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--- training_in_the_tower [2022/05/07 03:54] – nmorse
+++ training_in_the_tower [2022/06/03 01:46] (current) – nmorse
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 Gar had been asked by guard captain [[Thorbrand]] to lead his most promising recruits to the spire, and offer whatever guidance he felt appropriate in their mission to clear out a flock of stirges that had taken up residence on the upper floors.  Stirges, bat like creatures with needle sharp beaks, were a moderately dangerous to a man caught unawares, as their saliva somehow prevented wounds from healing.  A flock of over a hundred like the one the group had just dealt with, that could leave desiccated corpses littering the countryside in short order.
-But now that was no longer a worry.  As a senior hunter, adept with the bow and crafty with snares, Gar could have dealt with the flock in about a week, picking them off one by one.  It may have been noisy, but these three youths accomplished the task in a single afternoon.  Thorbrand was right about these three's promise.
+But now that was no longer a worry.  As a senior hunter, adept with the bow and crafty with snares, Gar could have dealt with the flock in about a week, picking them off one by one.  It may have been noisy, but these three youths accomplished the task in a single afternoon.  Thorbrand was right about their promise.
-Just a few steps ahead and below, the Wood Elf [[Daphand]] kept the others covered with his bow, eyes alert fro trouble.  Cometent with bow and blade, the lad lived up to the commons preconceptions folk had about his kind, even if he //looked// like a stripling.  And while his spirit magic was all but useless in a fight, the lad had the wits to use it wisely ahead of time.  "What if we all smelled like rain?" indeed.  Stirges only really care about three scents: blood, flesh, and citrus fruit.
+Just a few steps ahead and below, the Wood Elf [[Daphand]] kept the others covered with nocked arrow, eyes alert for trouble.  Competent with bow and blade, the lad lived up to the common preconceptions folk had about his kind, even if he //looked// like a stripling.  And while his spirit magic was all but useless in a fight, the lad had the wits to use it wisely ahead of time.  "What if we all smelled like rain?" indeed.  Stirges only really care about three scents: blood, flesh, and citrus fruit.
 Just ahead of the elf, the solid bulk of Hanzo bore the fruit of the exercise: a sack containing the beaks of the Stirges they had fought.  The Uruk had a solid grounding in the strange Mandarinate magecraft his family practiced, and was competent enough with what he called "agricultural tools", like the pair of straight-bladed hand scythes he bore.  His spells were subtle, and worked against his foes gradually.  For immediate applications of force, the trio depended most on...
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 "Oh?" [[Freyane]] responded in mock challenge, raising her rune-engraved mace.
-"He was a bit of a traditionalist as I understand it, may he find peace with the ancestors.  My grandmother, once I tell her of this trip, is likely to inquire if you can embroider that on a pair of gloves."
+"He was a bit of a traditionalist as I understand it, may he find peace with the ancestors.  In contrast, my grandmother, once I tell her of this trip, is likely to inquire if you can embroider that on a pair of gloves."
-The youthful human examined her weapon for a moment.  "I's suggest something with more bracing, like a gauntlet," she responded.  "My big brother tried that once, and was stuck in a sling until Pa could get him into town to see [[Sister Maria]].  Freyanne had learned the basics of her grandfather [[Svall Svallson]]'s rune scribing magic.  But where he engraved and imbued sling stones by preference, she had engraved her armor, shield, and mace to accept her power.  This made her surprisingly more effective front line fighter than her skill set would suggest, at least until she became exhausted.
+The youthful human examined her weapon for a moment.  "I'd suggest something with more bracing, like a gauntlet," she responded.  "My big brother tried that once, and was stuck in a sling until Pa could get him into town to see [[Sister Maria]]."  Freyanne had learned the basics of her grandfather [[Svall Svallson]]'s rune scribing magic.  But where he engraved and imbued sling stones by preference, she had engraved her armor, shield, and mace to accept her power.  This made her surprisingly more effective front line fighter than her skill set would suggest, at least until she became exhausted.
 The quartet arrived at the ground floor of the spire, and finding no challenges, moved to collect their traveling gear, carefully stashed under the stairs and behind another of Daphand's subtle protections.  "Master Woodsborn," Hanzo began in a deferential tone, "The spire is in excellent condition.  Why hasn't it been reclaimed for use?"
-Gar paused partway through shouldering his pack, then straightened.  "A good question.  There are three good reasons.  Any guesses?"
+Gar paused partway through shouldering his pack, then straightened.  "An excellent question.  There are three good reasons.  Any guesses?"
 "No water," Daphand offered immediately.  "No cistern on the top floor, and the Elves who used to live here took whatever artifacts that ran the fountains and basins with them when they left."
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 Gar gestured at the archway separating the entry area of the spire from the central chamber, extending a full thirty stories to the top.  "Daphand, if you would?  I promise, no harm will come of it."  The Wood Elf eyed his mentor dubiously, then cautiously stepped through the arch.
-Withing the central area, the light dimmed, then brightened in candle flame colors.  An unseen orchestra began to play a soothing, waiting sort of melody.  And finally, a fifty foot illusion of a gorgeous Elven man in an overstated outfit appeared, and began speaking in an announcer's tone in an archaic form of the Elven tongue.  Daphand began translating for the others.
+Within the central area, the light dimmed, then brightened in candle flame colors.  An unseen orchestra began to play a soothing, waiting sort of melody.  And finally, a fifty foot illusion of a gorgeous Elven man in an overstated outfit appeared, and began speaking in an announcer's tone in an archaic form of the Elven tongue.  Daphand began translating for the others.
-"Welcome, lords and ladies, honored guests all, to the final performance of the Spire of Mirabel players.  While we are saddened by the end of our time here, we have chosen to celebrate this night.  For your delight and entertainment, we have chosen to perform, in it's entirety," Daphand's tone begins to rise in startled alarm, "the epic of //King Regis the First and the Giant Queen//!?!"  The young Elf scrambled out of the chamber, though the illusion continued to speak.  "The entire thing?" he demanded pleadingly of Garlick.
+"Welcome, lords and ladies, honored guests all, to the final performance of the Spire of Mirabell players.  While we are saddened by the end of our time here, we have chosen to celebrate this night.  For your delight and entertainment, we have chosen to perform, in it's entirety," Daphand's tone begins to rise in startled alarm, "the epic of //King Regis the First and the Giant Queen//!?!"  The young Elf scrambled out of the chamber, though the illusion continued to speak.  "The entire thing?" he demanded pleadingly of Garlick.
 "Oh, you're familiar with the work?" the older man responded calmly.
-"I read it once, and that took a day and a half of my time.  And I skimmed the //Litany of Out Heritage// sections!"
+"I read it once, and that took a day and a half of my time.  And I skimmed the //Litany of Our Heritage// sections!"
-"If it makes you feel better, they only do the High King's lineage here."  Gar chuckled, "And that, trainees, is why no one lives here.  Any person enters the performance area, that starts.  And goes on for two hole days, including meal breaks and intermissions.  no one has found a way to stop it, and some of it is... noisy."
+"If it makes you feel better, they only do the High King's lineage here."  Gar chuckled, "And that, trainees, is why no one lives here.  Any person enters the performance area, that starts.  And goes on for two whole days, including meal breaks and intermissions.  No one has found a way to stop it, and some of it is... noisy."
 "I can imagine.  Like the coup in the Giant's Palace."