Thread: Lost Dragons ((Myself and Serin))

Max had woken early as he often did. The inn was still quite when he rose from the bed and then donned his traveling garb silently. He moved with the practice ease of a man who was used to being out on the road rather than at home, he quickly found the small wash basin and used to rinse his face and then strapped the ornate long sword to his hips before once more shouldering the larger sword and securing it to his back. He tossed a few coins on the counter of his room for whoever was tasked with cleaning up the rooms and then made his way out into the city even as it was just waking. He had a set of decent enough clothes stowed back on kaiser but if he was going to see merchants, artisans, and eventually the court it occurred to him that he might need a bit more. So first he headed outside the city and back to his home in those early morning hours and retrieved a tightly wrapped parcel from his dresser. He had not worn it since he had attended the funerals of his father and the king but it was the sort of finery expected of a proper Knight. He then retrieved a small lock box from his desk and opened it, inside lay a signet ring, a pendant with his family crest, and a bound volume whose pages held proof of his lineage... marks of a noble birth. He sighed a bit and shook his head, it was something he was not particularly proud or fond of to be honest. Somewhere down the family lineage the knights of his line had been wed to various daughters or sons of noble birth, never any heirs to the throne mind you but nobility just the same. He was glad though that his mother had been a simple attendant to the queen and his father a knight... he had grown up here outside the city and though he visited the royal courts had never been forced into being a part of them. He secured the lock box and the parcel holding his court finery. He made his way back to the city with a practiced stride. He noticed the merchants were setting up for the day and he purchased some sweet bread for his breakfast as well as a few packages of local blends of tea to take with him. He made his way back to the ship even before the merchants had brought their wears to be shipped. He was not sure what they wanted him to do, especially as his skills lay mainly in swordplay and the occasional need for diplomacy if he was on familiar terms with those he was dealing with. In the end he simply checked on Kaiser and stowed his things there before sealing up the impressive Guymelef once more. He then double checked to make sure the large beige traveling cloak still hid the true nature of his Guymelef and that the crimson cloak affixed to its shoulders was neatly hidden beneath the traveling garb. When he was satisfied with that he made his way up to the deck where he saw everyone busying themselves starting the days work. He found a quite and secluded corner of the deck behind the captains cabin and sat down with his long sword in his lap and the great sword he carried laying in front of him and closed his eyes. It was an old practice and most swordsman never bothered with it anymore but max found that centering himself and clearing his mind every so often was rather helpful. By the time the others were into the full swing of the things and Bridget was looking out over the deck he was making his way out towards the front of the ship. There he began to go through sword forms his motions were smooth and practiced. He started slowly and elegantly at first and when he finished with the long sword he began the same exercise with the great sword. He took a short meal break to find some food in the galley and then returned to the deck for further practice. By the time afternoon rolled around and the day was warming up he felt a bit warm and so carefully removed his jacket and shirt folding them neatly and then began to go through his forms though this time with a bit more speed and force. By the time he took up the great sword again there was a light sheen of sweat to his muscled form. By this point Max had switched back to the long sword once more and it sliced through air with the sound of rushing wind. The glint of the afternoon light on his sword seemed the perfect match to the way the light reflected off that light sheen of sweat on his tanned skin. He was oblivious to any who might have looked his way as he performed this dangerous dance that set his powerfully corded muscled rippling with practiced motions that came as easily to him as his next breath.