Evec Baudelaire, a thirst for knowledge.
-
_"Stand upright, Evec. Your left side is open." Evecard Baudelaire's instructor, Kalen, stated clearly and calmly. The young man swallows lightly, biting his lip and switching positions, shifting his weight a bit towards the left, sword held in both hands facing his tutor. "Much better – Now what about your footwork?" Kalen smiles, holding his Katana towards the dark haired student.
Evec never was, and still isn't, able to keep up with Kalen's movements and he knows it. "Uh, Kale-" Before he has time to finish, his tutor charges, gripping his sword and digging his feet into the smooth wooden floor of the Peltarchian Fighter's Academy battle room.
His eyes flicker over Kalen's sword, quickly moving his own to deflect the first downward thrust, a -shink- echoes throughout the room at the clash. Gritting his teeth, Evec pushes back against his teacher's firm grip. His master grins, his deep brown eyes watching the pupil's every movement.
A small commotion rises among the other fighters, who turn heads to watch Evec duel his trainer. "Say, the kid's at it again, eh?" One chuckles and sets his axe aside, grinning and leaning on his combat dummy, watching the struggle between the two. Another watches silently, smiling faintly at the action.
"Your footwork, Evec – Always with the footwork!" Kalen exclaims, before sliding his Katana against the opposed longsword, freeing the edge and ducking the next blow, swinging his right leg, aiming for Evec's in a familiar attempt to knock the young man down.
Evec never was, and still isn't, able to keep up with Kalen's movements… and as previously stated, he knows it. "No! Gah!" He winces, a -thud- is heard as his mentor's trip hit. Breathing, panting and puffing, lying back flat on the floor, the ruckas and interest that was peeked in the other fighter's diminishes. Most smirk, others shake there heads and go back to there training. Kalen sheaths his katana, extending a hand downward to help Evecard back to his feet, echoing his previous statement. "Always with the footwork…"
Evec just sighs, pulling himself up with the aid of his master. "I know, sir. I'll work on it." Kalen chuckles, before smiling and patting him on the back. "This isn't one of your quill-pens, Evec. This isn't some novel you're trying to write. This is combat. You need this."
Shaking his head, with a chuckle of his own, Evec replies: "I 'need' both, sir Kalen." His mentor sighs, then rolls his eyes, yet still smiling. "Naw, what you need right now is a break. Take the rest of the day's session off. See you tomarrow, Ev." The student, still breathing rather heavily, nods, relieved.
After washing up, outside, Evecard pulls a shirt on and pushes his wet hair back. Walking down the street, pondering the day's training. Peltarchian fighter's academy was never meant to be easy. It's not like his father back in Waterdeep would teach him how to fight, how to survive. Which is why he left in the first place; A rut is the worse place to be, and I'll tell you why.
When Evec lived with his father, some two or three years ago, back in Waterdeep, he felt… crunched up. Boxed in. "Yes that's it." He states absently, eyes distant and ponderous, he now sits in the commons, thinking hard about his past. That was why he travelled to Narfell in the first place, to end this 'box' feeling and learn new things. A perfect example of his learning thirst, dear reader, would be combat, as you clearly saw previously in the fighter's academy.
Although fighting most certainly isn't everything, oh no, not to him. Despite him practicing combat and wizardy, his passion was information. Knowledge, yes. Sighing contently, folding his arms behind his head, he pushes himself off the bench with a nod to a few commoners. He heads back to his Peltarchian Mermaid inn room for a good night's rest and another day on the morrow._
–-----------------------
Account Name: baude1
Character Name: Evec Baudelaire
-
Reviewed - XP Pending.
