the walls of Ul'dah. The chocobo leaned back down and sought to nudge the little guy again, with slightly more fervor. He'd never seen something so small so interested in him and was more used to the marmots and vermin that vanished as he tromped by.

 

Warren once more looked Chachanji over. "That would be one way to do it. Likely the safest, too. I don't doubt you keep your blade keen but I am hopeful I would be able to stave off your attacks, and if I can't I trust my armor to. It would give me a first-hand view of how you approach with a weapon, and your approach is instrumental on your ability to follow-through and protect yourself from gaps in your offense."

 

The paladin turned to bid the elezen with a small nod. "Oschon guide you on your path, wherever it might lead."

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Xavarian couldn't help a small snicker at the advice, though took notes on what the hero-to-be had said about residing at the Hourglass.  The light pat on the leg would feel to the Lalafell as though he had momentarily touched something like a heating-pad (or any Eorzean equivalent that may exist), insofar as it wouldn't burn, but would be much warmer than one otherwise might expect from a brief touch.  The Elezen himself, however, didn't seem to be particularly bothered by this, really.  Maybe it was just the sunlight on the dark clothes...

 

"I will, and thank you~  It may be several nights time, depending on.. other arrangements, but I will leave word when I can~"  Finishing up his writing, the temperature around him cools a moment as he waves a hand over the ink, before snapping the book shut.  Not without a wide stretch, and a rub of his eyes does he stand, stepping back to be out of the way of the pair.  He shuffles around once upright, sticking his tome back on to his belt just so and getting all the dust off of his robe and backside.

 

"It was nice to meet you both, and good luck with your swords training, hm~?  May Th-" A small pause.  "the Twelve watch over you~"  He amends with a raise of a hand, and an amused smile.  Not all might take well to his usual goodbyes, he couldn't help but think, but at least he caught it.  This time. 

 

Xavarian then crossed his arms and turned to Vathen, still sprawled out in the sand.  "Well, you look like you're enjoying yourself there~  Though time to go, up, unless you'd rather just roll about out here~ In the sun."  The bird looked up at the Elezen, almost indignant for a moment, as though quite content where he stopped, before eventually rising and nudging the Elezen lightly in protest.  Xavarian huffed back, an unspoken conversation taking place between the duskwight and his companion while leaving a moment to dust the chocobo off too, brushing sand from the bird's feathers carefully.  He gets dirty enough out here with the dust storms, who could figure all that sand would be comfortable?  Though it wasn't long before the dark duskwight was satisfied with the brief cleaning, and hoisted himself up into the equally dark saddle.

 

  For just a little while the training pair had Xavarian's attention, thoughts that couldn't be seen on his features trickling through his mind, though he then squinted in the direction of the city, gave a small murmur to his bird, and the dark duo took off towards Ul'dah.  Certainly an interesting end to an interesting night.  

 

That was fun, and Chachanji and Gran are freakin adorable.  Warren is also pretty great (and yes, suspicion, good.)

 

My vague schedule can be found at the bottom of the link in my signature, if you wanted Chachanji and Xavarian to meet up sometime in-game to practice Conjury.  :>  Feel free to poke me in whispers if I'm online too, or send me a PM here if / whenever you'd be available to do that.  Otherwise, forum RP is also fine with me!  Though slower paced, it's easy to keep track of despite schedules, so that works too if you want to follow up on this.  But let me know here or otherwise!  I'd be glad to have these guys meet up again sometime.

 

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Gran was right upset when his little victory dance was interrupted by a sneak attack from the crafty Victory! He gave another irate squeal as he stumbled to regain his footing, though ultimately tumbled onto his side. He kicked and flailed and spazzed about with a litany of what could only be the piglet-version of unchecked swearing. After a couple good, solid kicked with all four little legs, though, he was back on his feet. And he was fightin' mad!

 

Chachanji, on the other hand, was a bit more nervous about his chosen opponent. He was of two minds on it, really. On the one hand, this was a freaking Paladin! While utterly awesome, was he sure that he could even land a blow on the well-armored Highlander? Success only led to his next concern: his father had oft boasted on the quality of the family's craft, so what if he actually ended up hurting Warren? Sure, he knew some minor healing magicks thanks to his brother, but it still wasn't very heroic to hurt a friend!

 

Still, Warren looked quite sure of what he was doing. And, as a Paladin, he should easily be able to repel the little Lalafell's attack. So, at best, Chacha might show some talent but be carefully parried at the end. At worst, he makes a fool of himself and shows his utter incompetence at handling a blade. The Gegenji child found himself suddenly hoping for the former.

 

"O-okay, um..." he stuttered, sliding his indigo blade from its sheath and prepping his little bronze shield. "... Here goes!"

 

He paused for just a moment in his awkward little battle stance, if it could even be called that. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath to center himself, and opened those violet orbs again. His whole tiny Lalafellan body tensed.

 

"Eyaaaaaah!" came Chachanji's little war-cry as he rushed the much taller Hyur. There was no form, no finesse to his charge; he was literally doing little more than running forward with his shield at his side and his sword over his head as if he meant to squash an errant spider with it. Adding to that was the fact that he charged just like he had with the hornet - with eyes closed and face scrunched in determination.

 

As if moving in tandem with his master, Gran too charged the much larger Victory after a brief pawing at the air with his tiny front legs. Unlike the Lalafell, however, his glistening black eyes were dead-set on his towering target. He closed the gap with his own squealing war-cry, which mingled with Chachanji's.

 

The two both also made their attack in surprising synergy. As Chachanji swung with all his little might blindly at Warren's upper thighs, Gran finally broke gaze with Victory to bring his fledgling horns to bear. The entire scene was almost poetic, if not rather silly-looking.

 

 

Thanks for playing along, Dasair! It was great having you.

:D

 

And I'm always up for an RP, either in-game or here on the forums. So, hopefully Chacha will meet up with Mr. Difficult Name again sometime soon!

 

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Warren grinned with determination as young Chachanji began to work himself up to aggression. He took half a step back as the lalafell drew his weapon and prepared himself and Warren readied his shield with practiced form. His first impression was that Chachanji had the battle cry down pat, but as he began his approach the knight could see there was a lot of room for improvement.

 

Still, he wouldn't underestimate his opponent or take his own experiences for granted. Too many hard losses at the Grindstone to do anything but presume either of them could be the victor. Chachanji's chief advantage, and one that Warren had seen be a vital part of a lalafell's combat technique, was his size. Warren's shield was as large as his opponent but it was also a head higher than him off of the ground, and it was unlikely that Chachanji was going to be swinging for Warren's chest.

 

To stifle this, Warren took a fast step forward and crouched low to the ground, bringing his shield up in front of him and tucking his head under the crest of it. His free hand dipped to the hilt of his sword and waited for the inevitable - he thought - PWANG of an armored body running headlong into a tempered metal wall. If things played out as he expected to, young Chachanji would be surprised by not only reaching impact sooner than he'd expected due to Warren's long stride but also by opening his eyes and seeing the sharp edge of Warren's sword pointed in his direction.

 

Victory's stake in the game seemed to be distracted by his master appearing to engage in combat. The bird was nothing if not loyal and he visibly tensed, watching to see if Warren would need his aid. Gran's thump into his leg wasn't unnoticed, but the bird's priority had shifted.

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A "pwang" Warren expected and a "pwang" Warren received as the Lalafell, his eyes squeezed shut as they were, ran headlong into the shield. From the Hyur's angle, he could easily see the length of Chachanji's indigo-hued blade peeking up over the curved steel. It wobbled from the impact, then fell back out of view as the green-haired youth staggered backward briefly before tipping over. The tell-tale squeak of Gran hitting armored chocobo leg at around the same time didn't help matters either.

 

"Ooooooow..." Chacha whined, rubbing his button nose with an armored hand, hoping to massage the stinging pain out of it. His eyes, wet with fresh tears, were focused crossly on said nose. It was only once he had assuaged that problem that he actually looked up to see Warren's much larger blade pointed squarely at him.

 

"Wah!" he yelped, skittering backwards a couple yalms out of pure instinct like some sort of strange river crab. His blade lay forgotten in the dirt where it had fell, and his shield only still with him through the merit of it being strapped to his arm. Both hands, now no longer focuses on aiding in the rapid retreat, were now waving wildly in the air. "I yield! I yield!"

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"Easy, easy. I'm not swinging!" Warren disarmed himself by sheathing the weapon and retrieved Chachanji's sword from the dust, turning it over in his hands and getting a feel for it. To him, it was more of a large knife than anything else but it was balanced and serviceable. He turned it over and offered it back to its owner with the handle pointed towards the lalafell.

 

"Interesting angle of attack," he said with a polite smile. "Though it would be easier to see where you were going with your eyes open. You'll want to make sure you're not swinging blindly. Wouldn't want to accidentally nick any damsels who need saving."

 

Warren helped the lalafell up if he was ready and helped adjust the position of his shield arm so it was tucked up against him on his side, shielding the side of his body instead of just being lugged around on the end of his arm.

 

"Try to keep your shield up. See how my shield matches the side your sword is going to be coming from?" He indicated his left hand and Chachanji's right. "When you swing that at me, I'm going to try and match it with my shield. If I swing back with my sword-" Warren indicated that with an empty hand, similar to their pantomiming earlier, "-you're going to want that shield between you and it." He nodded and smiled encouragingly and took several steps back, standing at the ready again.

 

"Now when you're prepared, try again. Keep your eyes open this time and your shield up, alright?"

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"O-oh, o-okay!" Chachanji managed, still a little shaken from the impact and what came after. "Sh-shield up, eyes o-open! G-got it!"

 

He fell into a battle stance again once Warren was away and back in his own. He had the shield forward now, all right, and looked to all the world as if he was trying to hide behind it. His sword arm hung more limply at his side, the tip of the blade almost touching the ground.

 

"Shield up, eyes open. Shield up, eyes open. Eeled up, shies open..." the little Lalafell repeated nervously, a mantra to both burn the hints into memory and to center himself before charged the imposing Paladin again. He wanted to close his eyes again, but knew not to. In some sort of strange compromise, he ended up with the eye closest to Warren open while the other took comfort in being squeezed shut.

 

"Ayaaaaaaah!" he shouted again as she charged. Or, more appropriately, it looked like his shield was charging and he was being dragged along with it. At least the slackness was gone in his sword arm now, the blade held up and out to his side for what would most likely be a wild horizontal swing.

 

Gran, on the other hand, had finished up his second victory dance under the shadow of the towering Victory - either oblivious to or ignoring the fact that the chocobo's attentions were elsewhere. He might have pressed his attack with his opponent thusly distracted, but the little porker felt he had proven his martial merit.

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Warren was glad to see Chachanji taking instruction. The little swordsman seemed to be grappling with his own determination but followed through anyway, and his second charge seemed much more serious than the first attempt. Further, Warren was glad to see he wasn't using the same approach and was opting for a different swing instead of the crazy overhead type.

 

Warren half-crouched down and repelled the attack with his shield, then backpedaled slightly and tried to coax the lalafell to follow. If his dander was up and he didn't realize that he was swinging a weapon at someone else, he didn't want to risk clarity or lucidity sneaking in now.

 

"Good! Again!" The clash of metal against metal rang out in the rocky dust of Thanalan and Warren grinned.

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The deflection of his blade sent Chachanji stumbling a couple steps in the direction his weapon had been diverted. To his credit, he still had his sword in hand, but that may have been solely due to the death-grip he had on it. He managed to regain his footing well enough, though his back was to his opponent.

His eyes had squeezed shut out of habit just as he swung - perhaps still afraid to see the results of his attack, for good or for ill - and he forced one back open as heard Warren's command.

 

"R-right!" he blurted out, glancing over his shoulder with the one open eye. Silently repeating the mantra in his head again, he pressed his assault. His form, perhaps due to the suggestion echoing in his mind, was almost the same as the last - right down to the same closed-eyed horizontal slash at the end. Also likely was the fact that he had been praised for it, so he was sticking to that rather than try mixing things up.

 

Gran, bored now that his playmate was suitably distracted and his victory won, settled down in the dirt beneath Victory's shadow. His glistening black eyes also found the sharp movements of the training interesting, and thus his focus went there. What they were actually doing, besides his assumed guess of play-fighting similar to that betwixt the chocobo and himself, was lost on the baby behemoth.

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Again Warren could see the lalafell amp himself up, and when he turned on his heels and re-engaged the paladin Warren leaned in again to deflect the blade away. He wondered how much fire there was to stoke and set about feeding the flames.

 

"Come on, I'm way bigger than a bee! You're fast, so hit me!" Warren retreated again, still wearing the expression of someone caught up in the spirit of the sport. This wasn't like the Grindstone, despite it still being an exhibition of skill and ability. He left his weapon on his belt and the sword bobbed around as Warren moved, leaning forward despite his movement backwards.

 

Victory had finally turned into what was going on and let his sense of alert run down. There was now a purple pet sitting in his shadow and the bird pondered for a moment whether or not to retaliate. The chocobo opted not to, for now. At least not until their masters were finished with their fight.

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"AHM TRYIN'!" Chachanji wailed as he again skittered off-course a bit from the deflection. He had much less down-time in his recovery this go-round, though this may have been due in part to a childish frustration that was building up in him. Both his eyes were open now, and his face was scrunched into a pouty look of determination.

 

Again he charged, shield leading, but made for a weird play this time around. Rather than swing his sword, he moved as if to barrel into the Highlander with his shield. Whether this was to knock him off-balance or force him to deflect shield with shield was hard to say. Little guy was just flustered and eager to do better.

 

Gran watched all this with a practiced eye and gave a simple snort as his evaluation.

 

 

... I just realized how perfect this battle music is for Chacha while writing this.

 

7A6UZvMRvSE

 

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Warren couldn't tell if Chachanji's ire was a result of him getting comfortable with the weapon after a few swings, frustration at being taunted or simply determination setting in but he was sure of what it wasn't: Hesitation and blind flailing. The lalafell had changed up his tactic again and chose to lead with his shield and the paladin was forced to respond to it.

 

"Good use of your shield arm!" His words were genuine as he threw forward a forearm to receive the blow. A watchful eye darted in the direction of the sword that may or may not be coming, but he lifted his own shield at the ready to deflect if he needed to. "Don't forget you've got one of those, just be wary of a counter-attack!" Warren's thoughts again drifted back to the Grindstone, where he'd been on the receiving end of a vicious shield ram. Things didn't pan out so much for the attacker that night.

 

The two were seemingly-locked up. Between Chachanji's shield pressed to Warren's arm and Warren's own raised, they'd created a fairly formidable bulwark that would have been difficult to swing a sword through.

 

"I can show you a thing or two with your shield, but you asked for swordsmanship today, so let's focus on that." He shoved off of the lalafell, just enough to create distance. "Not bad for someone new to the work. Have you watched fighters before or are you just trying what works?"

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Chachanji, as was becoming the norm for this training session, stumbled and skipped backward at the shove. He windmilled a bit to avoid topping over, giving a very odd scene for swordplay practice before he regained his balance. He gave an angry little snort - Warren used his arm to block his shield! That was totally cheating!

 

"Jus' tryin' ta hitcha!" the little Lalafall grunted as he fell back into his slowly improving battle stance. His purple eyes flicked briefly to the straps holding his shield to his arm. If Warren was gonna be tricksy, then he would too! Chacha started fiddling with it some with his thumb and forefinger as his gaze turned back to the Hyur. "'n I'm gonna do it!"

 

He lunged forward again, shield forward. But it was a little too far over across his chest, as if he planned to counter the Paladin's deflection with a bash of his own shield. His blade was low, almost dragging against the ground as he rushed in.

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Warren grinned again. He'd succeeded in trying to ignite the lalafell's fighting spirit, it seemed, but he wasn't sure how to put it out now! The knight steadied his stance as the lalafell ran back in, and despite appearing to telegraph a shield bash Warren didn't want to make assumptions; The lalafell had surprised him twice with rapid improvement already, and a feint wasn't out of the question.

 

Still, he felt that drawing his weapon would feel unfair at their current state. Ignoring the fact it was bigger than his opponent it was also not instrumental in teaching someone how to swing their own sword. Warren did the only thing he could do in that situation, which was blocking the shield swing with his own and waiting to see how his foe followed through.

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The Lalafell's eyes narrowed. This was it, now or never!

 

He may have looked as if to bash aside the shield with his own, but that was just happy coincidence for his real tactic - something far more reckless and wild. Having undone the straps on his shield arm, the crossover as in fact in preparation for throwing his shield!

 

"Eyah!" Chachanji shouted, launching the shield like an over-sized discus as the Hyur's head and upper body. It wasn't particularly well-aimed, so whether it would actually hit was another matter entirely, but that wasn't the point. The true purpose of the fling was as a simple, childish "made-ya-look."

 

Not even waiting to see if his bluff would work, the Lalafell immediately dropped into a power-slide to slip betwixt the Highlander's legs. As he passed, he sought to slash at the Paladin's shins and knees with an erratic swipe of his blade.

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The lalafell was certainly full of surprises.

 

Warren barely hand time to respond - to the new adventurer's credit he didn't give away his feint until he would have been nearly closing for a shield butt anyway - and his reflexes were all that caused him to deflect the tossed shield high over his head. He was aware of movement under him and turned his hips hard, but by the time he was stepping over the lalafell Chachanji had already struck. The flash of metal was followed by the telltale sound of metal on metal again and Warren grinned as he finished turning. He'd certainly been hit, there was no doubt about it, and he was glad that his armor had held. The intricacies of the sollerets caused the blade to shear off mostly harmlessly though there would be a mark.

 

Warren beamed down at the lalafell with a mixed expression of amusement and pride. He shrugged and let his hands fall to his side, rattling lightly as the chain links were moved by his gesture. "Well. You hit me."

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Chachanji just lay there for a bit, breathing hard as the adrenaline coursed through his body. His violet eyes stared skyward, not seeing the smiling face of Warren leaning over him. It was only the Hyur's words that snapped the Lalafell out of his daze, and the green-haired lad slowly sat up.

 

"I... I did it..." he breathed, still seeming to stare off at something in the distance that wasn't there. He gazed over his shoulder at the towering form of the Highlander, the realization still slowly setting in his mind. An awkward little smile crept across his features. "Ha... haha... I did it! I did it!"

 

He didn't care that his shield had gotten flung off somewheres. He didn't mind that his wild swing had ultimately amounted to nothing. He just knew that his blade had clanged off something that wasn't just Warren's shield. And it was the best feeling.

 

"Yeah... Yeah! I toldja I'd hitcha!" he proclaimed proudly, waggling a finger the Highlander's way. That shaking finger slowed soon enough, though, as the rush slowly drained away. Soon he was on his feet again, crouching next to Warren's leg and eye-ing it nervously. All that vim and vigor had almost immediately been replaced with worry and concern.

 

"Um... um... I-I didn't hurtcha, did I?"

 

He looked up at the Paladin from his hunched over postion, eyes that had just moments ago been lit with determination and then revelry were now pleading.

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Warren lifted the leg and turned it this way and that, then shook it for good measure. "Doesn't hurt to stand on. I'll be fine with some bed rest, I think." He laughed softly, fairly certain that the lalafell would take him seriously.

 

"In the future, I'd suggest against throwing your shield at your antagonist. Though it's good sometimes for a surprise attack, like you just saw, it's generally bad for you in the long run. Better to keep your guard up and wear your foe down than do anything so risky. Since you're shorter than most people're gonna be used to fighting with, use that to your advantage. These boots are heavy, after all. Having to dance and move in them's tiring work."

 

Warren scanned for the lalafell's shield and nodded towards it, some yalms away. "You adapted well. That's good, shows you've got a fighting instinct. Most folks would be too timid to try anything that bold so soon. If you practice on staying focused and not squinting away from your target, you're liable to have bees running from you before too long."

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Even joking about bed rest got a worried whine out of Chachanji, his lower lip wibbling a bit. He just wanted to show that he had what it took to be a hero, that he could totally learn how to sword for when it might be needed. He didn't mean to actually hurt Warren; the Paladin had gone out of his way to help him, too! What was heroic about hurting someone like that?

 

He only half-heard the Highlander's comments and suggestions, lost in his own self-denigration as he was. The praise helped cheer him up a bit, since he was able to link that to Warren not being mad at him. Still pouting a bit at the end of the spiel, there was only one real thing Chacha needed to know for certain:

 

"Are... are ya sure yer okay?"

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Warren was slightly surprised that the lalafell was so concerned about the paladin's well-being. He didn't want to tease him or cause him to remain worried, though, and the poor fellow's worry was written plainly across his face.

 

"I'm fine. Really. What was it you said earlier? When all else fails, your armor will protect you?" He hopes jogging back Chachanji's family ideals would brighten his spirits. "I can't say I've made this armor, but I do tend to it. I'll set about making sure the boot's just fine before my next patrol, I assure you." There was a certain bit of pride that carried over into his words. Warren really did relish the time he got to spend over an anvil, and he always felt that working so closely with your equipment really did bond it to you.

 

"Next time I'll be ready for you!"

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