Post by Tarra on Jan 31, 2012 9:47:32 GMT -5
The armory was not a place T'rey had thought he would frequent. He was too much a pacifist at heart; not a pushover like some of those high-born lads who could not hold their own in a street brawl or even do a day's work without whining to death, but certainly not the sort who went looking for trouble to prove his worth in a fight either. He had always between the middling child - the one caught between two greater forces, looking to both with anticipation but never pulling so far as to take one's side over another. It had not been his way; he didn't like forcing absolutes on others, even as he had never liked having them forced on himself.
Recent events had changed all that, however. T'ern's death had had a harder impact on him than even he had known at first: and that was saying something, 'cause it had really hurt at first too. For the first time, he actually felt...anger, pure and unadulterated, at one of the two men he had looked up to most all his life. And for the first time he had found reason to commit more to something in life, instead of just drifting along. To take a side, perhaps (it certainly felt like that to his exceptionally centered way of seeing things); though he was quite sure that, given a chance, he would escape back to his old life at Ista. The first place he had known and was most familiar with; the best period of his life.
Which was he was here today, scoping amongst the weapons, testing the newest blades and trying out the balances of the long fighting knives. He certainly wasn't gong back to Ista any time soon, with things going as they were, and it was a good bet that before he managed to he'd be seeing more bloodshed. Probably participating in it too. He was skilled enough with simple weapons - could probably best the next person with a knife and drop a bird in mid-air with a sling. But the larger weapons usually baffled him, and a bow was all but useless in his hands. He'd have to learn, obviously; and the learning would come faster if he knew what it was he wanted to learn.
The soft gleam of a nearby leather sheath caught his eye; wandering over, he cast his gaze over the row of javelins beside it before reaching to draw light fingers over the hard new hide. A small blade, a dagger or a dirk most likely, and likely fresh-made if that polish was anything to go by. He had a long fighting knife already, and a series of smaller utility blades to go with it; these double-edged weapons were a new thing to him though, and he foresaw he would want to learn the javelins or the bow in the near future. Perhaps he could tap Aryna or one of the older riders, ask them to teach him. It would be a worthwhile venture as long as they stayed at South Run.
Recent events had changed all that, however. T'ern's death had had a harder impact on him than even he had known at first: and that was saying something, 'cause it had really hurt at first too. For the first time, he actually felt...anger, pure and unadulterated, at one of the two men he had looked up to most all his life. And for the first time he had found reason to commit more to something in life, instead of just drifting along. To take a side, perhaps (it certainly felt like that to his exceptionally centered way of seeing things); though he was quite sure that, given a chance, he would escape back to his old life at Ista. The first place he had known and was most familiar with; the best period of his life.
Which was he was here today, scoping amongst the weapons, testing the newest blades and trying out the balances of the long fighting knives. He certainly wasn't gong back to Ista any time soon, with things going as they were, and it was a good bet that before he managed to he'd be seeing more bloodshed. Probably participating in it too. He was skilled enough with simple weapons - could probably best the next person with a knife and drop a bird in mid-air with a sling. But the larger weapons usually baffled him, and a bow was all but useless in his hands. He'd have to learn, obviously; and the learning would come faster if he knew what it was he wanted to learn.
The soft gleam of a nearby leather sheath caught his eye; wandering over, he cast his gaze over the row of javelins beside it before reaching to draw light fingers over the hard new hide. A small blade, a dagger or a dirk most likely, and likely fresh-made if that polish was anything to go by. He had a long fighting knife already, and a series of smaller utility blades to go with it; these double-edged weapons were a new thing to him though, and he foresaw he would want to learn the javelins or the bow in the near future. Perhaps he could tap Aryna or one of the older riders, ask them to teach him. It would be a worthwhile venture as long as they stayed at South Run.