Ofri was bored. She was tired of wandering the halls or hanging out in the kitchen or watching bigger and stronger people do whatever it was bigger and stronger people did. They had been running and swinging at each other all day and frankly it had gotten boring to watch after a while. There was simply too many ugly noises, so once the training ground wasn’t occupied by duels Ofri walked into the center with her coin collar around her neck. She had left her shoes by the edges and dropped her satchel next to them.
The ground was dusty and hard from so many feet pounding it down then scraping it up. She took her time to pick up a small handful of the dust and rub it between her hands before tapping her feet to a beat no one else could hear. Ofri began humming the melody and rose her dusty hands over her head to clap once, twice, and a third time before she began to spring into leaps and twirls. Rather than letting her song be barely a whisper to only her ears she let her magic carry it further around the pitch. It didn’t carry into the house or the grounds beyond the dust, but hopefully it would attract other people who wanted to dance instead of fight.
Having finished in the library for the day, and having retrieved her sword from her room, Alice moved towards the training grounds with her usual purpose and enthusiasm. She enjoyed her swordplay, and she enjoyed being able to practice it as often as she did at Amora’s estate. At home, she might go a whole week only getting to practice once, after all. Which made the sounds of some unknown and over-loud melody coming from inside the grounds all the more unusual, and all the more annoying for it. She pushed open the last door and saw Ofri, bored and alone. Instead of practicing however, she was...dancing?
“You seem to be lost. This is the training grounds...for training. I’m sure you would find the garden a more suitable place to practice your dancing.” She frowned as she approached the woman, having called out as soon as she was sure she was within earshot. It was strange how the melody did not seem to grow louder as she got closer...strange.
Rather than respond to the confused woman, who perhaps didn’t quite understand commoner culture, Ofri continued to spin, leap, and flourish. When she finished her song she dropped into a curtsy in front of the noble and rose with one corner of her lip twitched up into a crooked smile. The music had completely dropped once her head was bowed in respect.
“I am training. I finally landed on my feet rather than on my ass in the middle, but I suppose you missed it.”
Alice wrinkled her nose at the crass address the woman gave, despite her adequate dancing display. She had seen more impressive dances at court, where the music was more formal and the balls more civilised, but Ofri’s display did have a certain spirit to it, if nothing else. “I mean, I did not miss you landing on your feet, but that still does not answer my question. Why here and not outside? This place is meant for combat, not for idle amusement.”
“There are better acoustics in here. Outside is… There are too many interfering winds. It’s easier to stay here when the only wind is controlled by me.” Ofri was on her feet again, actually on her toes, and idly dancing around as she spoke. Her movements didn’t seem to interfere with her breath at all; she still spoke clearly no matter how quickly she spun.
“And you say this like I couldn’t bring these skills to a fight. I may not have the huge pointy thing that you do, but I do have my own,” she stopped spinning and slid her hands down her sides with a wiggle of her hips. A moment later two darts shot out from her corset and into the wall behind Alice. Her aim was definitely wide, as if she didn’t trust herself to get much closer to the woman without also risking hitting her. “Methods to surviving a fight.”
There was a half-step when the daggers slipped out from the dress, just quick enough to turn her body sideways and face Ofri side-on as the needles shot far from the target. Her frown grew more serious for a moment, her hand resting on the handle of her blade as she let Ofri finish speaking. “That trick will work exactly once in a fight. It offers you no real, reliable way to dent armour, or a shield, and you’ll have to be very precise not to just hit bone. From here, I could kill you in a step.” She pondered for a moment, glancing at Ofri’s hip. “Where is your weapon? No shortsword, or even a dagger? Are you just ignoring the existence of Templars? Are you hoping and praying that people will not be wearing helmets? At this rate, you’d be killed by a peasant with a broom if they felt like it.”
“You could, but I’m cute.” Ofri giggled then sighed and rested on the balls of her feet rather than her toes. Her lips didn’t move, but her voice snuck behind Alice’s ear and hissed “behind you.” Assuming Alice moved to the sound, Ofri would send out two more darts, but this time drive them into the ground by Alice’s feet. “It doesn’t have to work once. I can keep doing this for a very long time. I have tricks here and there. I don’t see why someone in a full suit of armor would come for me. Like you said, I look like a peasant could end me on a whim.”
Ofri yawned and stretched before jumping back onto her toes and smiling. “Templars would be a problem, I suppose, but then you’re there, right? And Marcus. And a bunch of other people. If a Templar is coming for us a lot of us would be in a bind.”
Alice did not move at the sound of the voice on the wind. She had heard Ofri’s voice on the wind previously, and had basically figured out that her magic let her carry things over distance; her voice, these needles, and perhaps more besides. She observed the needles hit the ground in front of her feet and she sighed. “An armoured target is more likely to deal with an easy-to-kill target if they can. You also have at least some magic, which will further exacerbate your targetability.” In a single fluid motion, Alice drew her sword and waited; observing Ofri hop backwards on her toes. The woman liked to dance, well; perhaps it was time to test her footwork.
The Noblewoman surged forward, sword point low as she stabbed its tip into the ground between the dancer’s feet. “As for templars, Marcus and I will not be able to defend every defanged mage. If you think your looks will save you; contemplate the fate of the rabbit, or the lamb.” She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in for a couple of seconds before shouting. “Move!” With a flourish, Alice brought the sword up from the ground and around her body, before moving the tip towards Ofri. She would either stop the tip an inch from the serving girl’s throat, or she would allow the woman to dodge. It was hardly the quickest thrust, but it was enough to get her point across
The sure signs of an argument lured Dean to the training grounds. The days at the Manor had proven to be far quieter than Dean thought they’d be, and he had spent his time with little to do. As little as he liked to admit it, he was glad when he heard the first of the bickering, signaling at least something of interest to come. The scene playing out before him involved a pair of his new companions, and not on the most amicable terms. Dean observed at first as the two fought, and traded insights. One seemed brash, the other almost a reflection of himself. He hadn't thought it would be necessary to react, the women didn't seem interested in harming one another after all, but as the sparring continued moods soured, and suddenly Dean wasn't sure anymore.
Surging forward as he noticed Alice starting her stride, Dean reached for the buckler slung on his back and gripped the sword at his hip. Putting the shield firmly in the path of Alice’s swing Dean prepared himself for the impact. “A lucky thing for the Lamb and the rabbit that our group holds more than just the likes of you and Marcus then. Plenty of help for those in need.”
Of course she got herself into a stickier situation. Of course. It was easy to stumble back when the blade was between her big toes, but the swing almost caught her off guard. Without the flourish and the verbal warning she might have had to worry about her neck. Instead she dropped onto her back, her legs folded beneath her as Alice swung above her. And then, of course, there was a man between her and Alice.
Ofri looked up from her prone position to see Dean between her and Alice with his shield catching her blade. She started giggling and bounced back onto her feet behind Dean. She threw her arms around his neck and got onto her toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “My hero! The lion to save the lamb, how perfect!” After a moment she slid back to give the man his space. Ofri took this moment to give Alice the same cocksure smile she had provided before. “See? I think I’ll be fine.”
Alice managed to see the approaching Dean in her peripheral, so her grip loosened slightly as her sword collided with the buckler, so as to lessen the reverberation shooting up her arm. Seeing the trite display between the two had the noble rolling her eyes, but she saw a brief opportunity in front of her. Stepping back, she glanced Dean up and down, noting every flaw in his stance, every misstep and every unbalancing lean. “You think this one will save you? That is so misguided it is almost cute. You may see a Lion, but I see a boy whose only weapons are good intentions and a shield held too tightly.” She lifted her weapon up, getting into a comfortable side-on stance. “I tell you what boy, if you can stop me from reaching her in three moves, I will give you my sword. Then we shall see if an unprotected dancer is safe on the battlefield.”
Dean backed away as Alice made her offer, he smiled wide in jest as Ofri stood back. “Good intentions? Holding my shield too tightly? Harsh criticism from a woman I barely know. As far as your offer extends though, well if Ofri is willing to put herself on the line I'm willing to test myself.”
Ofri shrugged and dusted off her hands against her skirt. She smiled at Alice and ducked into another curtsy again. “I’ll place my faith in him. After all, if you actually touch me we have enough healers to put me back together.” A moment passed before she reached to gently squeeze Dean’s shoulder. “Nooot that we’ll need one, right?”
Dean got a true smile from Ofri before she took a few steps back. Should Dean simply fold in the first strike Ofri felt confident she could get some dust into Alice’s eyes and run the hell away.
Alice looked at the two and shook her head, almost dumbstruck by the casualness that they approached this strange courtship ritual. “En garde, then.” With that, Alice swung her blade wide and from the right, a powerful blow on his shield hand to test how he’d deal with a direct hit. With such a tightly gripped shield, it would surely hurt, if nothing else. Her footwork had her at a reasonable distance, using her swords length advantage and leveraging it against his shorter weapon. With her free hand, she simply waited; using it to balance and seeing how he reacted.
With the challenge accepted and Alice springing into immediate action Dean was left with little action than to turn on the defensive. Bringing his shield into the path of Alice’s swing once more Dean took the brunt of her strike with the buckler, and cringed as the shock sprang up his arm. Recovering as quickly as he could, he tried to move closer cutting the distance between them, and reducing the use of her blade. As he neared in, he decided to throw his elbow to her chin attempting to catch her off guard.
Alice was glad to see that Dean had the sense and wherewithal to block her blow, although he did it poorly, indeed. His stance was sloppy when he took the blow, taking the entire force of it as opposed to letting it slide off the shield’s length and deflecting it. Multiple blows like that would have him with a dead arm in a minute, not that the boy was intent to let the fight last that long. He tried to go on the offensive, moving inside her circle of range and trying to close the distance. It was an admirable attempt, if nothing else. She saw the elbow moving to her face and with the free hand, she caught the clumsy blow mid-flight. “And like that, we are done.” With a grip on his elbow, Alice stepped one leg forward, slipping it beyond and behind Dean’s; before gently pushing him backwards. Dean would have no choice but to stumble over her waiting leg, tripping him onto the floor. With no hesitation, Alice would then move forward to Ofri in a blink, raising the sword and...moving to bop her on the forehead with the hilt. “Lamb, with a side of good intentions.”
Ofri was quick to try and help Dean, but then had to stumble back as he fell. She looked up to protest Alice’s actions, and instead found the hilt of a sword on her noggin. The young woman wrinkled her nose up at Alice and huffed. She didn’t like being wrong.
“Then I’ll prove you wrong later on. I assume both of us will, at some point.” Ofri resisted the urge to stomp her foot in the dust. She took a deep breath and calmly walked out of the room, stopping only to slip her shoes back on and sling her satchel over her shoulder. One foot was out the door before she remembered to collect her darts and needles. A moment later her voice was again slowly flowing through the manor as she sashayed down the corridor to a new song.
Dean laid quietly on the ground after being tripped. He sighed lightly observing Alice and Ofri close out their discussion. “I guess that's just how these things play out then.” he climbed to his feet and brushed the trace remains of dirt from his pants. “Well fought Alice, you'll have to show me that trick someday.”
Alice sighs as she observes Ofri storm off. It was disappointing to see the woman leave without actually grasping the point of Alice’s display. She had wanted to offer at least
to the tavern girl. Basics on how to use a stiletto, or how to use a club, or just anything that might keep her alive. As it was, she seemed like such a frailty amongst their group that it left the noblewoman concerned. Dean, at least, provided some grounds for learning and improvement. He was at least willing to learn.
Turning to approach Dean, Alice sheathed her sword and walked around the young man, observing him like a butcher would observe livestock. “I will happily show you that and more, but let’s start with the basics, shall we? You hold that shield too tightly, your footwork is sloppy, and you started a fight without even drawing your sword. If you loosen your grip on the shield, you’ll be able to move it better; parry blows instead of just running into them. You should have your feet in a line with your shoulders, it’ll help you move and react quicker. Finally, don’t
start a fight without your weapon drawn. Even if you never intend to kill someone with it, you can’t well stop an enemy’s dagger with hopes and dreams.” She finished circling Dean, stopping to glance into the man’s eyes. “Practice those things, and seek out Marcus. He will also be able to help you with training; and he seems more likely to teach you a variety of skills. I for one do not use a shield much, he might enlighten you further. Understood?”
Standing as still as possible Dean took in all that the ‘advice’ that Alice listed out. The list was long and Dean got the distinct sense that helpful as it was, Alice didn't exactly do it from the kindness of her heart, but more as a mechanical response from her noticing all the mistakes he had made. Regardless he smiled as best he could, and pushed what ever boiling irritation he could down. “Solid advice I’m sure. Guess that’s what I get from going in a bit too cocksure.” he raised an arm behind his head to scratch the back of his neck. “You're pretty intense, aren't you?”
Alice looked over Dean, taking in the strange tension in his ‘thanks’. She recognised a little of it as indignation; she’d seen that from men she’d duelled many times in the past. There was a little something more though. Something worth keeping an eye on. “You may call me what you like, I call myself efficient. If you are to be my travelling companion for a time, and if you are to keep our fellows alive, it is best that I help you improve, no?” She observed him one last time, before looking towards the exit that Ofri had so quickly scarpered through. “You, at least, have merits outside of a pretty face and a chirpy disposition. She might actually need a lion some day soon, and lions do best when they have claws.” She glanced in the direction of the open window, taking in the rough time at a glance of the sun’s position. “I have other things to attend to, are we done?”
“Efficient is a fair word as well. In fact I almost prefer it.” he said with a light chuckle. His eyes measured the woman before him as they probably should have before starting their bout. She carried herself proudly, almost as if she were on display at all times, even with peasants like Dean that had met some precious few there would be no doubt Alice was some kind of nobility. Dean shrugged as Alice delivered what he perceived as a compliment. “I think it's important to remember we all have merits outside of even our ability in combat. Claws are useful tools, no argument here, but they're terrible at more delicate tasks.” he followed her glance first towards the window, and then tracked back to the exit. “And as far as your other matters, after seeing you move I'm sure I couldn't stop you if I tried… though I might prefer joining you on your way, if I won't be a nuisance?”
“You may join me if you wish. I’m going to the stables to attend to Philip. He isn’t used to the environment, so if he doesn’t see a familiar face daily he might become skittish.” She turned on her heels and made towards the exit, not waiting for Dean as she began to think about the rest of the upcoming day. Once they were outside, she broke her silence to begin plying the boy with questions. “You come from Renalta, yes? Tell me what it was like growing up in this country.”
Dean mulled the question for some seconds, an awkward silence falling between them. He wondered if there was some insightful answer he could provide, but to him Renalta was a simple place with kind people and ideals to strive for. “In truth? Probably far quieter than a nation at War with itself had any right to be. My village was left untouched, and the people were mostly at peace through out. It took plenty of work every day to keep it that way, but I consider myself lucky despite that.” Dean followed close at Alice’s heels, giving him an unsettling sensation in the back of his mind. He quickened his pace to join her side. “What of you? Liverian I'd say, though not from a village. What was it like living on the other side of the border?”
She pondered his answer briefly, wondering how far his village might have been from the family she did not know, before reflecting on her own answer. “I did not know anything else but Liveria. My father was kind to me, as was my mother until the end. I was privileged enough to live in luxury, but I saw enough in the war to know that luxury was not enough. It is perhaps why I am so, how did you put it, ‘intense’?”
Mention of his previous comment was enough to bring him out of his own thoughts of home, and everything that place now represented. “I'm sorry for your loss Alice.” he tried his best to manage a sympathetic face “I hope you didn't take that as an insult. Without intensity wars would never be won. It's as good a trait to have as any others I could think of.” The pieces started to fall into place as Alice spoke, and he couldn't help but respect what he saw. “Privilege and luxury, eh? Yet neither of those explain your formidable skill, or why someone in such a position would lend themselves to a goal such as Amora has suggested. Are you a thrill seeker, or is there something more?”
Alice offered Dean a little wry smile as he got apologetic. It was amusing to see him backpedal. “There is no offence to be had. As for why I’m here, I suppose I want what most people want; a strong Renalta. It would provide a strong trading partner to my home land, and if I were a direct component of the Renaltan resurrection then my place in Liverian history would be assured. I would be a hero of two countries, perhaps even a locus for the eventual reunification of our two homelands, in one form or another.” She shrugged, glancing towards the stables in the distance. “As for my skills - I’m a very dedicated woman. When I want something, I get it. If I set my mind to understanding the correct ways to run a mining estate, I will master it. If I decide to learn every form of swordcraft available to me, I do it. It’s part of my intensity.” She smirked again, before turning to Dean. “But I think we are done here, Dean, the Lion. I meant it when I said you should seek out Marcus. He would be the best whetstone to sharpen your claws upon. Otherwise you can chase after the dancing girl. She seemed fond of you.” She turned on her heels to walk the distance to the stables; one ear open for the peasant-boy’s reply.
Dean pondered her words, his curiosity piqued as she described an almost unlimited aptitude for whatever she wished to do. As she separated from him for the stables Dean stood smiling at nothing in particular. “In my experience most people tend to grow fond of me given enough time, but while dancing girls are all well and good I fear that fate may drag me to more uncharted terrains. It was nice to be beaten by, and then speak with you Alice. I wish every beating preceded talks like this.” With that he turned for his own path, Alice had provided a valuable lead on where next he should go, and surely a man of Marcus’ size couldn't be so difficult to find.
