Master Donnelly Advises
The Festival Grounds, midmorning.
A clear, crisp fall morning with a gusty breeze carries on it the scent of woodsmoke. It's warm in the sun, and chilly in the shade - exactly what fall should be. The few trees in this area, mostly in the spectator section, are dressed in reds, oranges, yellows, and a few purples for the occasion, and the humidity has, if not entirely left, slacked off a good deal, at least. In other words, a fantastic morning to take the workout outside.
A number of groups have had that idea, and the Lancers are using the horse arena and a good bit of the archery range for their pursuits. Theo's done his share of horsework for the morning, and the more advanced Lancers are now doing more complex work. Instead, Master Zein has pulled him aside for some extra drills with the blade, and has been, as is his usual wont, working him hard but not unkindly.
Over by the spectator fence some distance away, among the townsfolk come to watch, is a simple-looking man with brown hair down to his shoulders, that he hasn't bothered to tie off. A simple shirt and trousers and an open sheepskin vest for warmth, unbleached and undyed are his attire. The shirt's sleeves are rolled up to the elbow, and worn boots might almost suggest a farmer taking a break from the market stall to watch the fun, except for the flash of amber in the sunlight where his right eye should be. Oh, and the longsword at his hip says he's no ordinary farmer fallen off the turnip truck.
Theo might have ditched his shirt in deference to how hard Master Zein is working him today, but the weather is just a touch too cold to really encourage him to do that. So his shirt is drenched in sweat and he is breathing a touch heavily. He dislikes sword-practice, but he knows it as a necessary evil so that he doesn't lose his skill with a bladed weapon. He just prefers his heavy mace.
He falls back from the swordmaster and wipes the sweat from his brow. His practice blade feels heavy in his hands and he looks at the older man for some sign of weakness - which he knows does not exist. He finally chuckles and motions for the other man to come at him. Hoping that the other man moving in will offer him an opening which does not currently exist.
Instead, the salt-and-pepper-haired man waves his free hand dismissively. "Enough, lad," he answers, authoritatively. "Put that aside and let's see what you can do with these." He turns away, putting his practice sword back into the small pile of wooden weapons he'd brought, in a rack some feet away. Instead, he retrieves a pair of hard wooden sticks, weighted on the end with a wooden ball, and tosses one to the Lancer.
"You aren't always going to get a choice about what weapon you want to use. Sometimes, your weapon won't do a thing to your opponent, and you'll have to switch to one that will. Best to carry both. Now, let's see what you've got."
Theo's eyes light with perhaps too much appreciation as the weaponmaster offers a change of weaponry. He sets aside the wooden sword gladly and picks up the 'mace'. He hefts it once or twice to get the weight of it and it's much more comfortable in his grasp than was the sword. It's not just a matter of ability with a weapon, it's confidence, and familiarity.
The young Lancer starts slow, a few motions that are rote attacks to test his opponent, and then falls into a comfortable testing pattern only to break it suddenly, by lobbing a low attack at Master Zein's knee. Joints are after all a good target for a mace.
The old armsmaster may have salt and pepper hair, but as Theo himself has previously observed, he hasn't lost a step. The pattern is just that, and he defends it almost lazily. When the Lancer breaks it to swing at his knee, there's a wooden mace there to greet it. He brings it up in a wide circle, then breaks that circle to lunge at Theo across his side. It's a quick attack, but one with an obvious weak point - and an opening. Dark eyes sparkle with both calculation and challenge as he makes the strike.
Theo is quick to react to the opening, but he's smart enough to know that the obvious opening is probably - very likely at least - a feint. However not taking advantage of it would be foolish. So he feints an attack at the opening he perceives, releasing the handle of his 'mace' with one hand at the last second so that he can strike with his left hand at another area entirely. His right carries the feint, ready to offer defense should the master swordsman have something entirely different up his sleeve.
A feint indeed it proves to be, and the opening vanishes, but the left fist connects with the man's face, and he staggers back a step, surprised at first and then chuckling mightily. "Well. I deserved that," he gets out, the wooden mace lowering and his hand automatically going to his cheek. "Clever of you. Taking the opening, but not committing to it. Good, your brains are still intact."
He surveys Theo's drenched state, thoughtfully. "I think that's enough for now." He pulls a waterskin off of his belt with his free hand and offers it to the Lancer. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
If there is anything Theo has come to learn about Master Zein, it's that everything he does is for a reason. What that reason is is not always clear.
The young Lancer might have scored a hit, but he's quick to pop back when he realizes that it actually landed. He's surprised that it did, and proud of himself for actually scoring against the swordmaster. He grins at the older man's complements, feeling a warm glow of accomplishment.
Nor does he argue when the other man offers to stop here. He's not lay-out done for the day, but he can feel the soft burn in his limbs that means he's worked hard. "Someone you'd like me to meet Master?" He offers curiously, following the other man at a comfortable pace and accepting the water. He takes a few short drinks so as to not make himself sick on the liquid, but even the small drinks are something that he's grateful for.
"One of my longtime students," Master Zein answers, watching intently as Theo takes a few, short drinks, and nods his approval. "I've been teaching him since he was younger than you." When Theo is ready, he takes the waterskin back and gestures in the direction of the spectator's fence.
Almost immediately, the figure in browns moves. Instead of vaulting the fence, though, as many might do, he climbs to the top and jumps off of it, positioning only one hand on the fencepost to steady himself as he does so. He trots over, and up close, it's much easier to see the man in more detail. The right side of this thirty-something man's face is a complete ruin - three furrows run down his face from temple to jawline, most of the rest of the right half of his face is melted away into a mask of scars. A leather cuff encases his left shoulder beneath the vest, padded but with enough straps and buckles that it's most likely for show, and other scars are visible on arms and hands. A quick look at Master Zein says that the armsmaster is watching the man move, very closely.
Still, the man flashes a mischievous, warm grin at the Master as he approaches and slows down. "Brightest of days, Master Zein," the man greets in a voice that is unexpectedly deep, and not the least bit out of breath, the traditional words marking him as most likely Daeusite. "This is your student? You work like a man who's got something on his mind. Dolan Donnelly." He offers a callused hand to Theo.
Theo offers the waterskin back when he's had enough to be rehydrated and looks toward where Master Zein motions. There's acknowledgement in his gaze as the man easily makes his way toward him. Dressed like a farmer or not, Theo can tell that the man is a warrior. One skilled in the art of moving his body in a directed way. Someone that could in all likelihood give him a run for his money in combat.
As the man draws closer though, Theo has to blink again, noticing the many scars that touch the man's body. His respect deepens instantly. This is not just any warrior. This is a man that has survived many, many battles and is still kicking to tell about it. In the warrior part of his own mind he categorizes the injuries, detailing in his own way their cause and effect, but he notices almost instantly that there is about as much opening in this mans gate as there is in Master Zein's.
Theo doesn't hesitate then to take his hand, offering a short bow and a somewhat rueful expression. "Master Donnelly, a pleasure to meet you. You don't miss much do you?" Missing eye or no.
Something about the man's movements draws a frown to Master Zein's face, but all he says is, "I'll go put up the weapons. Give me that." He holds his hand out for the wooden mace, and assuming he gets it, sets about gathering the other wooden weapons from their session. Interestingly, this almost at once takes him away from the pair.
Dolan, meanwhile, looks Theo up and down. "Know a thing or two about that," he offers more gently, still surveying the Lancer's stance. "But if you've got something eating you, it's a distraction, and Master Zein'll whoop you but good if you let yourself get distracted." That easy grin once again blooms across the mobile half of his features, and there's mischief in it. "Ask me how I know."
Theo doesn't hesitate to hand over the practice weapon. It's not his and he's not tied to it after all. Being unarmed always makes him feel mildly uncomfortable, but he doesn't make his way toward his own gear. The young Lancer scrubs a hand over his hair and offers a roughish, somewhat apologetic grin of his own. "I take it - since he mentioned that you were a student of his - that he's taken you down a peg or two?"
The young man rolls his shoulders easily, but takes a moment to eye the stranger before him. "You want to spar a bit?" He doesn't seem inclined to give away whatever is on his mind so easily.
"More like a handful," Dolan's laugh blooms as easily as his smile does. "Master Zein, you can leave the practice weapons, I'll get them when we leave," he calls over to the old man.
"No you won't, Dolan. You know better than that," comes the immediate response. "One for each of you, no more, and young Theo's to carry them back to the Temple when you're done. Orders are orders."
The look of open exasperation on Dolan's face is plain to read, but he just lets out a long sigh. "Yes, Master Zein." He starts over towards where the old man is gathering practice weapons, but Zein instead hands Theo back his wooden mace, and he gives Dolan a long look, then hands over a practice longsword. "Greatsword drills later," he warns, although the meaning behind the warning may not be immediately clear. Dolan seems to know what it means, for he just nods, and takes the practice blade, laying aside the weapon belt with the live steel on it.
Theo can't help but grin at Dolan's light-hearted smile. He seems easy-going enough, and Theo is glad of it. They walk over to the practice weapons and Theo takes up his wooden mace again, hefting the weapon and arching a dark eyebrow at Master Zein's instructions before nodding his head to show that he'd heard the directions. He'd make sure to bring the practice weapons back himself.
"You normally wield the Greatsword?" He asks curiously, backing away into the sparing space and waiting for Dolan patiently. It's anomalous since Dolan's weapon that he's laid aside is clearly not.
"Yeah. It's what I use for Guild work," Dolan answers, hefting the practice blade and stepping into position. "No need for it usually in the city, but only an idiot goes around in Alexandria wholly unarmed. That and, the healers don't like me wielding it at all, so I save it for when I really need it. There's all kinds of crazy shit running around inside these walls that most people don't know about. We think we got most of the werewolves."
With that, he settles into a ready stance that is not wholly unlike Master Zein's. "At your ready."
Theo falls into his own ready stance easily enough, mace held firmly in his hand as he seeks out a weakness in Dolan's defenses. He considers an attack to the man's 'blind' side, but he doubts with the false eye that it is actually blind. However, as with Master Zein, a perceived opening or an expected opening, is advantageous if taken properly.
Again Theo starts slow, testing Dolan with a few opening blows, but most of them tilted toward that 'blind' side. As though he's testing how good Dolan's sight to that side is. Then, a strong feint to that side, and a foot-sweep that he hopes will actually catch Dolan off-guard. "Werewolves?" He queries as he feints.
The paladin's estimate of Dolan as a warrior proves quite correct, and what is more, the man seems entirely unhampered on what would appear to be the blind side. His style is clearly taught by Master Zein - he meets all the drills as Theo knows them, but he seems to be waiting for something, the easy-going attitude shifting into something entirely different. The smile fades into focused concentration, the demeanor into something battle-hardened and utterly without quarter.
When Theo feints, he finds that the style differs from Zein's in one important respect. Where Zein relies on drills, on fighting a trained opponent, this man is ready for anything, including an unorthodox strike like a foot sweep. He seems to have been expecting the feint, for he neatly jumps the foot sweep and lands on his feet, striking first underhand and then overhand at Theo's flank and using his other hand apparently entirely for balance.
With Dolan having expected Theo's feint, the younger man is immediately on the defensive with the return strikes. He manages to block both - but barely - it is in fact a far nearer thing than he'd like to admit. He's also very impressed that Dolan can handle the sword so easily, but he realizes he shouldn't be given that the man usually wields a weapon nearly twice the size.
Theo's expression becomes one that is very intense as he realizes the differences between Master Zein and his current opponent. Master Zein has battle experience, but it is far in the past and teaching has occupied the man for many years. Dolan however is clearly someone who has seen fighting - recently. Forced into a more defensive posture, Theo finds himself a bit hard pressed, and he only distantly realizes that his query had gone unanswered.
GAME: Dolan rolls will: (18)+14: 32
Somehow, after a few minutes of being back on his heels, Theo will find that Dolan's strikes are slowing in frequency, just a little, and he allows a clear opening to pass him by in favor of returning to a more measured and even sparring session. The style is still unorthodox and goes beyond the simple drills, but he's slowing it, just a touch, allowing Theo to catch his breath and regain his footing. He does not allow the advantage, but he is controlled enough to allow the even flow of the spar to continue.
Theo isn't sure what to think of the fact that the other man is... not exactly 'playing' with him, but obviously testing him in some way. Dolan is controlled. Dolan is experienced. Theo finds himself respecting the other man even more than before, but also utterly frustrated by his inability to do better than this. He knew he wasn't as skilled as some of the more experienced warriors, there's always someone better, but it's humbling to find himself facing yet another one now. "You're very good." Theo says after a moment, when the flow of battle is more even.
Why isn't clear, but Dolan is definitely holding back, slowing himself down, maintaining the rhythm, using only one hand, the other for balance only. It's pretty obvious that this man could wipe the floor with Theo and is consciously choosing not to do so. "Been a while since I faced someone who wasn't actively - trying to kill me," he answers with a sudden grin. "Almost forgot for a second."
He pauses a moment, then intentionally leaves himself open, a move that is just a touch wild.
Theo laughs at Dolan's words, but the laugh isn't as joyful as it could have been. He's haunted - just for a moment - by dual thoughts. The thought of those that he's slain, and the fiend that wants him - and his brother - for some unknown purpose. He almost misses Dolan's opening but rather than take the opening he snorts at it, pointing to the too-wide opening and shaking his head. "You're not taking me seriously enough with an opening like _that_. I might not be trying to kill you, but that's practically insulting." He doesn't _sound_ insulted though, more teasing.
The focused seriousness that had set in in their spar has gone ragged around the edges and is in danger of vanishing entirely, and Dolan's laughter is real. "Guilty as charged." The chocolate-brown eye lights up with that laughter. "Good on you. A fiend or a monster won't leave an opening like that, or if they do, they're planning something really fucking awful." Another couple of strikes, but they're not the life-and-death things they were at the start.
Sweat is starting to bead on the man's brow, but he actually seems to be relaxing and enjoying himself.
Theo's smile vanishes with the word 'fiend', his green eyes darkening with more concentration than their friendly sparring deserves. He focuses for several long moments purely on the back and forth of comfortable sparring. He knows now though, that for Dolan he's just a warm-up, that he'll need more luck than anything to land a solid blow on the man. His skill simply isn't up to it.
The shift in demeanor is not lost on Dolan, who is trained to look for such things. He's hit a nerve, and he knows it in an instant. He lets the spar go for a minute or two more, then steps back, lowering the sword in a gesture of surrender. "Look, I'm sorry. What'd I say?"
The young Lancer pulls back as Dolan lowers his sword. The question however only reminds him of what's been on his mind too much recently. Theo sighs and lowers his practice mace. Suddenly the weapon seems too heavy. "No. I'm sorry." He lowers his gaze and shrugs. "You didn't say anything wrong, I've just... got this problem on my mind and I don't really know what to do about it. If there is anything _to_ be done about it."
He cracks a weary half-smile. "My brother will probably work it out, knowing him..."
Dolan almost immediately lowers the blade entirely, and rotates, not the right shoulder, but the left in its padded cuff, slowly and carefully. It's a momentary gesture, though, and he sets the point of the practice blade down into the soft dirt of the bailey, resting both hands on the pommel. "Problems rarely find answers when they're floating around in your head," he offers. "Want to talk about it?" Although the words are easy, something sharpens in the man's mien. Not the focus of a man fighting for his life, but one who is all ears - both for what is said, and what isn't.
Theo considers Dolan a moment, his the stance of a man uncertain of himself. Without thinking he offers silently to take the practice sword with his free hand. If they've finished practicing he doesn't want to accidentally leave Dolan with the weapon to deal with later. A small frown works itself across the Lancer's features. "I... I don't suppose you know anything about fiends?"
"As a matter of fact, I do." The easy smile fades from Dolan's features, the gaze sharpening still more. _Ah-ha._ He hands off the practice sword with a rueful sigh, considers a moment, then touches his right cheekbone with a sweaty, callused finger. "Lost this to one when I was young and stupid. Learned a thing or two since then. Maybe I can help."
The sword gets shifted so that it's tucked comfortably under Theo's arm and he holds both the practice weapons with ease. Dolan's words make Theo frown and he shifts his weight across his feet. He doesn't offer the sort of apology that others might, but rather an acknowledgement of the wound with a serious nod. "Are... fiends prone to taking an interest in mortals... long term? If someone were to garner that kind of attention I mean, could you reasonably expect that they'd get bored eventually and wander off to greener pastures?"
"No, it won't get bored and wander off, if that's what you're asking." Now Dolan's harlequin stare is direct, fully focused, and full of grim intention that isn't aimed at Theo. "Remember, fiends - devils and demons alike - don't die of old age like you and me. They've had literally thousands of years to perfect their bullshit, and they're more patient than you can imagine." Clearly, this man has spent time in rough quarters, from his frank attitude. "You know of one in the area harassing someone?" Oh, he's listening now.
Theo's shoulder's slump a little. Here he'd hoped that the fiend would eventually realize that his brother was protected and that he himself had no interest and would eventually... go away. Dolan squashed that tender thought so easily however and the young man wonders for the first time if Lheo will be able to figure out a way to turn the creature aside or destroy it. "My brother... He said that one seems to have an unhealthy interest in us. Him and I. I wouldn't know why. It's not as though I've fought any in my time, nor he. Are they terribly hard to kill?"
That harlequin stare from Dolan goes deep and is unwavering. "Kill it, or kick it off of Ea? Kicking it off of Ea can be done, but that just sends it back to its home plane. Killing it's a whole other matter, you've got to follow it to its home plane and kill it there, yeah?" Dolan tilts his head a little. "The good news is that once kicked off, creatures like that need help to get back. They can't just come back anytime they want to, otherwise we'd be flooded with the damned things. The bad news is that they tend to arrange such things for themselves, by suckering a cult of the foolish or the desperate into summoning them to this plane. Is that fiend your brother's talking about around right now?"
Theo's own frown deepens. Ideally, destroying the fiend permanently was desirable, but Dolan made it sound as though that wasn't lightly done, and he disliked the fact that if he did manage to kill it temporarily... well really that sounded like a good way to piss it off to him. "I guess I don't know for sure. I got the impression that it got... driven off by a friend of his." He should have asked more questions, but it Lheo had been so afraid and he hadn't known what to ask then. "Sounds to me like that'll just be a momentary solution though."
Lheo should be safe though... right? The azata wouldn't let something happen to his twin. At least... that's what Theo thought.
"It should give you some time." Dolan watches Theo closely, although he himself hasn't moved from where he stood. "Summoning doesn't happen by chance, and it needs stuff that's pretty expensive and hard to get. I ain't no expert in arcane magic, but I've come across a summoning circle or two. Takes a pretty knowledgeable wizard to pull it off, and most of them aren't that stupid." He shuts up a minute, watching Theo. "You said you think it's after you and your brother both? How'd he know one, anyway? They ain't always easy to spot."
Time, well... Theo would take it. Every second that he could get to put into practice with a blade, a mace, a bow. Whatever weapon could and would kill the damned thing once and for all. He felt his eyes harden with determination. Him and Lheo would figure it out. One way or another. They had time. Surely.
Dolan's question makes his lips quirk and he doesn't know it but there's pride in his eyes. "My brother's a wizard, and a damned fine one. Better with a spell than I am with a mace truth be told." His eyes shine with good will. "Truth is the fiend is probably more interested in him than in me. Gods know that he got the smarts between the two of us. Don't tell him I said that though." A flash of a smile.
That smile is not returned, and Dolan now regards Theo very, very intently. "Theo. Listen to me carefully," he intones seriously. "Do you think it is possible that your brother summoned that fiend? You need to figure out how it got to Ea in the first place, if you don't want it to come back. Remember, demons lie. They deceive. Their goal is to corrupt mortals, and take their souls to make more demons."
He shifts a little on his feet, crossing his arms. "If you want to protect your brother, the first thing you've got to do is figure out whether it's already got its hooks in him or not. If he did summon it, why? That's illegal in Alexandria, and is why the ward exists." A heavy sigh. "Don't go beating on him, though. Remember that this is what they do, and people who think they ain't got no other options are likely to do something stupid, or desperate, yeah?"
Theo shakes his head at Dolan, his face set. He knows that Lheo _did_ summon the fiend, but it'd been an accident. Not on purpose. The fiend had no real pull on Lheo. Lheo wouldn't lie to him about that, not after everything. "My brother might be a wizard, but he's not the sort that'd summon something like that on purpose."
His voice is slightly reassuring, he's sure as hell not telling this stranger that Lheo had done so on accident. "Don't worry, I've got his back Master Donnelly. He knows that, and Serriel has mine. If you know anything particular about fiends though... I'd appreciate a run-down some day you have time - and not great-sword practice later."
For the first time, the weight of that stare is directed at Theo, but it relaxes presently, and Dolan just nods. "Sounds to me like you trust your brother pretty well. Make sure he knows that, and that he ain't got to go this alone. Don't try to take on one of these things alone, no matter how small they are, and don't let him try to, neither, yeah? That's how this happened," he taps his right cheekbone meaningfully. "I was trying to make sure that demon ain't find my girl."
Theo holds up well under the weight of Dolan's intense stare. Maybe he has things to hide, but he won't fold this easily. For Lheo's sake, he doesn't dare. "I will." He says instead firmly. He needs to have a talk with Lheo. Let his twin know that he's not alone - again - and find out exactly how deep the shit they're in is. He meets Dolan's gaze steadily. "Is it dead?"
"Dead? Probably not, but most likely it's in a bit of a pickle and won't pester you for a while." His message delivered, Dolan drops his hand to his side. "Any notion what sort of fiend it is? If your brother can tell you what it looked like, chances are I can find out what it can do, and maybe how to counter it." That odd focus lingers around the edges, but it is beginning to fade back into the easygoing man he'd first met. "If you've got any questions, or you need to know something, Master Zein can find me. If it comes back, and I can take it out, I will, yeah?"
Theo hesitates then shrugs. "I need to talk to him and find out for sure." He looks at the practice weapons. "In fact, I think I'll do just that. And if we need a hand... I'll let you know." He smiles sincerely at Dolan. "I appreciate the offer Master Donnelly."
That earns Theo another long stare from Dolan, but he nods at length and walks over to pick up his weapon belt. The discussion is quite clearly over, as is the sparring session, so he slips the belt back on and re-fastens the buckle, then looks back up. "Holy Knight's blessing go with you, Theo, yeah?" The focused and intimidating demeanor has almost entirely slipped away.
The young Lancer spares a smile to Dolan. "Theo." He agrees easily enough and offers a lazy salute to the other man. "May your battles be blessed and your enemies fall to your blade Master Donnelly." He says seriously, before he heads toward the area where the practice weapons are kept with purposeful steps.
-End