Training for Peace

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Demetrious

Guest
Demetrious laughs, and momentarily tucking his flute under his arm, joins the big man on the ditty's chorus. It is obvious that he has spent time around millitary camps before.
 

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eriwoj

Guest
The flutes pause as the entire crowd joins in the drunken ditty. The elf laughs as the song finishes, "This round's on me!" he hollers as he jumps up on the bar lifting a drink skyward and the slams it down. Stepping off the bar and landing lightly he returned to his seat to catch his breath.
 

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Demetrious

Guest
Demetrious is laughing merrily along with the rest of the crowd (who are all quite pleased with Eriwoj) when something catches the corner of his eye.

A small circle has cleared around Demetrious before he sees that the shadow that had caught his attention was just a black cat with a mouse who was being hurriedly 'shoo'ed out the door by a barmaid.

Only now does he realize that his rapier is in his hand. The crowd, so mirthiful just seconds before, has gone silent.

Embarrased, Demetrious burys the tip of the rapier in the floor, and keeling beside it with two fingers pressed against the end of the hilt, adresses the crowd: "This is something I learned in camp, also!" Quickly withdrawing a dagger from his belt, he strokes it up and down the rapier blade, slowly, than more rapidly. Before long, the thin blade is vibrating, creating a humming sound.


Working steadily, Demetrious alters his application of the dagger, and slowly, but surely, the blade picks out a tune.

Mary had a little lamb...

The laughter starts up and spirits soar to previous hights. Sheathing his rapier, he adresses Stardust out of the corner of his mouth.

(Nodding towards Eriwoj) "He is training me for peace. But I can only pray I will have the time to learn."

(OOC: :bump: )
 

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eriwoj

Guest
"Demetrious, come here, son," the elf pleads, "I have a few things to tell you."

As the young man seats himslef another preformer picks up a song and the crowd is again absorbed in merriment. "First, I am no warrior myself. Second, I have seen plenty to know that no matter how much more training you go through it is just to keep your skills sharp. There is only one thing more I wish to know. Can you dance and if so I wish to see you in action then I shall be able to decide if you truely are ready. I know it makes no sense and you may even think I am nieve. Trust to it that I know of what I speak.

"Come to think of it, there are many issues over which we should speak. I think this conversation would be better held in a private room. Have you money to rent or shall I pay?"
 

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Stardust

Guest
In reply to demetrious, the young elf whispers

Forgive my ignorance, but I do not understand. This song and dance is but folly while true danger lurks closer than I like to imagine...'

He cuts off mid-sentence as Eriwoj summons Demetrious to his side. A young halfling produces a crude harmonica and begins to play, unwilling to let the mood die.

Through all the merriment, his world is suddenly quite silent as he stares across the room... The old man is still staring out of the window...

Training for peace... he mutters under his breath. I've never heard of training like this before, there is no instruction, tuition. What of discipline and meditation? The old man, how much does he really know? Was this pseudo-bard not a mere messenger just moments ago? Who sent him I wonder...?

He turns towards the bar. A cool glass of water if you... if you pl...

The barman nods quickly as a signal for the elf to save his breath as he slumps less than gracefully onto a stool, his eyes once again losing focus.

He sits, breathing shallow breaths, deep in thought once again.
 

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Demetrious

Guest
Demetrious smiles gamely and replies "I would be obliged if we could split the cost, but any way we do it my purse is to be allowed to contribute."

He pauses.

"In my childhood I learned how to dance from my elders. I stayed long into the night with them long after all others my age had long sense drifted away to other pursuits."

Demetrious's gaze has shifted to a far off point, but they abruptly refocus on Eriwoj.

"Yes, I will show you how I dance. Just, half a moment, if you will."

He rises, after removing his leathern armor with Eriwoj's help, and weaves his way through the revelers towards Stardust. He waits for the elf to finish taking a draught from his glass before tapping him on the shoulder and leaning over to his ear.

"I agree wholeheartedly. Eriwoj may be getting to his point soon, from what he just said to me. I hope he is- jumping at every shadow is tearing my nerves apart."

Demetrious moves to the center of the floor, beaming at the young halfling with the harmonica. He points him to the few other musicians in the room, a old man with a beautiful darkwood viola and two bards who have just arrived and are eagerly pulling out a variety of instruments. He requests that the young halfling play a simple lick to support the musicians in whatever they play, and the halfling eagerly runs over to the table where they are standing.

Announcing the dance, Demetrious waits for others in the room to prepare to participate. He then holds his arms at his sides and closes his eyes, staying that way for a good minute and a half.

The music starts.

A more difficult, but common dance is being played by the mucisians on the nearby table. The young man is awkward at the very start, but soon begins to flow into the forms of the old country dance. Smoothly, but with energy, flitting through the movements with only a moments hesitation. A fast part begins.

Demetrious changes.

His movements are still smooth, but with more energy, almost too much energy. The forms and motions are still correct, but they have lost the unhurried beauty of before. His dancing is faster now, and still keeping the flowing dance, almost violent.
The musicians increace their tempo to match the dancer, and the rest of the revelers take note, trying to keep up. But before long, the rest move back, warily eyeing Demetrious as his dance becomes even more energised.

The fine polish, the fluidity of the movement is just now starting to disappear, the young mans movements now to violent and swift to continue dancing as before. His movements convey anger. Frustration. Anger. ANGER.

The mucicians have stopped. The revelers have stopped. The musicians begin to strike up another tune but it falters and dies. The revelers cheers and encouragement, however, continue.

There is nothing gracefull about Demetrious's movements now. They are simply violent, lashing about carelessly. He finally seems to reach a climax, a series of spinning manuvers mixed with kicks and leaps. His exausted panting can now be heard over the supporting crowd.

And suddenly, a noise tears from his throat and his entire body seems to lunge forward.

"ANGA-PAUR!"

And then he is panting, lieing on the floor, and patrons of the tavern are picking up peices of what was once a chair off the floor and nearby tabletops. The crowd goes silent with amazement. The taverns owner rushes over to lift the young man off the floor. His chest is still heaving, but he manages "Chair... my purse.... pay for the chair...."

The owner laughs as he nods his head in the direction of the door, where even more townsfolk are coming in to sate their curiousity. "If buisness was this good every night, I should pay you! "

As they prop him up in a chair, complementing his dancing and speculating on whether or not they can match it, only one thing is running through Demetrious's mind...

My stupid mouth... oh, not one elf, but TWO! Did they... of COURSE they did... so stupid... so stupid....
 

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eriwoj

Guest
"Relax son; catch your breath," the elf turns to the keeper and requests a private room for conversation. The keeper takes the coins offered and returns with a key.

"Up the stairs take a right. The second door on the left."

"Thank you. Demetrious, can you manage your sekf up to the room? I shall carry something if you wish."
 

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Stardust

Guest
After a cool drink of water, the elf appears to perk up and watches Demetrious'... performance... for want of a better word, with a mixture of interest and puzzlement.

In the chair-shattering finale, he remains unfazed, in his now-usual state of concentration. As the other elf begins to help Demetrious away, Stardust quickly hurries to hook the man's arm in an attempt to help support his weight.

I should like to join the pair of you, if I may? I have a number of questions I should like to put to each one of you... I will of course offer up my share of the cost. If you hadn't made a guess by now, I am a blood mage and I must say that when I look inside this man's veins, t'would be comparable to the belly of a dragon.

Climbing the stairs, he falls again back into silence. Doing his best to be reasonably casual, he shifts his grip on Demetrious' arm, placing a finger on the inside of his wrist, feeling the pulse. The slightest of shivers passes through his lanky frame as he quickly tries to steer the conversation.

It sounds as if the merriment continues even in our absence. If all else fails, I daresay we could make a living as entertainers. Now... is this our room? Let us get this good fellow laid down and I shall see if I can do something to rejuvinate him once again...
 

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eriwoj

Guest
"Yes, do join us. I would be happy to answer any questions, you wish to pose," the elf says, then adds, "Call me Kiran. All this formality of names is starting bother me. As to the merriment it is mearly a distraction; we need not have others following us. You see as simple as I seem my mind is much more complex than what shows."

They reach the room and Kiran unlocks the door. He sets Demetrious' armor in a corner and pulls out a chair for the other elf who is tucking the Demetrious into bed, but does not himself take a seat.
 

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Demetrious

Guest
The room is fuzzy. Vauge sounds come to his ear but cannot be understood.

Too much! I revealed too much!.... should never have let myself get that carried away... should not have allowed myself to remember..... fool! NEVER let any inner torment command you, you idiot!

Old, painfull memories sweep over Demetrious in an unceacing black tide, that for a few minutes bury him and threaten to smother him, before he can throw them off. He is left drenched with sweat, shivering under a thin cotton blanket on a narrow but comfortable bed.

The one who calls himself Stardust is a mage, and no fool. He must know, now.

Demetrious raises his right hand, the one that struck the chair, close to his face. It is unmarked, not even a bruised knuckle. He swiftly tucks it underneath the blanket again and scrunches up, determined to gather his wits some more and perhaps hear some of what the two elves have to say before joining the conversation.
 

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