Post by Deleted on Oct 20, 2015 8:05:29 GMT
It was a little past mid-day. The Sun was beaming strongly in the cloudless and wide-open blue sky overhead. Even under the shade of the trees on the very edge of the Windsor Greatwood Byron felt the blazing heat of its intense gaze. Not a single robin chirped its little tune to make a break in the droning silence. The intensity caused a bead of sweat to coalesce upon his brow and trickle down his temple as he fought against the weight of his plate-mail. The rather gentle breeze that roamed through the wood and rustled the leaves on their branches did next to nothing to assuage his discomfort, but he knew that he had to press on. The quiet was actually preferable at this moment. There was much less chance of distractions. Plus, the Guardian-in-Training could hear someone (or something) coming a whole lot easier that way. "This is a whole separate animal compared to simply grinding in the old game..." His voice was alike to his mannerisms: calm and rather lighthearted. Yes, it was also an old habit of his own to speak with himself, especially when he was training. It just seemed like a rather logical way to work out problems. If he stated in the simplest of terms exactly what his current dilemma was, then he could work that much faster to find a solution. Anyway, it wasn't like he was truly alone right now. In his peripheral vision he spied the young shire grazing on grass in the distance. He was a horse without a name, but ever since Byron had woken up the mount had not left his side. He was even complete with a saddle and bridle as if meant to be ridden. Of course, that was when Byron remembered that he had also chosen the 'Cavalier' subclass, a convenient way to roleplay as a knight and lessen the limitations on movement that came with the Guardian class. It was tame to his touch and responded well to his commands, but he still felt the need to tie the beast to a tree when he decided to march all the way out here to practice. Right now the horse seemed nonchalant and quite at home in the forest. His brown coat spattered with streaks of white stripes and spots blended in well with the wood. Also, the way he swished his tail around in a leisurely way further revealed his ease. Byron nodded in approval at him once before returning to the matter at hand. However, no answer was forthcoming at the moment. His shoulders hunched forward slightly as his gauntleted hands gripped the haft of his spear and the handle of his great shield. Their weigh was considerable and for a brief moment he contemplated setting the shield aside in order to practice more efficiently with the spear, but it wasn't long before he shook his head dismissively at the notion. "If I am to be a proper Guardian, then I must learn to bear it at all times." He raised the shield up until it hovered a few inches of the ground, then lowered his spear until it was leveled perpendicularly with his own body. A few yards before him stood a great tree already riddled with dents and a few scrapes. Some were old and some were new, as if previous players had gathered and instinctively used the same place to train countless times before. And why not? The place was a clearing, but small enough to where the boughs of the trees provided shade for the weary or concealment for those who wished to practice their sneak attacks. In any case, Byron's next move was to open the interface mentally before his narrow eyes and visually scroll through the tabs until he found the combat section. Then he placed the cursor on the technique called 'Sword Rain Flurry.' He made sure to breathe in deeply and expel another concise sigh. "Here goes nothing." He selected the move and immediately felt the familiar pull that happened every time he selected it before. It was like his body was taken from his control. His legs maneuvered mechanically as he rushed the tree before him. His nerves felt numb, but his body knew instinctively (or so it seemed) what to do. With a modicum of swiftness his spear thrust forward when it came to within reach of the tree. "Sword! Rain! Flurry!!!" He yelled the name of the move, but even that seemed robotic and forced. His spear developed a tiny blur as it jabbed at the tree at least four more times and bit deeply into the wood. Then, as suddenly as it had been taken away, the control returned to his body. The flow of blood seemed to resume inside his veins. The Guardian settled the end of the spear against the grassy floor and leaned on it subtly for support. "It sure takes a while to activate it... much harder to do without a mouse... especially when you're trying to focus on what is right in front of you." His brow furrowed in determined frustration. "...But I guess that it will become easier in time. Practice makes perfect, and let's face it: I have not been practicing that long yet. Back to work." The talking in-between uses of his technique was more to just allow its cool-down time to run out rather than to motivate himself. Inside his psyche, he passively lamented his old character, a Sorcerer, which to him came much easier than this front-line action. In that role, all you had to do was relentlessly pelt the enemy with long-ranged spells wherever they were strongest or your allies were the weakest and hope for the best. Once again he shook his head. Thinking about it now would do no good. He had already tried time and again to switch between accounts, but it only brought denial and failure. Like it or not he was a warrior now, and he was determined to master its style just like every other aspect of his life.
Word Count: 1017.
Word Count: 1017.
