[Verus]

TS: Third Cycle, Fifth Brightening of Cryxatum. Era XIV PF.

It was one of the rhaghrnd brightenings off... if you could call it that. One these brightenings, the barbarian was usually found doing one of three things, teaching Surev, the child he had become the guardian of some time ago, having a drink and a game of dice at one of the many seedy taverns within the city, and the third, what he had chose to do this brightening, continue his training and hone his skills.

He was on the practice field in the Crimson Keep, stripped to the waist for all the good it did him with the fine white hairs that covered his torso and arms, wielding a single practice shortsword against a wooden dummy. Some who knew him might find it odd, during basic training he had opted to learn how to wield a pair of shortsword, but he still favored the one. There was something about having a hand free that he enjoyed.

He was covered in sweat under the mid-brightening suns, balanced lightly on the balls of his feet facing off against the dummy that he had been beating on for nearly half a candlemark now. He was thinking back to his time living in Nexus Prime in the West Warden's, the basic training he had received there, and further to his rescue patrol into the wilderness, a mission gone horribly awry with most of his patrol falling to a pack of Worgs when a figure from his past had guided him through the fight and brought him out alive.

He was going through the basics at the moment. Standing in front of the dummy, slashing and thrusting. He tended to go for the slashes more often, bringing his sword down and across to bounce of the side of the wooden neck, then spinning the blade in his hand and bringing it upwards slashing against the dummies side before bringing it back and lashing out in a thrust that connected with the dummy, mid torso, jarring his arm.

Falling back into his stance, he imagined the dummy reacting, lashing out with it's own slash towards his neck. Ducking under the imaginary slash, Temujin straightened up and raked his wooden blade across the dummies stomach in a horizontal slash, a death blow that would disembowel the enemy, but the barbarian continued on.

Stepping backwards out of the way of another imaginary slash, the rhaghrnd quickly stepped in and thrust against the dummies chest, letting his sword bounce back and spinning it around, bringing it down against the top of the dummies shoulder before retracting to his basic stance again.

He continued on, slashing and thrusting at the dummy, feinting and blocking, dodging out of the way of imaginary attacks. It was only the basics, but they were the fundamentals for everything that followed and he practiced them well. It was well over another half a candlemark before the rhaghnrd progressed to the next part of his exercises.