Furry-Within

He found himself in a sort of daze, mostly just ignoring everything that was going by after his fight. He found himself sitting at the tables, nestled with other recruits. He didn't really have the appetite to eat as heartily as the others were around him, instead too focused on taking in his surroundings. He began to commit the layout of the Keep to memory; it'd serve useful later. Especially if he wanted to keep the charade up.

His ears perked when he caught what the scholar said about permissions. So long as he wore the armor and weapons,  he would have rank? That meant if he made his way up through the ranks, people would eventually not question him. This had to be a sign. He'd have to bide his time, and grit his teeth, if all to get to the right place, at the right time.

Still, for now, he was going to use this time as a time of rest. This was his first, big step. Everything seemed to be falling into place, now.

They silently paced around the medical room, the Healers, their sewn shut eyes and throats the mark of their job. They saw through magic, healing the wounds of the guards, recruits and the Lord Captain through their strange sight. The Bastard however was different, one of them had taken over the head healer to the Bastard's bed and showed her . . . the Bastard was different. In their sight he was a black figure, almost no details to his form. All things had magical energy, even the smallest insects had a trace that could be seen by the Healers, but this Bastard . . . the King's Bastard, was blank. Nothing in him. They argued in their twisted silence for moments about how to handle him.

Finally the Head Healer took to him, covering his chest with a thin oil, it illuminated the details of his body carefully with magical energy, this allowed her to see the wounds, as she worked on his wounds, his ribs, the cuts and infections, and the damage to his lungs some of the other healers gathered around him, they were concerned about her working on a blank figure. They had never seen such a person before. The Scholar would need to see this man, see what they had seen . . . and the Lord Captain would need to know as well.

The Lord Captain soon woke up, long before the Bastard was healed and found to be a blank figure. He argued with one of the Healers, his body wrapped mostly in bandages, splotches of blood covering him and the stitches showing all over. He pushed his way out of the medical room, moving to the Feasting Hall, still in his greaves, leaving a small trail of blood behind him still. His breathing was hard and he waited until the Scholar was finished talking to the new Recruits before entering and taking his place at the head of the table. He ate in perfect silence, drinking down the wine, his body is a twisted and blood covered form, hard wheezing breaths taken in and out. He looked from recruit to recruit, wondering which ones would succeed, and which ones would fail. At least half of these people would die in pain and agony.

The harsh reality of the Myrzar, it was an image of being a calm and possibly complacent guard patrolling the city. The idea most had of the Myrzar was just to catch cutpurses and attempted murderers and punish them. But in fact, the Myrzar more often spies, assassin's and what the Lord Captain personally called the "Sentinel Squad" a group of advanced Myrzar who trained so hard at battle mastery that no one could face them down. The Lord Captain himself had been a Sentinel long ago, and if anything, he would train up the Bastard after he survived that hit. The Hybrid was still in his eyes, he knew something was wrong with the boy. He didn't look like he belonged in the Kingdom, perhaps the Lord Captain would get a chance soon to find out.

Sat in silence and seclusion from the boys.  She may have bested one of them, but she was still a girl.  In truth the feline preferred that as she took small bites.  She didn't touch the choice dishes as she didn't feel as if it were her place, instead she ate the less fancy meats and cheeses.

In the end she ate very little, only eating enough to keep her from starving for sitting with her head bowed in reflection though her ears swiveled and followed the movement and conversation around her.

He didn't like how the Lord Captain was eyeballing him, but he ignored it pretending he didn't even register those eyes trained on him. He just had to prove his worth-- to get to a point where no one could question him. It was going to be a long road, but he figured that he at least had the determination to do it, if nothing else. He couldn't let anything stop him, not after getting this far. He just had to find--

"Hey! Nice goin out there! You were that guy that flipped the huge brute over and started wailing, right?" He heard, from down the table. His ears perked and he looked over, giving a surprised nod. "Man, that was some good shit. You pounded the shit out of his face. Good on ya." He forced a smile, but easily made it look genuine. "What's yer name, man? I gotta tell people not to mess with you."

He paused, still remembering he was being watched. But it didn't matter at this point. All traces led back to that couple, who took him in. He'd made sure of it. "Ormr." He said, his voice a soft, but resonant tenor. "Just call me Ormr."

 Panic was all he knew when he awoke in a strange place, In a strange bed.
   he was instantly awake, His head moved back and fourth as he checked his surroundings. It took a long moment before he figured out where he was, It took even longer for him to remember what happened the day before. How long as he been out? Why did they even bother to save his life?
His fingers touched his ribs, they where all broken the night before? By all rights he should be dead. Injuries like this often spelled death, or at least crippling a fur month's at a time.
  What was the point of living? He knew he failed, what was the point of returning to that shit hole of a life? There really was no point in going on.
He stared out the window, ignoring his hunger. He felt greasy, unclean and worse...A failure. His one shot at changing his star's gone.
His jaws clenched, as he made his way to the door. Quietly slipping out, maybe if he got to the fields he wouldn't loose a days pay. His eye's looked around. unable to figure out where he was. Slowly he simply wandered around. looking for a way out.

One of the Guards patrolling the halls found the King's Bastard and caught him by the shoulder. "Oi, recruits are supposed to be in the training yard, what the hell are you doing in the halls? get down there now!" and pointed out the window down to the crowds of recruits, still in their normal clothes fighting each other with blunted metal weapons and wooden shields, others shooting arrows at targets shaped like people.

The Lord Captain paced along the yard, watching each recruit in their stations, that morning he had asked them what they did best, and assigned them to things similar and promised they would train the opposite just as hard. "A True Myrzar is no stronger than their weakest quality" he reminded them again. "Neglect nothing in your training or you're as good as dead. The woman from before was proving to be a talented one with a bow, and the rest were showing themselves to be worth their time too. Even the ones that hadn't actually fought, he was still heavily bandaged, and one could see the blood dripping down out of the few crevices in his armor as he paced. As good a job as the Healers did, he was still bleeding. this group looks to be training up fine . . . the hard part is picking out which ones will be right for the team . . . he thought, looking over them all once more.

He looked at the guard incredulously. his head turned from the yard to the guard and back again.
  "Sorry sir, you must have me confused? I lost my combat initiation. Are you sure your referring to me?"
   A spark of hope playing in his eyes for a long moment.
     

She also did well enough in hand to hand combat but she was weak in all other areas as she'd never been trained in anything else.

The Guard pointed him toward a doorway leading to a set of stairs and said. "Not my place to know . . . you're here, so obviously you're in . . . get to the yard or you WILL be out." The Guard then patrolled off down the hall, turning back to look at the Bastard every so many steps.

Down in the yard, the Lord Captain was still pacing past the recruits. watching them all work against each other and against the training dummies. He was curious how the recruits would shape up when the time came for the choosing of the small team. It would be interesting . . . seeing how they react to that offer. Great job on training, by the way I want you to come with me to be part of a sort of death squad . . . oh don't worry, it only sounds bad. He shook his head, laughing softly at the thought while he kept pacing.

This had been potentially his first mistake. When he'd been asked what he did best, he couldn't find an answer-- and thus had been sent to perform every sort of training until they found what he was good at.

Tired, but still determined, he was now training in using a sword and shield. He went at it with gusto, mimicking moves he'd seen the instructors teach with ease, but not with the same effectiveness. If anything, he was a quick learner and could potentially do just about anything required, but needed the time to hone a particular skill in order to make it usable.

It dawned on him, in the middle of training, what he should be doing. As his opponent came crashing down upon him, swords locked, an idea struck him to use his shield as an offensive tool, and not solely a defensive one. He pushed off and gave his opponent a firm smack with the wooden guard, throwing the other off balance. He used the opportunity to lay it into the other, stopping at the instructor's cue.

"Quick thinking there, Ormr." His instructor said. He nodded, heaving breaths. The hybrid wasn't exactly physically built to be doing this sort of thing for long, and he was glad he was able to seize the advantage. [Seize the advantage?] He thought, the idea sparking within him.

As soon as he was able to get out of his training gear, he began to work with tacticians and field advisors. It soon became apparent that Ormr had a knack for assessing a situation and devising strategies to deal with it. Which required he also have practical knowledge of the various troops involved in a type of combat, so he couldn't slack on his physical training either.

The instructor for the field advisors watched him carefully as he worked with the map and figures, he called over the Lord Captain to watch too, but to watch someone else, while the Hybrid was of interest, the feline was also interesting, she seemed capable of taking down much larger opponents without a weapon. The Lord Captain nodded and moved closer to where she was, watching her style carefully. She was trained . . . likely by someone small similar to herself. Someone who knew how to fight very well, she was not a razor edge with her skills yet, but she was no blunted blade either. He thought carefully that he may have the first member of the team in line. If she could fight with a dagger half as well as she could with her fists, she'd be perfect. Perhaps she was acrobatic enough even to sneak . . . hmm.

"yessir"
   That little smile played on his lips, perhaps the gods are kind after all.
His smile faded when he saw the lord Captain, on instinct alone he moved across the field. Starting with the area furthest away.
   His fingers ran along the racks of blunted steel swords. Getting a feel for them he hefted one. and then another, the weight itself was very close to his wooden sword. there where so many of them! It was hard to choose!
Short sword, longsword, scimitars, bastard swords, daggers and dirks.  A frown played on his lips first. Unsure which to choose.
  He looked around first strapping on some practice armor.
      Well... theres only one way to find out...
he pulled a couple of sword belts strapping one of each to his body. Getting the feel of it. Trying to decide, when one of the instructors caught him.
   "You There! what do you think your doing?"
  The panther jumped.
       "I.." Was all he got when he was shoved into the training ring.
  " You get in the ring with him"!
      The panther looked across the way as another boy with a longsword stepped into the ring. He Swallowed rather hard, after all it was a rather large boy.
      "Start"!
  With that it began, the boy swinging his sword before the panther was even close to ready. The panther turned. Catching the sword against the sheath, His fingers by himself drew the closest sword. A single swipe he disarmed the boy. His other reaching for the curved blade across the back braining the poor guy.
  For a moment the instructor was silent. "Oh so you think your a walking sword stand do you! you, you and you" He picked out three more boys sending them against the panther.
  Again the panther did the same thing, spinning and drawing swords. Throwing others, until all three where down. This  enraged the instructor.
  " oh so we got a show off, Alright then class after him"!!
  The whole class paused for a moment, but it was one wolf who spoke out.
           "But thats not fair"
  "Fine then, you can be on his team. Class surround them"
      The panther found himself back to back with the wolf. 12 students surrounding them.
   The panther knew he could not cover all his angles, he spoke softly to the wolf.
  "Stay back to back with me.."
          His wolf partner only grunted his reply.
  When they came he was a whirling dervish of blades, Parrying on instinct swirling around his wolf partner, covering his ends  as they moved around each other. The panthers natural instinct kept him out of the way of his partner. Just somehow knowing where his partner would be.
   The battle itself took less than a couple of minutes, but it felt like forever. His armor dented in more than one place. he stood there breathing heavily.
  The instructor moved in trembling slightly as he grabbed the panther by the ear. hauling him to the lord captain.

The Lord Captain was now sitting on a sort of cushion at the edge of the yard, laughing softly with a strangely long pipe between two fingers. A small trail of white smoke leading up from it, twisting in the air and filling the space around him with a strange scent like cinnamon. "Problem old man? you look like you're not satisfied with your new student." He chuckled softly as the man threw the bastard at his feet. "He thinks he's the best . . . well I think maybe you should show him what he really is Lord Captain! prove to him how little he's really worth."

The Lord Captain shook his head and took a long silent drag on the pipe, slowly letting out a fog of smoke around his face that obscured his features. "If the Bastard has proved better than your class . . . I'd say you're slipping in your training." He chuckled softly, small puffs of smoke coming from his nostrils and mouth with each tiny laugh. "Maybe if you focused more on the students' talents rather than your own . . . like her . . ." he pointed to the sole recruit who was female, on the other side of the yard. "If my eyes weren't lying to me . . . and I know they were not, she took down two of young Moristan's students who were both 4 years her senior." The old Instructor was still mad, glaring daggers down at the panther.

He hit the ground rather hard.
    why is it everywhere i go, trouble fallows?
He spoke quietly. keeping his eyes on the ground.
        "Thats not true lord captain, I was just trying on swords to see what fits best..."
He could feel his face heating up, The feel of the instructor's eyes burning into the side of his head.

The Lord Captain exhaled another long breath of the white smoke, causing a slight haze that seemed to make the glaring instructor sound distant, and the Lord Captain put a hand on the Panther's chin, the two of them looking to be alone in a white fog. "Don't bother with him . . . he's mad at your father . . . I tell you what . . . you're proving to be everything I've heard . . . go down there, to old Morristan, tell him I sent you . . . he'll treat you as hard as I would, but at least he'll know the difference between you and your father." He let go of the Panther's chin, the fog gone, just the smoke obscuring his features as he looked at the Instructor and said "he's not in your class regardless . . . so take the belt, and the swords from him and the rest is up to his real instructor . . ." The Instructor next to the Bastard was clenching his fists tightly, like he was trying to hold in a scream. "Is there a problem . . . if you like, we can resolve it in the ring . . . like we did the night you gathered me from my home before the moon had escaped the thick clouds." The Instructor seemed almost shaken by the reference to the past, he grew silent and took the belt and swords from the Bastard and moved off to his students again, grumbling and smacked the wolf that had stood at the Bastard's back.

The Instructor watching the hand to hand matches was proud of the feline, she was not the normal kind of recruit they had, she was a woman in fact. Tiny too . . . but she was skilled, she'd already taken down two of her fellow students who were both 4 years older than her. And now he was looking for something to really test her.