Thread: Actions Speak Louder than Words Who: Imenry Barras, Cormac Murrough Where: Vigil’s Keep, Training Grounds When: 5 Solis, 9:45 Summary: Tensions between Cormac and Imenry finally come to a head. Rating: M (Language and Mild Sexual Content)
A new day found Imenry at the Keep’s training ground again and it was no real surprise. The guards were used to her presence by now and offered her nods in greeting rather than questioning looks. The fact that she’d advanced quite far in the tournament before losing to a horned giant also seemed to have garnered her respect and it made her smile a little even as it plucked at the frayed strings of her wounded pride. She’d advanced far enough to lose just before the end. It was almost worse than losing in the first round. Almost.
Even though there was no more tournament to prepare for, Imenry had needed to find some way to occupy herself on the final day before they would be sent out on various missions. She didn’t know the details of where they would be going as that information would only be released once the Joining was complete, but Imenry was aware that she’d be accompanying Signy, the same as last time. She was not really worried, though she felt edgy about who she might leave behind. Last time she’d parted from friends who’d never returned. Some who had died in battle, others who had simply left.
Would Brennan be joining her? Would Cormac be there? Would Elsa be shadowing her step the same as before? All these thoughts swirled in her head, some of them plaguing her. So she’d taken the trek from Amaranthine to the Keep, her claymore strapped to her back. The path seemed familiar by now and it didn’t take her long to reach the training area. It was still early, though the sun shone strongly above. A pair of guards were jogging the perimeter, sweat slicking their faces and shoulders and she briefly admired the view before stepping into a shaded area near the wall. She pulled the large heavy sword from her back, turning it once to check the blade for nicks or dirt that wouldn’t likely be present. Then she stepped back into the sun into a large clearing. Here the grass was worn away from regular traffic, a circular sparring area empty of any of the wooden training dummies that Imenry found to be of little use.
She leveled the sword, feeling a little pull in her still-sore ribs and winced slightly, shifting to stretch. Most of her wounds were well-healed. But even magic couldn’t rid her of all signs of the injuries she’d suffered. Beneath her top she now sported a long thin white scar along her rib cage. The wound at her shoulder had been shallow and left no marks behind. Lifting the sword again she began with a few basic moves, the sword and her body flowing as one from one move into the other. While she fell into the practiced moves she seemed to be at peace, comfortable here like she would not be in many other places.