Recruit Trainining with Colonel Mord Cabro
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The trainees still got tasked with dayly duties and were then sent out on Patrols. Mord observed and did not step in unless it was needed. After every session a short report was made by trainees and Mord would point out where things may have gone better and different uses for the troops in a given situtaion. Most patrols came back soaked and blody but they always came back.
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Mord throws a quick salute to Dwin Aye ser. Tis time ta blood them the right way.
He gets together with Loc and begins laying out the trainning sessions Within a day new orders are posted and the trainees quickly gather to read through them. An air of relief, excitement and eagerness runs through the barracks. Whipers of "Its about time…..enough with dummies and rocks...." can be heard
Rotating groups are listed so that the recruits will get used to working with a variety of others. Small strike forces are formed, broken down into distance and close in fighting. Positions shifted so all could work on different fighting techiniques. Mord and Loc went along and observed and set up the scenarios as to how each encounter would be handled. Scouts reported in and quick plans made and carried out. Shouts could be heard through the wood as the trainees took to the field.
Battlefield healing is drummed into all the recruits on their own cut and bruised bodies when needed. Healers were held back, sometimes to their frustration, but the sargeants were adamant. A dead healer hurts more then emselves!! was heard often.
*And so the recruits moved on, learning the new defenses in and out so that they could navigate them with their eyes closed. They learned to trust and await their scouts. They learned to use cover and attack in unison and retreat that way also. * Bleed em lads!! became the command for the distance fighters and often the enemy never made it within striking distance, the point being made.
((Please try and get together in game in groups and work on this. When I am in I will try and look for others and drag them to the wood. Carry on))
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Following Dwin's instructions, Corana's cold, stiff expression shifts ever so slightly, and a crooked grin spreads across her lips for just a moment, the look in her eyes making it clear that she won't need to be asked twice.
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Dwin observes Mord and his crew going through some training exercises in the courtyard.
Ok, folks…. the time for 'safe' trainin is over.
We got goblins out there that think they are gettin smart. They also think they are getting better weaponry.
I'd like Mord to take you folks out to the Rawlins and show these greenskins that they are wrong.. that they are still stupid little farks.
Mord, lets get these folks patrollin the forest together. Consider every goblin you see a combat dummy or an archery target.
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Rhyndar grunts, his armor and axe caked over with mud. He takes the full advantage of the time given, meticulously cleaning his equipment. After cleaning up, he wanders off to grab a bite to eat. He has a bit of the issued rations, throwing them aside and eating some prepared meats from his own pack. After finishing his meal, he suits up and heads off for the quarry, muttering.
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*Mord eyes Corana thoughtfully as she jogs out the barracks in full kit with the other trainees. He eyes Kresha as she moves out with the others. So many new faces. He was not sure if Dwin's speech or the tales from Jyiid was driving people to sign up. He shrugs slightly then moves out in front of the large group of trainees. He once agaoin hobbled them in teams and worked on attacks and retreats in through the mud pit and up the hill. Back and force with weited and padded weapons as the day grew long. None made it through the long day without falling several times due to untilmely movement by their teammates or the thick mud. Mord and Loc moved through their ranks with truntions directing form and movement. His Voce barked out over the clatter of wepons and the panting and grunts of the trainees. As mud soaked into their armor, recruits moved slower only to be driven on by the sargeants words and staves.
Finally there was break for a meal as Mord and Loc moved through the exhausted trainees. * Two hours ta clean yer armor and weapons and eat then to the quarry and the walls. Ye know the routine. I will see ye at the walls. He walks off talking quietly with Loc
((Any recruit is encouraged to post here. Come on guys, I will have Mord make ye regret yer silence :twisted: ))
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Following the battle, Corana spends some time in the Great Hall with the Chancellor, then she joins the recruits at the stone quarry. After muttering a short prayer, she proceeds to start lifting the rocks and loading the carts with a strength and endurance of a man less than half her age.
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There is a hush from all the trainees and spectators and Mord stops in midsentence in his low talking to the healer. All that can be heard is the Corana's havy breathing and the slow drip of mud from the slaad's unmoving claws. Mord shakes himself and clears his throat. He looks about and barks suddenly at the trainees Get on with ye, the quarry be still and there are tons of rock ta move to the northern road.
When they hesitate he lashes out at a nearby trainning dummy, a heavy blow with the back of his guantleted fist that cracks loudly in the silence. He snarls. Move it!!! The last three ta the north hill gets latrine duty fer the next week!! With a clatter of armor the muddy and sweaty trainees run for the north gate
Mord stands alone, but for other officers present. His eyes flick from the dead slaad to Corana, who is still healing herself. * As he starts to speak the chancellor moves to him and talks quietly in his ear, his eyes darting to Corana once, then the Chancellor moves to the great hall.
Mords lips compress a moment then thin out into a flat smile. He moves to Corana and looks her over Feelin all better now eh? See tha chancellor in the main hall then ye best catch up ta yer fellow trainees. He spins away and heads to the north gate before she can answer. As he strides off he calls to Elyl Get that mess cleaned up Recruit.
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_As the Slaad lunges for her, Corana sidesteps adequately, and delivers several crushing blows in a row to its head and abdomen with the training stick, a shower of magical sparks flying into the air with each strike. In the midst of the assault, the Slaad lets loose several crunching strikes with its fists, finishing the flurry by spitting a vile clump of disease-ridden mucous into the visor of Corana's helm. Reeling from that attack, Corana lets loose of the training stick with one hand, and with a cry of anguish matched only by the wail of a banshee, she grabs hold of the Slaad's wrist, negative energy arcing between the two. With a roar, the Slaad falls to the earth in the mud pit, twitching briefly before expiring.
With that, Corana retreats to the edge of the pit, where she removes her helm and proceeds to vomit from the effects of the mucous before munching on some herbs and healing herself back to her normal state._
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As the slaad begins to move Mord flicks his eyes over the group of trainees. Besk, Varian and his newest trainee, Rhyndar, are scattered through with the rest. He catches Besks eyes and gestures for him to move the others quickly back then turns to observe. He sees the healer approaching and waves him over and begins to whisper to him, keeping an eye on the pit
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(( we'll try to play the rest of this out ig
))
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Mord watches the trainees shuffle quickly back and then lean forward, mesmarized. Catching Carona's eyes he speaks softly into the silence after the Slaads' scream, * Ye ready then "lass"? Without losing eye contact or awaiting a reply he flicks his hand at the Sladd. Its surprisingly first quick step flings a huge glob of slime and mud at Carona's head and upper body.
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_The gates are flung open as a beast storms out into the training yard. The thing stands over 7 feet tall, red scaly hide and a wide frog like head…a slaad by the look of it. The creature has obviously been transmuted to be even more muscle laden than one might imagine for a creature that size. Once it catches sight of Corana and the stick in her hand, the thing croaks out something like a laugh. It storms down into the opposite side of the mud pit, standing firm as if it were nothing more than a puddle.
The training yard goes silent. Everyone left in the yard look on in awe, except for mord who appears not the least bit surprised. Corana in her full plate, a warped stick in hand facing ... Edmund, the largest red slaad any of them have seen.
It stares at Corana for a time in total silence as if gaging her, sizing her up. Then suddenly, the thing lets loose a horrible roar and bashes its huge fists together. The quiet settles over once more, the thing breathing faster now with excitement, anticipating a slaughter. It waits for mord's order..._
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Without turning toward the source of the noise, Corana calls out a series of incanted prayers and steps into the muddy ring…
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A pit has worked its way into the sparring area and is a gelatenous slick of mud at this point, from the constant rain and numbers of new trainees. Mord eyes Corona and smiles thinly as she leans agains the wall. He once again hands her the twisted branch and grunts as he turns back to the others. A moment and we will have yer dummy set to test yer mettle.
Mord eyes the trainees and barks out instructions as they spar in dual combat and in small groups. Heaving back and forth through the mud and blood. The sun breaks apart the clouds and beats down on the straining trainess raising a mist in the air. Mord's shouts can be heard over the clashing of staves and the panting grunts of the trainees. An hour passes, the sun baking down, and Mord calls a halt after three trainees collapse to the sodden ground.
Heavy thumping is heard from the direction of the great hall and Mord nods then barks Out of the pit lads, lets see if the "lass" has what it takes to join the Militia!! He turns expectantly to Corona as the heavy steps approach Ready ta show us what ye have in ye ? He gestures to the muddy pit
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Rumor has it that Dwin is already running a bit of a gambling venture related to this sparring match. No one is quite sure that the odds are, but Dwin, as usual, stands to make some coin off the books.
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Calendel, busy working within Friar Freds is paid a visit by the Chancellor.
A farmer seeking some care overhears the Chancellor say "could get ugly, will need you at the sparring" and then proceeds to make his way back to the Town Hall. Calendel is see stocking his pack with some extra balms from the shelf shortly thereafter.
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A day after destroying the combat dummy, Corana returns through the north gate, carrying a frother's head by the hair in one hand, and her greataxe in the other. She deposits the head in the trash in front of the Boarshead, and then strolls into the training grounds. She stands there against the wall, apparently waiting for instructions.
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The chancellor wanders by with a book in hand, reading as he goes. He stops briefly to eye the mess, then looks to mord thoughtfully a moment. He says almost absently as he passes mord, turning his attention back to his book:
I'll lend a hand with sparring on the morrow. Give Corana the staff again. If she bothers to show, I'll send a proper sparring partner.
The chancellor pads away back to the hall, eyes fixed on the pages of his book.
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Dwin watches the new "recruit" and smirks. He comments to Plato….
Well, Mord's got his hands full with this one…
That bein said, I dont care if she's gettin' anvil rides from Lucid or not.. She aint gettin' any special treatment... not when we got so much goin' on...
Keep an eye on this for me, Plato.
