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Ahh I’m lazy it’s open for everyone
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Liram Najaho [+]

Liram Najaho

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Name
Liram Najaho

Race/Faction
Born into the Veiled Ones, but somewhat beguiled by the Ouroborus and their powers

Age
22

Description
Standing at a tall 6'3", Liram takes after his father's height and looks. He has milky brown skin the color of the sands and brown curls falling just below his neck. Another oddity besides his rather pale skin color are his stark blue eyes that he shares with his half sister Elize that sets him apart from many of the Veiled Ones. With his training, he has built muscles in both his legs and arms, but his sword arm has gained the most strength. Strapped to his side at all times, his bronze Khopesh is his most trusted weapon. He's a handsome young man, but he is still set apart from his people.

Class
Foot Soldier slowly rising through the ranks.

Motivation
Liram finally knows what he can do to prove himself to his people. Maybe fighting this rebellion will finally win him the love and respect he has always craved, or maybe it will lead him to the mystical allure of the Ouroborus. Either way, he's going to find his calling.

History
Born the bastard son of High Lord Casterly and a desert Veiled One, Liram has lived an alienated life. Everything about him has set him apart from his people and his culture. His father insisted he take a family first name before retreating back to his cushy life of money and wine and even more women. Liram's mother never explicitly told him that his dad was a kingdom nobleman, but he could at least deduce that his father was not a Veiled One, not to mention the fact that he is notably paler than his peers.
He was teased and bullied as a child, called milk face and a betrayer to his kind because of his blood. Worried her child may be expelled from the tribe, his mother pleaded with the Cealla elder women to keep him and accept him into their society. They reluctantly agreed, under the circumstances that when the time came, Liram would have to leave and migrate back to the kingdom, so his unnatural disruption would be righted in the universe. But then the rebellion started, and he was given a chance to train, fight, and earn his place with the Veiled Ones.
During an early training session, some masters of the Ouroborus came and visited. Liram was immediately drawn to their abilities and glamor, and they knew it. Torn between his duty to his mother and his people and the hunger for power that lies deep inside him, he's still unsure if he should abandon the only life he's ever known and seek out the Ouroborus for guidance.

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Strengths
Loyal • Physical Fortitude • Impulsive

Weakness
Eager • Insecure • Slow

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What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Liram is ambitious, but not for the right reasons. It is possible he may become dedicated to the rebellion at some point, but for now, he is more focused on his own goals of acceptance and this feeling of home he so desperately craves. He will be unwavering and loyal to those who show him the same amount of consideration and respect.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
He really needs to get over his need to please others and receive praise in return. While he's not a dumb boy, a few nice words can lead him down the path of long-term manipulation and control. What he needs most is to realize that he has nobody he really needs to prove himself to other than him.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
Despite how wrapped up Liram is with his own personal image and how society sees him, he has a lot of potential not only as an individual but as a high nobleman's son. Once people learn of his lineage, he has the ability to not only alter the mindsets of the Veiled Ones and the commoners of the Kingdom, but the royal class as well. The nobles will listen to his blood right and the peasants will see his humble beginnings and capability to overcome his vulnerable self.

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The desert sands whipped across the cold night and splattered onto the small encampment. The soldiers huddled together around their small fires, chatting about home or women or the rebellion. Letting the heat of the flames lick against his sore back, Liram stretched his muscles out. "Milk face," one recruit called out to him. It was a young boy, maybe around 19 or 20. Though the Veiled Ones are a tight-knit people, Liram had never seen him before. He was as the color of tree bark and had a light pink scar running across his nose. "The soldiers around here tell me your father is a kingdom noble man, and that's why you're so pale."
Rubbing his face, Liram bit his tongue. "One night," he muttered to himself. "Just one fucking night." Liram knew his father was a kingdom man, but he was no royal. That was a rumor the soldiers had come up with to ridicule and humiliate him.
"Well?" the young man asked, expectant and staring.
"Sol made me this way, so this way I shall be," Liram answered easily. It was a phrase he had memorized as a child, one his mother had taught him.
"Sol makes no mistakes like your skin," the recruit retorted.
Liram could feel his fingers grip the hilt of his Khopesh. Normally he could take the usual taunts, but tonight was different. His cheeks flared with color and his heart began to beat with adrenaline. He could feel the eyes of his fellow soldiers begin to turn and watch, waiting for somebody to move.
"Then maybe Shrikant or Macea did it. It is not my place to question the gods," Liram finally responded after a tense pause. He didn't feel like fighting tonight, even if it was a wound on his ego. He had already spared so much today.
"You know what use to happen to babies like you?" the boy asked. Before Liram could even turn to look, the recruit grabbed his sword and was on his way to strike.
"We use to gut you and sacrifice you to So--"
Liram jumped from his spot, Khopesh in hand. He deflected the recruit's long sword with ease, the deafening clank shattering all conversation across camp. The boy was still in basic training, Liram noted. His curved blade hooked onto the short sword and yanked it from the recruit's hand before taking another swipe at the boy's sword hand. Wisely, the kid stumbled back, nearly tumbling into the burning embers and coals. He cursed and yelled and called it an unfair match, but their captain had already emerged from his tent and demanded an end to the violence. Liram spat before the boy's feet, the ultimate insult. This wasn't the first fight he'd had over his skin. It wouldn't be his last.

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Elize Casterly [+]

Elize Casterly

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Name
Elize Casterly


Race/Faction
The Kingdom

Age
17

Description
Elize takes after her mother very much in her looks. She has blonde flowing hair running down her back and a petite build of 5'2". She is a typically beautiful noble child, but her bright blue eyes that she shares with her half brother Liram attract much attention and many suitors. She wears a special ring given to her by Lady Casterly in order to help control and boost her magical powers. While pictured above with her hair down, her hair is in braids or a bun the majority of the time to keep it out of her face because it breaks her concentration.

Class
Witch

Motivation
Elize needs to reclaim her father's titles and lands, for the sake of her future and her family. She has no one allegiance to either the crown or the rebels, only to her family.


History
High Lord Casterly and his wife Lady Casterly happily welcomed their third child, baby Elize, within the walls of their lavish Kingdom manor. Elize grew up in a privileged life, with little responsibility and expectation. Her eldest brother, Micah, would inherit the Casterly seat and wealth, while her older sister, Lyra, would be trained and educated to marry into another house. Elize would eventually be married off as well, but she did not receive the same pressure as her two older siblings. She easily became spoiled and fat with all her mother and father gave her. Every jewel or cloth or thing she ever desired was given right to her.
As Elize grew older, turmoil steadily began to brew in the Kingdom between the commoners and the nobles, but Elize remained oblivious in her comfort. Things progressively deteriorated, and Elize's parents argued over whether or not to tell her. High Lord Casterly wanted to keep his darling baby girl ignorant while Lady Casterly wanted to arm her youngest child with knowledge and magic. Witchcraft was an old practice among the ancient women in Lady Casterly's family, one cast back in favor of royal court life, but Lady Casterly knew enough to teach her daughter. Going behind her husband's back, Lady Casterly began teaching Elize the archaic practice at the tender age of 13. Lady Casterly was afraid that the magic wouldn't take well, as most children begin their training around 5 or 6, but Elize was a natural. She had a true gift. The way she crafted spells and charms were beyond any witch in her lineage, which somewhat concerned her mother. They began to have trouble concealing her abilities. Elize was susceptible to tempers and outbursts that influenced and affected her surroundings, making her powers all the more evident, but her father is still oblivious.
By 16, she should have been married off to another noble family, but her father was very distracted by the onslaught of out all revolution. Micah became apart of the Vanguard and died defending the royal heirs from an angry mob. House Casterly was falling apart with no son. Lyra was married off to a rich family far away, and would not come to harm as a result of a coup. High Lord Casterly has come down with a mysterious illness Lady Casterly believes is the responsibility of either the Ouroborus or the Veiled ones, leaving the two women of House Casterly to run their daily functions. While Elize promised her mother that she would only use her magic to defend herself, she is secretly beginning to hunt out her family's enemies and slowly pick them off one by one, whether they pledge to the crown or not.

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Strengths
Honest • Magically Gifted • Loyal

Weakness
Temperamental • Apathetic towards others • Notoriety

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What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Elize is ambitious beyond belief. She is willing to do anything to protect her family and its possessions now that Micah is dead and her father has fallen ill. She may feign the helpless young girl act, but know that she is much more powerful than she seems.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Her willingness to do anything could easily teeter her over the edge into some improbable and risky situations. She's not eager to face death, but if doing so will save house Casterly, don't doubt that she will do so. While she has no true allegiance to either side of the rebellion, she is willing to double cross both if it means she gets to return to her old life.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
Elize already has the noblewoman factor going for her. She can be charming and charismatic with her soft looks and tempting lips, but that is only the power of a beautiful woman. Coupled with the exceeding abilities of an exemplary witch, she could make waves if she so desired.

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Elize wandered through the streets, a dark hood tossed over her head. She walked with precision and a fast gait but kept her head pointed down. Now wasn't a good time to attract attention. The sounds of the peasants' rebellious preachings echoed through the narrow streets, calling for the head of the king and all of the nobles as well. Speeches like this use to frighten Elize, sometimes even give her night terrors, but things have changed.
The girl arrived at her destination. It was a small divination shop called Wicca's Haven that sold small amounts of herb and carved candles that were supposedly enchanted with love spells. Elize pushed the creaking wood door open before stepping inside the musky space, the stench of lemon and rosemary washing over her senses. An old crone stood behind a counter. She grinned knowingly at Elize, revealing her greying gums. "Child," she rasped softly. "I was not expecting you for another few hours."
Elize smiled back and removed the hood from her head. Had it not been for the tie containing her blonde curls, her hair would've tumbled down her shoulders and reached past her waist. "I know, Anari, but things have become more urgent. My father has gotten worse."
The old woman nodded in understanding. She reached for something below the counter and brought out a small black bag. Elize approached and peeked inside, looking at the brown brittle tea leaves. "I am terribly sorry to hear about dear High Lord Casterly," Anari murmured. "Remember to give him this tea once a day, and he will get better."
Elize stared at the little pouch and frowned. She reached inside her pocket before setting a sizeable amount of coin on the counter. "Thank you, Anari. I will be back soon," the girl bid the old witch goodbye.
Putting her hood back on and stepping back onto the street, Elize tucked the pouch of tea leaves into her dress. The medicine had worked so far. Her father was beginning to be able to sit up on his own and breathe normally. Before, he had been so weak he could barely lift a finger. Thank the gods Elize had found Wicca's Haven.
The commoners were becoming more rowdy as Elize walked home. They spoke of royal blood running through the streets and the king's head on a spike. Like children, they screamed and shouted in delight at the thought of the king's dead body being ripped apart by their bare hands. Elize knew they had good reason to be mad, she had to admit that. But if the king came down, so would her family. She couldn't let that happen.
"Hey!" a gruff voice called from behind her as she left the larger crowds. The girl walked on, trying to ignore the man. "Hey, I'm fuckin' talkin' to you." A hand forcefully yanked her back and whirled her around.
A man, maybe in his mid 30s, gripped her elbow and pulled her close enough that she could smell the stink of onion coming off his breath. "What's gotcha runnin' so fast, little girl? Ain't you with the rebellion?" Elize's heart began to spasm in her chest. She tried twisting her arm away from his grasp, but his fist only clamped down harder. "Huh? You gon' answer me?"
"Fuck off," she managed to sputter out.
His eyes darkened. "Now, who taught you that kinda language?" The peasant's other hand came up, poised to strike Elize, but it stayed frozen in the air. He grunted and twitched his arm, but the hand refused to move. His eyes widened in realization as he looked between Elize's gaze and his wrist. He opened his mouth to scream, yell, beg, curse, but choked down his words. His hold on her arm loosened and she managed to pull away as he clawed at his throat, trying to get at least one gulp of air. "Please," he pleaded with his last breath. The crowd was too enthralled in the sermon to notice the man slowly suffocating from nothing. Elize watch as he crumpled and the light slowly faded from his eyes. There was no place for men like him in this world. Not even in a place as corrupt as the kingdom.

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@OneStoryToMany Finished with both! :) Tell me if there's anything I need to fix or change

@OneStoryToMany

I haven't finished quite yet but I just thought I'd share what I have so far with you so if you have anything you want me to fix I can fix it.

Princess Eleanor [+]

Name
Eleanor Rose Cordathian

Race/Faction
Originally Kingdom but leaves and joins Rebellion

Age
26

Appearance

Eleanor stands gracefully at a petite 5'4", despite being on the shorter side she was blessed with what she has been told is the body of a perfect woman. Eleanor is on the smaller side but still has some curve to her, which disgustingly gets pointed out when some lords get drunk and decide to bother her. The princess also has long dark brown hair that is always done up some intricate way, whether it is curled, has a braid, or has some fancy hair piece in it. To match her hair she has chocolate brown eyes that shine with her smile, a smile that she always tries to keep on her fair skinned face to help show that she is friendlier compared to the rest of her family. She can always be found in some sort of nice dress as her father forbid her from wearing any form of trousers even when it comes to riding her horse.

Class
Royalty - Princess


Motivation
Eleanor has always been someone who has made time to get to know everyone who works in the castle along with her personal maids and her 'ladies-in-waiting' that were there to help her and in a way be her forced friends. Despite this she got to know all of them well and has befriended most of her 'ladies-in-waiting' along with the people in the castle. Through Eleanor's friendships with people in the castle she learned of a few of the darker things that happened outside of the castle walls, the things she was blinded from. She learned of horrid things her father or brother did and would be disgusted by. As more and more of these things piled up along with things she learned from Fenros she began to want to change the way her kingdom was run. Then when she found out about a secret her father had been keeping for years... well it just pushed her to the edge and she knew right then and there she would have to take charge of her own destiny and work towards changing the kingdom for the better.

History
What is your past? What are you running from? What are you trying to save? Or destroy? Is your background noble? Common? Who are you and what makes you, you?

Strengths
- Diplomacy
- Natural Charisma
- Speaking (speeches/motivating people to come together/etc)
- Empathy
- Natural at Horseback riding

Weakness
- Naivety
- Empathy (both strength and weakness)
- Physical strength and stamina is not very high due to her way of life

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Eleanor holds a strong love for her kingdom and its people. Unlike most she does not view herself above the commoners, she only views herself as being lucky enough to have been born into the family she was. Which makes her believe that she should only use her power that she holds over others when it is necessary and correct time to use it. When she does decided to use said power, Eleanor has a certain way with words that she naturally came by. Her father has had her use it to motivate warriors before they set off for war or a fight and the feedback is always positive with people saying her words spoke to a different part of them and just enhanced their drive and motivation to win.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
Eleanor is much too caring and naive to the way the outer world works. She has a view that there is good in everyone even if it is hard to see at first, so she will stop to help anyone she can even if it puts her in danger. Sometimes without knowing she is even in any danger.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
Eleanor was raised within the world of diplomacy and was made to sit with her father through court since a young age. Even if she was not going to be the one to inherit the throne her father wanted her to know the inner and outer workings of what it is like to run a kingdom as she would be the one to step in if her father needed to leave the castle to attend to something for a few days while her brother finished his training. The same would be done by her for if her brother had to leave the castle for some time once he took throne. Eleanor was basically trained to be the backup ruler in times of need.

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"Watch out!" The brunette called out with a laugh as she watched a ball of snow hit her friend and one of her 'ladies-in-waiting', Selene, in the side of the head. Selene stood in shock for a moment before looking a short ways across the snowy field to where two more of the 'ladies-in-waiting' were standing giggling with snowballs in their hands.

"Did you just!?" Selene stared, half in shock and half smiling at the two before looking back to the princess, the two making eye contact and instantly knowing what the other was thinking. The two girls took off running, stopping when they reached a nice mound of snow they could kneel behind to take cover all the while giggling. They then began to make as many snow balls as they could creating a pile of them.

When the two girls were ready, Eleanor peaked her head over the mound of snow only to have to quickly duck back down as a snow ball flew over her head. The two girls then picked up as many of the snow balls as they could and stood up. The four girls ran at each other throwing the cold balls of powdery snow at each other. They continued just throwing the snow, playing around as their laughter rang out in the field.

Eventually the four of them could be found lying down in the snow, Selene having stumbled and taken Fiona down with her. Then when Eleanor and Lily went to help them up, the two girls in the snow just pulled the other two down to join them. The four were giggling with each other, all of them trying to stop to catch their breath. They would have stayed there for a while if it wasn't for the sound of approaching people.

The girls quickly got up and the three 'ladies-in-waiting' helped the princess fix her attire and hair before bothering with their own. When they finished, they turned and faced who was approaching. Around the bend and towards the castle, which they were out infant of, her father along with his guards and some lords could be seen approaching on horseback.

Eleanor internally cursed herself for forgetting her father was returning today. When the group stopped their horses near the girls and looked to them, the four bowed to the king. "Father," she began as she bowed her head, "I see that you had a good trip." She hoped that it had been a good trip, that way he would be in a good mood.

"The trip was excellent, accept for a few commoners whom we had to remind of their place. We sure did make an example out of them for the others to see didn't we boys." The king let out a hearty chuckle, the rest of his men joining in with the king. "Don't waste too much time out here when you could be doing something more productive." Her father began as the group of men began moving, his cheeriness gone, "Also, remember that you are expected at court later this evening Eleanor." He called over his shoulder.

Eleanor watched her father leave, her stomach churning at the thoughts of what he possibly did to the poor commoners. She closed her eyes and drew a breath in, her smile returning to her face as she turned to the other girls. "Why don't we head inside and get warmed up by the fire with some tea?" The princess suggested, the others agreeing as they headed inside. Eleanor would have to ask Fenros later if he knew what her father did to those commoners, she wanted to figure out a way to fix her father's wrongs. She didn't know how yet, but she would figure something out.

interest is here.

<Snipped quote by Aerandir>

Same, I'm getting a little hype about them lol

Do you guys use discourd? I find it so much easier than pms

Thought I might as well be the late early bird and post my character as well. I'm pretty much done.

Aaron Willum Cordathion [+]

Image [+]

Name:
Aaron Willum Cordathion, The Scarlet

Race/Faction:
The Kingdom

Age:
19

Description:
Prince Aaron is a young, handsome man in his late teens. He’s not particularly imposing at a moderate 5’9, but he carries himself with an air of granted authority. His hands are adorned with many jeweled rings and perched on top of his crop of black hair is a circlet of gold. He’s often dressed in gilded clothes of bright red, with a falconers brace on his left arm. Strapped around his waist is an ever present sword and dagger, both ornate and clumsy due to the absurd amount of gold and jewels bedecking them.

Class:
Prince and Heir

Motivation:
To ensure there is a kingdom to rule once his time to reign comes. As much as Aaron enjoys the leisurely palace life surrounded by riches and luxuries, he knows (when the time comes) that any threat to his rule must be dealt with by the sword. Not his of course, his is for show, no, by the blood of the Vanguard and the Bannermen whose duty is to fight at his whim.

History:
First born son of the high king and first of his name Aaron Willum Cordathion was set aside from birth to be something greater. From his first gasping breath he was treated to the comforts and responsibilities of his mighty station. Only the best tutors, instructors, and philosophers were allowed to teach him in the arts and sciences. Generals and advisors filled his head with knowledge of past battles and great conflicts of both the sword and pen, grooming Aaron to be a great prince, and a greater king.

The King had been blessed with a sharp child who swiftly learned of his power and used it abundantly. At age ten Aaron took partial control of the palace estate under the steward’s supervision, running it with surprising success at a first attempt. At twelve his father began training him in matters of state, even allowing Aaron to travel alone on an important diplomatic meeting. Impressed by his son’s competence the king began sending Aaron on far more diplomatic trips, even at his young age.

One of Aaron’s many pastimes, and easily his favorite, was hunting, falconry, and riding. He grew adept at the sports, and has amassed a collection of favorite horses and falcons, and hounds. When he wasn’t on one of his trips, or working at his studies he could almost always be found in the local woodlands, pursuing some quarry or another in the company of other young nobles and ladies and his ever present shieldman Iben.

Strengths

An accomplished falconer and rider:
Hunting and falconry is the preferred pastime for many nobles, and it is no different for Aaron. He is especially skilled at training and hunting with his falcons and horses.

A Trained Tactician:
All Princes must prepare for war, as is their purpose. Aaron was trained by the best in the ways of war and battle. While he is no military prodigy, he knows his way around the battlefield.

Diplomatically Inclined:
Bribes and politicking comes easy to Aaron. Controlling snobby nobles and obstinate officials is almost second nature, after all he can do much with the Vanguard jumping at a word and the Royal treasury backing him.

Weaknesses

The Stammer:
Laughing at a Prince, even behind his back is risky, but many a cruel heart cannot help themselves when they realize Prince Aaron has a stammer. Something he is mortally embarrassed of. Arron often forces himself to talk slowly and carefully at all times, but should he speak in rapid utterances, or be nervous his stammer can resurface.

Nearly Defenseless:
What Prince leads his army from the front, and what noble crosses steel? Certainly not Aaron. While he has been trained in the basics of combat Aaron has shown little interest and even less skill at blade work. Should he not have his trusted shieldmen with him in dire circumstances, the young prince might find himself spitted on a warrior’s blade.

Precedence:
The ideas must come from him. Aaron is determined to be relevant in all his decisions, not deciding everything off the advice of a counselor. Except he all too often takes this too far, not heeding any wisdom from anyone, determined to find victory and solve problems on his own.

Madness:
Insanity creeps at the corners of Aaron’s disturbed mind, seeking to gain dominance over the young prince. Throughout the ages the kings of old whisper in his mind, seeking control. Though he is sharp witted, and not without understanding of his family’s history of insanity he might one day sink into the sucking cesspool of madness.

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
He is the heir to the throne, a truth that shapes nearly his entire identity and self-worth. Even though he is the king’s second born, he is the eldest and only male son making him the future ruler of the kingdom.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
His unwillingness to listen to the counsel of his advisors and commanders or even his father, an attitude derived from his vanity and self-assuredness and determination to be relevant and set apart from his ancestors.

Why should your character be in a position to influence an entire country?
As the Prince and future King he is a major player in the story to come.

My Hider [+]

Turning in his saddle Prince Aaron switched his gaze from scanning the sky and looked down upon the two men below him. The first was his imposing shieldman Iben, the six foot tall guard who swore his life and sword to defend Aaron. The other, a peasant of little consequence-that was until he got caught poaching in the king’s forest.

“Do you know the punishment for poaching serf?” Aaron spoke in slow deliberate sentences as if each word was well thought out. “A loss of limb for every animal slain, for you are stealing from the noble hunt.” Aaron looked expectantly towards the woodsmen who caught the poacher, while Iben drew his broadsword.

“M’lord, mercy! I was tryin’ to feed me family. Surely ye could find it in ye heart to forgive a hapless sinner whose stomach got th’ better of him.” The peasant dropped to his face groveling in the grass beneath the horses’ feet, tears staining his muddy cheeks. Aaron ignored the man, instead marveling at his hunter mare’s steadiness. She was new and young, and when most horses might’ve been startled by the sudden pile of filth sobbing under hoof she remained steady and unmoved. Aaron made a mental note to gift the stable hand who trained her.

“Three dead rabbits ‘ere ye lordship.” The woodsman said doing a quick count of the poacher’s kills, his rotten teeth set into a nasty grin. “That’s two feet and a hand by my reckonin’. Hehehe.”

“Or two hands and a foot,” Iben growled pinning the peasant down with an armored boot. “At your leave majesty.”

Aaron’s attention returned to the sky where a small black dot could be seen circling above. A smile played at his lips and he waved a hand towards Iben. “Yes, yes carry out the king’s justice, just over there away from the ladies and courtiers.” The doomed man’s sobs grew louder as the woodsmen and Iben dragged him away. Aaron turned towards the disturbance, a malicious light dancing in his eyes. “And oh, it just came to me. Get him home to his family with all his severed limbs, perhaps they can eat those. They are hungry after all.” Chuckling at his own morbid joke Aaron trotted his horse away, raising an arm to greet his returning falcon, a dead rabbit clutched in her talons.

~*~

“Your feet highness, remember your footwork!”

“Stop yelling at me!” Aaron, fought back furiously against his opponent, who to the trained eye looked as if he was struggling to present a challenge without striking the wildly swinging prince. Aaron’s practice blade wove confused patterns making the air hum. His feet shuffling in short clumsy steps, sweat dripping from his nose. They’d only been sparring for a short while, and already his arms were weary.

The blademaster, Aaron’s tutor gnashed his teeth in frustration, unable to truly correct the prince’s form, afraid of offending the young ruler. Not only that, but by cruel fate the Prince was born left handed. Normally the blademaster would force his students to train right handed, at least with the sword, but the prince would have none of that. The blademaster was stuck on the sidelines both literally and figuratively unable to properly train his student.

“Keep your sword up, your opponent could take your head off…” The blademaster gave an exhausted sigh, watching as Aaron’s sword dipped lower and lower. Decapitation would more than likely be the result should Aaron ever face even a remotely competent warrior. On rare days Aaron fought like a wild thing battering down any that faced him giving the blademaster hope of progress. But the very next day he would once again be fighting as if he’d never held a sword before.

The blademaster watched on as the two battled across the castle courtyard, clashing together and apart, one testing the other struggling. Then Aaron slipped, whether it was a patch of moss, or his lumbering feet the blademaster could not say, but he ended up on one knee a surprised look on his face. The prince’s opponent halted in mid swing, showing remarkable skill and self-control. Placing his sword on his shoulder he glanced towards the blademaster for instructions. Before a word of warning could be sounded Aaron’s dull blade snaked out, striking the other man on the temple. The blademaster winced at hearing the dull thud, feeling his own skull spasm in empathy.
“Haha, fool. I am the better fencer!” Aaron sneered, kicking his downed adversary who stayed where he was, holding his ringing head, a pained moan escaping his lips all memory of his earlier misstep forgotten.

Treading over his sparring partner Aaron joined the blademaster, taking a long drought from his wineskin. “How was that then?” He asked, wiping his mouth.

“You are improving my liege.” The blademaster lied, to cowardly to say otherwise.