Thread: Learning from a master (Cheshire x kuro)

A boy of no older than thirteen came skittering into the room, out of breath and panting. Obviously he had ran from the uppermost floors of the Ahn'kir keep to deliver his message. The pages were always frantic, running about as if the fate of the world depended upon the delivery of their messages. Which was good, because sometimes they were given very important words to deliver. Weapons Master, Sir...Your presence is requested in the Matron's Sitting Room. Slowly Vallios turned, eyes full of hatred. They knew he had lessons scheduled until the fifth hour past noon! Damn Beatrix and her blasted agendas! Did she not understand that he had more important things to do than deal with a young woman who thought herself more important than the sun itself? Unfortunately Vallios knew he would have to yield to Beatrix's will, otherwise the woman would hover and nag at him while he was in the forges, or find him during his own practice time and ruin any chance at focusing on the forms. The woman was absolutely insufferable and Vallios wished with all his heart that she'd been taken by an assassin's blade instead of the late Matron. You are dismissed, thank you for your service. As for the rest of you, I'm sure the stablehands need help. Make yourselves useful! It was amazing how loud thirty adolescent males could manage to make a collective groan. But they knew better than to argue with Vallios, the previous Weapons Master had made it quite clear to the class when Vallios took over their lessons that his authority was absolute. Vallios retrieved the heavy, broad bladed falchion that normally rested in a sheath at his hip and the long, leaf shaped dagger from the racks he'd set them on before beginning the lesson. Once properly armed he made his way through the winding halls and spiral staircases of the massive Ahn'kir complex, making haste to the Sitting Room. Best to get this over with as soon as possible so he could see to more pressing matters. If Beatrix expected Vallios to stop and dawn proper attire she would be sorely disappointed. Despite living amongst civilization for sixteen years now, Vallios was still a Baarskor at heart. The lessons and ways of the northern people were ingrained into his very soul and he refused to abandon his culture. While most in the city dressed themselves in the silks and cottons of the various seamstresses and loom-masters, Vallios wore only garments of leathers, furs, and hide he'd hunted personally, stitched by his own hand and bound by catgut he prepared. It took nothing short of a royal ultimatum to force Vallios into the ceremonial garb of the ahn'kir weapons master. Today he wore a pair of simple leather leggings and a black-dyed hide vest that seemed more of a harness, crossing in an X from shoulder to hip, his feet covered by sturdy but still supple leather shoes. Most of the guards bowed as Vallios passed, acknowledging his new station without thought. However some of the older, grizzled veterans watched Vallios pass with marked distrust. They could still remember the Baarskor raid that had brought Vallios into the city. At twelve years of age Vallios had been one of the barbarians leading the charge, mounted like his brethren astride a massive bear with fur whiter than the coldest snow, riding in perfect formation beside the War-chieftain of the Northern Tribes. The vision of thousands upon thousands of barbarians pouring down from between the Bleak Fangs into the Everend valley was fresh in their minds. A howling, savage flood of flesh that had threatened to drown the entire kingdom in a river of blood. Townships and hamlets had been razed to the ground without a single warrior breaking charge, a relentless push fueled by inhuman rage with the Baarskor, Bearhearts at the front of the tide. The siege had lasted for months, and ended when the Ruling Council created the Frozen River treaties, halting any attempts to expand their nation's borders into the unforgiving frozen North. But how had Vallios ended up staying in the city? The answer was one of mercy. Vallios had been part of the raiding party that broke through the Imperial City's fortifications. House Ahn'kir's army had been the first to fight within the city and had been nearly overwhelmed by the Baarskor tribe. Fortunately for House Ahn'kir and it's Weapons Master reinforcements from the other Ruling Houses arrived and the Baarskor tribe was laid low to a man. Vallios had been the last warrior of his tribe and had managed to keep the Weapons Master himself engaged in mortal combat despite his age. Instead of delivering the killing blow Vis'karr had knocked the young boy unconscious, seeing a potential protege. A prisoner of war, with no family or friends alive Vallios had sworn his fealty to the man who had bested him in honorable combat. For sixteen years now Vallios had served house Ahn'kir faithfully and without resentment. Though he kept the memory of his people alive at every opportunity. Given his current speed and direction, Vallios was pretty much guaranteed to run straight across Beatrix's path. And that would be a most....Unpleasant surprise. Vallios absolutely loathed being caught alone with the woman.