"Ah, well accidents are no problem. Aim at one of my men, if it troubles you - that way you'll hit the beast after all." Ronan smirked. He whistled to one of his subordinates, waving them over and pointing in Alianor's direction. "Girl's going hunting. Set her up with some leather, would you? Don't want her getting infections from the tree-barbs, she won't fetch as much if she's damaged goods."

There was an audible squeal of delight from the bandit Ronan signalled to. The woman was tall, standing an inch or so above Ronan, fire-haired, with crisp green eyes and a bright, warm smile. She looked a little younger than Alianor, probably being in her late twenties. When she opened her mouth to speak, the cheery, bright tones of a native Greatmoor Highlander floated out. "Ah! Look at you, you gorgeous thing~!" she exclaimed in delight. "Look at your hair... I mean it's covered in shit now, the forest'll do that, but by the fires you are a perfect young lady aren't you? My name is Kessah, I work as the quartermaster. We don't have much for a girl your size, most of the lads are a wee bit bigger than you, but I could taper something great for you. Would you want something push-up? I reckon I could make a leather bodice that's pretty protective if you give me a few minutes to work."

Kessah took Alianor's hand quickly and tugged the woman over to an area filled with spare weapons, leather armour plates, clothing, and miscellaneous supplies. She unwrapped a bundle sitting on a nearby table, revealing a set of tailor's tools which had presumably been stolen from some other poor sod in the past, and quickly set to work making a set of armour for Alianor to wear - consistently changing the details in line with any comments she receives about comfort or styling.

"Maybe I will," Alianor growled, looking really quite annoyed. It looked like she really was going hunting. She had hoped she was just going to be left to her own devices until Ronan decided to get rid of her in exchange for some money. Seemed it wasn't going to be that easy. But hunting! It was quite an unladylike activity. It was popular among some of the men at the court for sport but certainly not the ladies. They would never even consider such a thing.

Alianor was quite taken aback by the cheerfulness of the other woman, added to by the fact she hadn't though there were any other women in the camp. Well she had obviously been wrong in that respect. She narrowed her eyes in a scrutinising manner. Why would any woman, no matter what class they came from, lower themselves to working with men such as these? It just didn't make sense to her at all. "Well, thank you," Alianor murmured politely in the response to the compliment. And what she said about her hair was true, so she wouldn't take offence to that. It would be nice if there was some way to brush it. "Nice to meet you, Kessah. And no thank you, something normal will do." The last thing she wanted to do was attract any more male attention. And it just wasn't appropriate anyway. She was surprisingly polite, though, when she spoke in reply to Kessah. Maybe it was the fact that she was a fellow woman. It made Alianor more inclined to trust her and less likely to judge. There could be all sorts of reasons for her being here.

Alianor was quick to give comments about what was being made for her, although she didn't have many adjustments that had to be made. What she ended up with was pretty plain, of course, but it would do. She had tried to get it made for comfort more than style, the opposite of what she normally wore but necessary for whatever she was going to have to do. She wanted something comfortable if she was going to be doing something like hunting. Once the outfit was done she thanked Kessah quite genuinely, darting off into the cave to get changed in privacy. It took her a while to managed to get out of her dress, even if it was simple it wasn't exactly made to be easily put on and taken off. But soon enough she emerged fully changed. The outfit was practical and comfortable, yet still relatively fitted enough to enhance the curves and body shape she had. The whole thing just felt... odd to her. She was so used to having some kind of skirt and had gotten used to walking with one. She wasn't sure what she thought of wearing trousers. "Well, I'm as ready as I'm every going to be." She frowned, obviously still not happy with the prospect of being forced to go hunting. However, even if she wasn't going to admit it, she was quite pleased with with the clothes Kessah had managed to fix up for her.

Roman grinned wildly at Alianor. He soon assembled the hunting party, including Huxley - who was a far better shot than his paunch might suggest - and a number of bandits Alianor had yet to find out the names of. Making sure that his captive was near the front of the group, just in case adrenaline got the better of her and she decided to take pot shots at him or his men, They set off through the gates.

Ronan was a good hunter. He knew how to read the animal trails: the soft paw prints left by wolves navigating the twisting paths that led through the undergrowth, as well as the tufts of hair caught on thick thorny bushes scattered along the edges of the trails. The hunt went reasonably well overall, Ronan bagging a rabbit which had the misfortune to wander by their party. He was disappointed with Alianor however... He had assumed that once she was out in the wood, even if she was forced to be there, she would get involved with the activity at hand. The woman wasn't even drawing her bowstring. Eventually he decided to make the test more direct.

He spotted something through the trees, and quickly loosed an arrow at it, hitting the in distinct beast with a satisfying thus in its neck. The bandits rushed over to look, and found a deer lying in the mud with the long arrow in its throat. It was dying, clearly: struggling for breath. He took a knife from his belt, then handed it to Alianor with a small smile.

"New girl gets the kill. Put the poor doe out of its misery, won't you? It'll thank you." Ronan said sweetly. Now, he thought, Alianor would have to take matters into her own hands. Today, he thought, was the first day of a new life.

Alianor spent most of the hunt silently fuming. They had no right to force her out like this, traipsing through the forest and trying to get her to slaughter animals. She kept her bow at her side as, unfortauntely, Ronan wasn't quite in a position where she would be able to shoot an arrow at him. It was obvious from how she moved that she was stiff and sore from the traipse the day before which only served to make her all the more grumpy. Really if she could she would shoot all of his men instead of an animal. It wasn't that she had anything against the killing of animals, it was the natural cycle of things after all, it's just that she didn't want to do it. She didn't think she could. She preferred to just eat food and not think about where it came from. That was always the easiest thing to do.

The sight of the deer lying in the mud, dying slowly and obviously in pain caused Alianor to gag slightly. They could have at least gotten a clean shot. "What?" she looked confused for a few moments as she was handed the knife, staring at the item in her hands before her gaze hardened. The glare she sent at Ronan was almost harsher than the others, more hateful and judging. But nonetheless she took a steadying breath and knelt down beside the poor creature. "Fine." Closing her eyes she quickly finished the job, staying crouched where she was for a few moments as she opened her eyes and stared at the now bloody knife in faint disgust. Then the slightest of smiles crept across her lips as she slowly turned away from the doe.

She quickly darted forward, stabbing the knife into Ronan's leg and making sure it lodged itself into his flesh. Then she jumped back, standing up and brushing off her hands with a slight smirk. "Done. You happy, now?" her words were venomous but it was obvious she was reasonably pleased with herself. She also didn't seem to be actively trying to actually kill Ronan, after all if she had been she would have aimed for somewhere much higher than his leg. She had just wanted to cause him some harm, and had seen her opportunity. It was somewhat of a release of all the days frustrations.

"Gaaahhh~! You little... ahhhhahahaha!" Ronan yelled out several stifled curses before breaking down into a fit of laughter. The bandit's leg was bloody, the knife having sunk deep into his thigh muscle. He soon lost balance, and one of his subordinates had to swiftly catch him and put his arm over their shoulder. One of the other bandits drew their own knife and advanced on Alianor, meaning to end her life, but Ronan shouted for him to stop. "Let her be Moore! This is the first bit of spirit I've seen out of her since we captured her- by the fires, you don't half have a mean streak do you princess? Make sure she doesn't try anything else before we get... ah damn that smarts... back to the camp."

Despite the large, painful wound Ronan could not stop grinning. This was exactly what he wanted - to give Alianor a taste of what it meant to live life like one was meant to, feeling emotion rather than constraining it, and being part of the natural cycle of bloodshed and consumption that made the world go round. He did not remove the large knife from his thigh, knowing that to do so would only make the problem worse. Rather, he spent the rest of the hunting trip hopping alongside the bandit who was supporting him. They soon decided to turn back, Ronan finding it too difficult to continue. Alianor was watched carefully by the other bandits, who kept their weapons ready in case she attempted something else.

Soon Ronan was at the gates of his home once more. The group was let inside, and Ronan quickly placed on a straw mat next to the fire. Gort soon lumbered over and examined him, taking out the knife with a swift jerk and stemming the fresh red flow with an old rag that he seemed to keep for such occasions. Once the wound stopped bleeding, Gort removed the rag and placed his hands upon Ronan's knee - Ronan fliching terribly as he felt the large objects pressing down on him. There was a soft light around Ronan's leg, and a wave of fresh pain shot through his body - it was like every muscle in his form was on fire, forcing him to seize and twist horribly for a few seconds before Gort drew away, the wound having been healed and the flesh knit together once more. Gort washed his hands in a basin of water, looking with a slightly disapproving frown at Ronan, then an even more disapproving one at Alianor. Clearly he could work out what happened.

"Do be careful." He grunted.

"Oh that's easy for you to say. It's not like this sort of thing is much of a problem for you." Ronan sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I'll be fine, Gort. Do me a favour though- princess needs to learn how to gut a deer, she killed it on the hunt. Did well - real proud of her... but I need a lie down."

"Alright." Gort said simply. He motioned for Alianor to follow him to where the bandits had laid out the fresh carcass. Gort was not the person to force Alianor into participating, but he was more than willing to demonstrate such a useful skill to the young woman.

Alianor didn't look too intimidated or scared when one of the other bandits advanced on her with a knife. She found she didn't really mind if he decided to kill her. At least she'd had the satisfaction of stabbing Ronan in the leg. She hated the fact that that had been enjoyable and that she had lost control of all the pent up anger she'd had gradually building since coming here. She liked to keep control of her emotions. Well, she'd let them get out of control now... There wasn't much she could do about that. "You don't know the half of it," she muttered with a slight roll of her eyes, chucking her bow at one of the nearby bandits to make it clear she wasn't going to try and shoot any of them. That wouldn't exactly turn out in her favour. After all there was only one of her and even if she did succeed in fatally wounding one (which she doubted she'd be able to do) she'd be killed herself pretty quickly.

She was confused as to why Ronan wouldn't stop grinning, but she put it in the back of her mind. She ignored most of what happened for the short period of time the continued with the trip, eyes narrowed as she glanced about. Now that she thought about what had happened she realised how it had been rather stupid. After all stabbing the leader of the bandits who currently held you captive generally wasn't advisable. Then again, she was still alive. She was beginning to suspect that Ronan had wanted a reaction like that from her, had purposefully set things up. Obviously he hadn't expected her to stab him in the leg. That had been very satisfying.

She was quite relieved to return to the camp, beginning to feel a bit emotionally and physically drained after the trip. She tried not to think about the fact that she had killed a deer, an innocent creature. She guessed it had been good for the animal... putting it out of its pain and misery. Still, she had a slight sick feeling in her stomach even thinking about it. She now understood the satisfaction in lashing out at those you didn't like, not so much in hunting. They were two entirely different things. She stood close to the fire after they entered the camp, curious to see what Gort would do about the wound. Her eyes widened slightly at the light, her entire attention on what was going on. She had never seen magic at work, not really, so this was quite a thing for her to see. In return to Gort's disapproving frown Alianor just shrugged, pasting an innocent smile and look on her face. She may feel guilty about killing the doe, but certainly not about stabbing Ronan. He deserved it so she certainly wasn't sorry.

It was quite obvious by the way she screwed up her face, looking quite ill at the sight of the carcass that there was no way Alianor was going to actually participate in gutting the deer. She did force herself to watch as Gort demonstrated how to do it, and she did pay attention to everything he taught to do with it, but more out of some small form of respect than anything. She flat out refused to even come close enough to the dead animal to be able to help with gutting it. It was bad enough that she'd had to kill it. She wasn't doing anything else with it. Pretty quickly the satisfaction she had felt began to disappear as she turned grumpy again, resentful looks all around although they seemed to be less harsh when it came to Gort. For some reason, out of all of them, she trusted him the most. He was certainly nice enough.

Alianor was quite quick to get away from the corpse after Gort had finished teaching her how to gut the deer, heading for a seat around the fire and delicately sitting herself down. She proceeded to stare in front of her, face emotionless with only the slightest sense of the permanent annoyance she seemed to feel visible on it as she ignored what was around her, losing herself in her thoughts and fiddling slightly with the ring on her finger as she did so.

"I'm sure you miss your family, and cannot feel anything but resentment towards my comrades. But you mustn't let Ronan get to you: do not lose control. I would tell you stories of things done on impulse which would no doubt chill your bones... worse than what you did to him today. It never goes well... and make no mistake, you are here in this camp because Ronan likes you." Gort began speaking in his characteristic, sagely mumble as he finished gutting and skinning the deer, throwing the hide on to a nearby pile of furs for cleaning and tanning, and the butchered meat onto another pile for preserving. He took a moment to wash the blood from his hands, then stood beside Alianor and stared at the same indistinct spot in the middle-distance she was seemingly contemplating. "Everyone in this camp is here because Ronan likes us, or sees us as useful. He is a dangerous man, and you would do well to remember that. He may seem jovial, childish even, but he has intelligence and anger to spare. He, and many of the founders of this group, were not always simple thugs - they were soldiers, and they knew their trade well. Even so, be thankful that you see the man he is and not the man he was... many of us hide darker things than we wish to speak of, in the wrinkles of our face."

Gort sniffed, putting a hand to his forehead and pressing for a moment, willing a sudden wave of pain that came over him to cease. After a few seconds it did, and he once more looked to the now leather-clad woman. Circumstance changes people, he thought- whether that be war or captivity. Alianor was already starting to bear the marks of this change, in the bold action she undertook earlier.

"You want to escape, go home, and I understand that. But in truth there will be no ransom settlement. Ronan has never kidnapped someone for ransom before... you pose a danger now that you've seen this place. Probably, you wouldn't be able to lead anyone back, but that is uncertain. What is certain, is that you will walk out out of those gates a friend, or you will never leave his sight again." Gort nodded, placing a hand on Alianor's shoulder comfortingly. "But Ronan is right- this is not something that should crush you. You have potential, though it is constrained by your upbringing. You have strength, more than you know, and a look at you confirms your intellect. Take this world, the forest cut off from all civilisation... take the lessons it gives you, and change the world you belong to for the better."

Gort waited a minute or so, then departed silently to attend to other matters. Ronan, at this time, could be seen on the other side of the camp - correcting the fighting posture of one of his bandits, who was training. A bandage around the man's bare torso implied he had a stomach injury of some kind, but Ronan didn't seem all too bothered by this. He pushed the man, forcing him to stand straight and firm, not permitting the pain of his injury to compromise the training. Ronan looked over in Alianor's direction, and gave her a warm smile. He wondered idly what she must be thinking. But there were other things he needed to do: Alianor's next test needed setting up.

"Believe me, I know how stupid my decision to stab him was," Alianor sighed, running a hand through her knotted hair. "I will not say I am sorry I did so, because I am not, but it was impulsive and something similar should not happen again." She didn't look at Gort as she spoke. She knew very well that Ronan was a dangerous man and had never regarded him as anything but that. After all, he had quite calmly ordered for her guards to be killed. She also knew how simple it would be for him to just end her life and she wouldn't be able to do anything about it. The mention of Ronan's past, and the fact he had been a soldier, caused her to think of the brand she had seen over his heart the night before. She still had faint recognition but she wasn't sure. It would come to her. Although she was certain it was something to do with the King.

"Oh." Of course, she should have guessed. She had underestimated the bandits... But she knew Ronan wasn't exactly stupid. If she was allowed free with a ransom then she would undoubtedly try to lead people here. She knew it was what she would do, and the bandits knew. What use was money if it caused your death? She didn't looked angry at this fact, faint realisation dawning on her face before it fully sunk in bringing about something... more than grumpiness. She was certainly upset at the prospect of never seeing her family again. While she did not get on too well with her father, she had been rather close to her older brother and two younger ones. She had not seen them for a while anyway but now... It was different. But it could have been worse. For once she was glad that her husband was dead. If he had not been... well she had loved him. It would have been difficult. "I guess I will try." She moved her gaze from were she was staring to glance up at Gort with a very faint, but pained, smile. Her words were quite genuine. If it had been Ronan saying this to her, well, she probably would have just glared and scoffed. But Gort had a certain wisdom about him and his words had a certain effect. She found herself listening to him, actually listening.

She glanced about the camp, gaze flashing between the members as she took in what they were doing. No, she really didn't want to live here. But it seemed she would be for the time being. So maybe she would try to broaden her horizons just a bit. Some of the people here were nice enough, Gort and Kessah namely. She could tried. She didn't have to like it here, though. And she still wanted to try and escape. She caught Ronan's warm smile in her direction, not returning it but instead raising an eyebrow. The fact that he seemed so jovial even after she had stabbed him. She guessed it was what he'd wanted - he'd wanted her to lose control. She sighed softly, standing up and attempting to stretch out her muscles as much as possible. She certainly wasn't used to being sore like this, just as she wasn't used to doing any kind of physical work. She didn't really like it. At least she had clean clothes now, even if they were... leather. And included trousers. They were quite comfortable, though. More so than most of her dresses. Having successfully relieved the discomfort in a few places Alianor sat back down, once back staring off into space. Her thoughts varied, moving between those of what it would have been like if she hadn't been taken captive to the perfect parts of her past. She really did wish she could go back in time to then. Everything had been so easy, and she had enjoyed life so much, when she was younger. Before everything really started to go wrong.

Ronan stood idly, flicking through an old book of combat stances he kept near the sparring area. His leg was still sore, but he was glad enough to be walking again - Gort was a skilled healer, but even his magic had limits. Had Alianor decided to cut something off him, or severed an artery, he may not have made it home at all. He thought about this for a moment. He had made arrangements in case of his death, of course, but the deals were old and likely needed to be renewed. Not all the partners would be so willing as they once were. Until then, he should probably avoid making Alianor too upset with him... but then, more importantly, Ronan thought she needed to reassess herself. And, he thought, he had the perfect way to give her some perspective.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of running, and cheering. He looked up, seeing a large crowd of people beginning to gather around something. He quickly jogged over, only to find two figures locked together. The man on the bottom was a dull-witted soul named Eberon. Kessah was straddling him, as the man desperately tried to get away and shield his face as Kessah beat him. Ronan watched for a short while as the man successfully blocked a few nasty-looking strikes with his forearms. He turned casually to the person beside him, asking "What did he do?". "Nicked a leg of deer from the stores. Thought Kessah wouldn't notice when she took stock." came the reply. Ronan shook his head. He watched for a moment longer, seeing a bloody tooth fly off to one side, before he shouted for Kessah to release him. She hesistated for a moment, but did so - giving him a parting blow to the stomach as she got up. Ronan sighed slightly, bending over so that he could look the man in the eye.

"Gonna do that again?" he asked simply. The bloodied man shook his head. Ronan offered his hand and pulled the man to his feet. "Try to find your tooth. Might be able to have it put back in if you get it to Gort quickly."

The fun over, the crowd dispersed. Kessah did not bother waiting to explain herself to Ronan, and she needn't have bothered anyway - she took her role as Quartermaster seriously, and Ronan was more than willing to dispense harsh punishments when necessary. It would be a while before another of the group decided to sneak something away, and this suited him fine.

Eventually, he managed to catch sight of Alianor again. He walked over to her, patting her shoulder in an overly-familiar fashion as she approached.

"Just the noble lady I was looking for!" he exclaimed happily. "See, I've been having a talk with some of the lads, and we all agree that if you're staying here for more than a couple of days you should probably undergo our initiation- make you feel more at home, y'know? It's nothing too bad, don't worry... essentially, you need to pick two people out from the camp. One of them will give you a bit of training, make you more comfortable moving around. The second person, you'll spar against - first one to put the other to the ground and hold them for five seconds, wins. Pass the test, we'll let you call yourself a member. It'll make the lads a bit more at-ease around you, and it'll mean I don't have to keep such a close eye. We tend to... self-enforce our rules, rather than leaving it up to me. So you'll be safer, that way, too."

The cheers had also interrupted Alianor's thoughts and, mostly due to curiosity, she had moved over to were people were crowded. It took her a while to get into a position where she could actually see, after all she wasn't exactly that tall. She almost instantly regretted that she had, in fact, decided to go see what was going on. She was shocked to recognise that one of the fighting pair was Kessah, and she was obviously winning. Well Alianor certainly had no wish to get onto her bad side. Still, to her it all seemed so overly. Of course she didn't know the context but surely there wasn't much that should warrant completely beating someone into a pulp. She wasn't watching by the time the guy lost his tooth, a grimace on her lips. It was really her first experience with violence within the bandit camp. She guessed that it was probably in return for him breaking some kind of rule. Bit of a harsh punishment, though.

She was quick to get away from the crowd once the fight was broken up, taking quite a bit to stop looking so disturbed by what she had just seen. While she was beginning to grow more accustomed to what went on around here she wasn't sure she would ever get used to that much violence. Especially if it occurred regularly. Even though she was a bit shocked by all that was happening she still managed to level a glare at Ronan as he approached her, patting her on the shoulder.

"You make it sound like I have a choice as two whether I stay for more than a couple of days," Alianor rolled her eyes with a scowl. This scowl just deepened as he continued to talk. "You can't be serious... Nothing too bad? Why would I want to undergo initiation anyway." She muttered the last bit before letting out a slight sigh. She guessed the only way she was ever going to leave this place was if she gained her trust. And to do that she guessed she would have to go through this initiation. She did not like the sound of it whatsoever. She'd never fought anyone in her life. In fact stabbing Ronan in the leg was the most violent she had ever gotten. A spar did not sound like something she'd enjoy. Nor have much chance of winning. "You know I am quite limited on options, right? I have only really spoke to three people in this camp, those being you, Gort and Kessah. I don't think I particularly like my chances at winning a spar against any of you. What happens if I don't pass the test anyway?" Which she wouldn't. Not a chance. Would they throw her out? Because that might be the better option. She frowned as she thought. She guessed she could pick the other person. Although it was just as difficult a decision. She was sure Gort could be a good option, but as he seemed to be the healer of the group he would undoubtedly be busy. More time spent with Kessah meant more chance of getting on her bad side, something she really didn't want to do. Though the other woman had seemed nice enough to her. And then there was Ronan... Many reasons to not choose him.

A slight smirk crossed her lips as an idea crossed her mind for who to spar with. There was other person she had 'talked' with, well she hadn't exactly said anything to him before Gort had come so gallantly to her defence that morning. She doubted she could win against the man who had talked to her that morning, she hadn't even been able to get away from his grip on her hand, but at least she would have some kind of motivation to try. "I think I have some idea as to who to spar against. I don't know his name, though. I am still unsure about the other person." She was going to have to do this, so she might as well try to make it slightly beneficial towards herself.

Ronan frowned at Alianor. "I... ah... didn't expect you to have someone already in mind. You know, if someone ever acts towards you in a way your not comfortable with, you should let one of my lieutenants know. Huxley, Gort, Kessah or Beckham - they'll keep the lads in line, and I trust them all to treat you right. I suppose you don't know who Beckham is, do you? He's the one... over there."

Ronan pointed across the camp to a man. He was tall, well-built, and exceptionally handsome - his features were sharp, his eyes a deep brown and his hair black, cut short and slicked away from his face. He was standing perfectly still, watching over the camp from the walkway at the top of the wall with a silent, unbroken dedication. Even from this distance it was very easy to tell that the man was not even quivering in the wind. His muscles were tensed, statuesque, ready. Ronan looked at him for a moment, then sighed slightly. "Don't surprise him though. He used to be one of those monks... what are they called... Vigilants, I think. He can be a little jumpy. He's a nice lad though, funnier than he thinks he is and smarter than maybe everyone apart from Gort."

"And don't worry about not passing the test. If your opponent wins, Gort will patch up any bruises on you and you can try again whenever you care to. The initiation isn't a life-or-death matter... but it helps get rivalries out of the mind early, and means that if you're new and you have a problem with someone you can deal with it." Ronan smiled at her. He wondered who would suit her best... the girl would need drastic training, or some dirty techniques, to be able to put down one of his men. Gort would be able to snap his fingers and have it done, but the experience would likely leave her perceptions of reality just a little too shattered for her to be useful. Kessah might take the training a little too seriously... "If you want my advice... I say go talk to the statue over there. He'll treat you right. He's also trained a fair few of the lads... and... well, he needs some more experience talking to women."

Ronan chuckled slightly, patting Alianor on the shoulder roughly again and striding off, deliberately leaving her to be confused.

"Well, you know, things happen," she stretched slightly then shrugged, managing to act surprisingly unconcerned by the entire thing. "You're concern is appreciated. And if anyone ever does make me feel uncomfortable I will make sure to talk to one of them." She tilted her head and her gaze moved over to the man that Ronan was pointing at. Well he certainly looked dedicated to whatever job he had. Watching she guessed. She didn't understand how someone could managed to stand so still. He couldn't be enjoying it, could he? Alianor would certainly not be able to do something like that. Although she really hoped that undergoing initiation didn't mean she had to start helping around the camp. She certainly didn't want to watch the walls, or go hunting again, or any of those things. She would do what was necessary to gain their trust then walk out of here. Hopefully.

"Never heard of those monks," Alianor frowned, blue eyes narrowing. Well that was delightful. She was glad the whole thing wasn't life-or-death but she didn't likely the idea of being beaten in anything. Nor having to physically fight either. If earlier was anything to go by as to how they fought... No she'd rather stay in one piece. She wasn't looking forward to any of this. At least she had more than one chance if she just failed the first time, which she was unfortunately sure she would. If it had been something intelligence based then she would have been sure she would win. But strength? Certainly not. "The statue? What? You mean him?" She pointed at Beckham looking slightly confused. Well he guessed that was what Ronan meant. Great. Time to meet another bandit. And if he didn't have much experience with woman... she hated when people were nervous around her because of her gender. That always irritated her.

Shooting a glare at Ronan as he left, Alianor muttered something under her breath about stupid men as she slowly headed over to where Beckham was. It took her quite a while to work out how to actually get up onto the wall, which was just annoying really, but eventually she managed to make her way onto the walkway. She was relatively noisy as she approached Beckham as Ronan had said something about not surprising him. She didn't want to be thrown of the wall or attacked by a surprised monk or whatever her was. "Eh, hello? Beckham?" She frowned, folding her arms and craning her head to look up at. "I'm looking for someone to train me for initiation and Ronan recommended talking to you. Of course, I don't know why I'm taking advice from him but there you go I'm talking to you." She frowned. It was difficult to think of the words to say to someone who seemed an awful lot like a living statue. She was sure he was a brilliant teacher, and pleasing enough on the eye, but she only hoped he wasn't one of those silent types. Talking was one of her strengths and when someone didn't talk back... well she ran into difficulties.

Beckham flinched as he heard Alianor say his name. Immediately his body language changed - his muscles went from controlled to contracted, his back straightening sharply and his eyes widened. He glanced to Alianor, then back to the spot he had previously been watching over. He waited a few seconds before he figured that Alianor probably wouldn't go away if he simply ignored her, and so he forced himself to relax a little and turn to face her. "Dick." he said, frowning. His eyes then widened again, and he looked at Alianor. His voice was bright, but clearly interlaced with a nervous quiver. "N-not you, I mean. Ronan. He's a dick. But... I already said that. I... yes, I can teach you to fight if you'd like me to. Did Ronan tell you I was a Vigilant? He probably did. He likes telling people things about me without my permission. I can... ah..."

Beckham turned on his heel swiftly, taking a moment to breathe. He closed his eyes. Then he spun around once more. "I would have thought you'd ask Kessah, since she's also... a lady. And terrifying. But I can teach you. When I was a Vigilant, we were taught how to control our bodies, see - it's a sort of... mind over matter... thing. Your body can move a lot faster, be a lot stronger, feel no pain... if you can control the subconscious part of your mind which tells you otherwise. For instance." Beckham held up his middle finger to Alianor's eyes. He kept it there for a moment, then hastily put it down and put up his forefinger instead, worried that the gesture may have been misconstrued as obscene. "Your jaw is strong enough to bite through your finger about as easily as biting a carrot. But..." he put the finger in his mouth and chewed for a moment. "You know instinctively not to do so. There's a survival instinct you can't just 'turn off' when convenient... unless you have training. The Vigil is the way of control - you master your body, and use it to defeat an opponent. Even someone twice your size, you can put down if you know how to move right."

Beckham looked at Alianor curiously for a moment. His eyes flicked towards her chest, for a split-second, then he began to stare back towards the camp. "If you pick out the person you want to fight... if you've chosen anyone yet... I can tell you exactly how their muscles work and how to win. Except Gort, or Ronan... or Kessah. I swore an oath to Ronan. Gort... I haven't figured out yet... and Kessah scares the shit out of me."

He paused for a moment.

"I think if you really want my help, you should show me how you would want to fight. There are some old mannequins which Kessah weighted to be like a real person, if you can see them over there." He pointed towards the training ground - there were indeed a few man-sized dummies there. "If you would, just take one and show me how you'd want to fight someone. I can help if I know where you're starting from."

Alianor arched an eyebrow, watching Beckham curiously. "He certainly is that," she agreed with a shrug. The bandit leader was rather irritating. There were many reasons why she had enjoyed stabbing him in the leg. "Yeah, he did." Not that she knew what that meant. She listening to what he said with interest, looking thoughtful. She could have chosen Kessah but quite frankly she also terrified Alianor after what she'd seen earlier. She would rather just avoid her so she could avoid getting on her bad side. She didn't want to be beaten into a pulp quite frankly. "Didn't ask her because I find her terrifying to," she admitted quietly. She was beginning to see why Ronan had told her to ask Beckham though. She wasn't exactly tall and she wasn't exactly strong, so she'd certainly need some kind of teaching that was out with brute force and power and all of that. The way of control sounded appealing, as well. She'd always controlled her emotions where possible. Controlling her body would be quite nice. "Certainly sounds like it could help."

"I think I've chosen someone, just don't know their name or where they are," she frowned, folded arms moving slightly upwards in an almost self concious gesture. "They're not any of those three. I don't like my chances there. And anyway I've already stabbed Ronan in the leg I think that's enough for dealing with whatever problems I have with him." She nodded. No, there was no way she could fight any of the three of them.

"How I would want to fight?" She looked confused for a moment, trying to think it through. How would she want to fight? She didn't really know. Avoiding injury as much as possible? Not fight at all. That would certainly be nice. "Right, I'll do that. Although I can tell you straight away I'm starting from... probably the beginning. I know a small amount of self defence, nothing very useful, and I only learned that because... someone insisted on it." With a dark frown she began to head towards the training ground hesitantly, movements stiff as she tried to work out what to do.

Upon arriving she stood in front of one of the dummies and took a few deep breaths. Right. How she'd want to fight someone. Remember, remember! It took her a few moments to slide into a more stable stance, feet slightly further apart and knees bent with her hands out in front of her. It was difficult to bring back to mind any of the few lessons she'd had with her husband, which she'd only done so he would have some peace of mind. Like she had learnt archery. She hadn't really paid attention or trying. Exhaling a breath she ducked down, almost like practising dodging a blow. She shuffled to one side, then the other, moving around the mannequin a few times. She kept her movements as fluid as possible, just moving about quickly and occasionally moving in to deliver a sharp blow to the dummy. This had next to no power behind it, but it was quick. It hadn't taken much thinking to realise that speed was likely to be her advantage. However it didn't take long for her to begin to get out of breath, stopping to double over and try and regain her breath. If this was going to happen she was going to have to get fit. Brilliant.

Beckham stood and watched Alianor jab at the dummy for a while, before eventually getting tired. She had seemed, at first glance, to be fairly fit and healthy, but her lack of stamina was disturbing to say the least. He motioned for her to move out of the way so that he could get a clear ring with the dummy, the nervous disposition fading slightly as he became more focused. Beckham was comfortable, fighting - this was what he excelled at. He demonstrated, first of all, how to stand - similar enough to Alianor's own stance, his feet were shoulder-width apart and he stood fairly straight, so that he would be balanced.

"If you want to do more damage with less raw power, you have to understand momentum. Two forces travelling in opposite directions do not cancel out at the point of impact, the impact point has the combined force of both. You might not be able to throw a man far, or kick him hard, but if you put the two together..." Beckham demonstrated his point on the dummy - clasping his hands around the back of the dummy's head and thrusting it downwards, bringing his knee up at the same time to hit the thing with a loud 'thwack'. It fell backwards to the floor. "...then the strike is stronger, without much more effort put in by you."

He stood back for a moment, and offered Alianor the chance to attempt this grab-and-strike technique. After watching, he nodded slightly and began to speak again. "It's also worth bearing in mind the body's natural points of balance and movement. I don't recommend you try this sort of thing in the initiation... we'd rather avoid breakages... but it's important to understand the theory. Human joints are only supposed to move in certain directions, but they're not particularly strong when pushed. So, for instance, if you strike firmly at the side of the knee it's very possible to break the joint, and cripple your opponent." He demonstrated on the dummy, kicking it at the leg and watching it topple to the ground. "See? Easy."

"The Vigil, however, seeks to combine the two for the sake of combat. We call it 'redirection' - taking momentum and routing it to a particular place on the body. For instance, say this dummy tried grabbing me..." Beckham made the dummy lunge at him. He grabbed it by the arm, allowed it to continue the lunge for a while, then hooked his foot behind the dummy's leg and pulled its balance out from underneath it. The thing was turned over, but Beckham kept hold of its arm. As it faced the ground once more, he kicked hard with his other foot and drove its torso into the ground. The connections around the dummy's shoulder snapped, and the arm dislocated in a painful-looking position. Beckham looked very pleased with himself for a moment, before he dropped the thing and stood to one side again, feeling a little sheepish. He hoped that Alianor didn't catch his attempt to show off.

"Show me what you can do, with that in mind. These are the basic principles behind it - the actual movements will vary a lot depending on the size of your opponent and the way of moving which is most comfortable to you." he said, mumbling slightly near the end of the sentence. He stood with his arms about him, a slight blush in his cheeks. "I'm sure you'll get it quickly."

Alianor nodded as he showed her how to stand then explained about momentum, trying to take it all into her mind as she regained her breath. She would definitely have to do something about her stamina. She'd rather not lose just because she exhausted herself. "Sounds simple enough," she mumbled, straightening up. It certainly made sense. After carefully watching what Beckham did she once again approached the dummy. Taking a few moments to think about it she moved forward and grabbing the dummy's head, swiftly bringing it down to also knee it. She wobbled slightly as she did so finding it difficult to balance on one leg if only momentarily as she brought up her knee but she just about managed to get the dummy to fall back. Not bad. This kind of fighting could be useful for that.

"What if I 'accidentally' do something like that," she tilted her head as she watched. "Is there a rule against breakages?" Not that she thought she would truly get a shot at causing one but it might be quite satisfying. She really shouldn't be thinking about a fight in those terms... she was just doing this to gain the bandit's trust. "And right, easy... easy..." One the bright side she was sure that out with of this fight most people would underestimate her. Hopefully. That was always an advantage.

"Whoa, well that was effective," her eyes widened as she watched. Beckham was certainly added to the list of people she would rather not annoy or get on the bad side of. "I wouldn't want to be a person you used that moved on." She wined. That was certainly a nasty looking dislocation. Good thing they had mannequins rather than always practising with other people. Then again she guessed this was just him showing her a more extreme move. She doubted she could replicate something like it but she could try.

"Right, I'll try," she nodded, looking quite determined. "And hopefully I'll pick it up quickly... that would certainly be nice. Sooner I get the initiation done the better. Though I really need to improve my fitness and stamina..." She huffed slightly. Neither had ever been essential things to her. She hadn't been like some noble ladies, who ate what they wanted and never bothered with keeping in shape, but she certainly hadn't exercised much. She approached on of the other dummies, quickly glancing over the different body parts. She darted to the side, one foot going up to kick at the side of the knee and cause it to topple over. As it fell she punched it hard in the back, foot connecting with it stomach around the same time. She let it drop to the ground before crouching down, panting slightly, and pulling it back up. Each time she changed the position of the dummy, changing the place she attacked and the way she did it. By the end the dummy wasn't in too good a state and Alianor really looked quite exhausted, pale, sweaty and panting. She was sure she'd done alright. Unfortunately a dummy wasn't a human, who would think and react.