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 Posted: Thu Nov 01, 2012 6:25 pm
 Quilzar lurched forward from his back when he saw Marltok go behind. Good thing too; he felt the blade of the scull crusher pull against his shirt, and he heard the tearing of fabric from back to side. The next attack he was certain was meant to goad him into attacking. Like he was going to take that bait. He brought his sword hand down on top of Marltok’s fist, sword pointing up, to block the small punch that came when they were facing once again. The quick set of attacks that came next was extremely hard to counter. One thing was particularly clear, two of the attacks were aimed at his top half, and one was for his lower body. He knew he had to take one half of the attacks, meaning top or bottom.
Considering that he had a blade coming for his top half, he let the hook to his left knee bring him down, thus avoiding the fist and the scull crusher. He kicked his right leg out to a diagonal, balancing himself. A jiffy later, he launched himself towards Marltok’s abdomen, bracing his right shoulder for the impact. As he did this, he brought his right knee forward to knee Marltok’s thigh. The best outcome would end up with both of them on the floor with Quilzar in a good position to get back up quickly enough to will a kill point with his sword point at Marltok’s neck. He doubted it, but it would be worth the try.
((Just tell me if this needs clarification >< I'm sure we'll meet on Meebo about it sometime anyways ^^'))
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Posted: Wed Nov 07, 2012 12:56 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd Marltok didn't bother to defend himself from Quilzar's fist when it came down on top of his own. The blade of the skull crusher was enough of a handguard. He was just surprised Quilzar hadn't simply stepped back, which meant he couldn't use the attack he'd intended to. It was such a strange way of rebalancing too. Marltok's frown looked like he was not impressed but really he was curious. The man fought well enough that there had to be some reason to the move.
The goblin took the charge to his abdomen for two reasons. One, he didn't have the right stance to push forward. Two, it made it so much easier to slam the point of the skull crushers down on Quilzar's head and injured shoulder. At the very last moment he switched so the palm of the weapon would strike Quilzar instead. Marltok would not break the rules of sparring.
Quilzar's strike to the left thigh landed, causing Marltok to shift his stance so his weight was on his bad leg. He had to pull his left leg back and his right leg wobbled at the waist. If it had set anything off Marltok would have found himself flat on his back and no doubt having a seizure. Marltok cursed as he retreated another step. If he didn't keep it together he'd find himself outmatched and no doubt regressing. That was all too far forward for Marltok to think about now though. He had to keep his mind clear and his wits sharp if he was to even come to a stalemate with this drow. He had to seriously start working out what aspects of martial arts the man's style relied upon so he could work out what the flaws of the style were. It made Marltok wish he knew more about swordsmanship. With that, Marltok waited for Quilzar to attack, already with a few moves in mind.
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Posted: Wed Nov 07, 2012 1:52 am
Quilzar moved quickly to the side after figuring out that Marltok wouldn't fall. At least the knee to the Goblin's thigh hit. He nearly smiled when he saw a missed attack from the corner of his eye. Most assuredly, Marltok's other hand would be ready for defence. It surprised him when he felt the impact to his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he refused to cry out in his pain. He darted back as soon as he felt the strike land. A grimace crossed his face as he felt the muscles in his shoulder tighten up. It shouldn't surprise him; during the entire fight he felt his arm trying to move from its sling. The muscles were probably stressed out and fighting the desire to use the injured hand wasn't helping at all. From the corner of his eye, he saw Marltok retreat another step or so. Though he wanted to retreat more himself, he knew he had to push his advantage. He moved with Marltok. If he could just injure the left leg enough, then Marltok would have to depend on his already bad leg.
Attacking with the hilt of his sword, he jabbed a few places in quick succession. First came the ribs on Marltok's left side, then his hip, and then the place that was kneed on his thigh. When he started the second jab, his right leg kicked Marltok's left ankle and foot. If there was any hit that made contact, he hoped that one was it. He'd kicked out hard enough to hopefully fracture some part of the ankle, and if he landed it just right, some parts of the foot as well. The jabs would hurt well enough to be sure, but he wanted to hurt Marltok as much as he was hurting. Suddenly, he wished he was just a bit taller; Shynt had favoured a head-butt attack, but he had height on his side. Quilzar didn't. Oh well, no use dwelling on what you couldn't use. Instead of that, once the jab to the thigh was complete, Quilzar switched to using the blade of his sword, drawing it across Marltok's thigh. The Drow thought that surely something must hit.
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Posted: Thu Nov 08, 2012 10:17 pm
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd As suspected, Quilzar came forward when Marltok moved back. Marltok was ready by the time the sword came towards him. He punched it aside. He still didn't have any assumptions about the drow's fighting style other than how "stuffy" he found most sword styles but he trusted in the skull crusher he'd used to block. Any fancy move the drow tried to play would easily slide off the skull crusher's blade and if he was lucky it would get caught in the joint between the spine and the blade. All Marltok would have to do then was use his own arm as leverage against the sword's flat and he'd be able to knock the sword from the man's injured hand. He wasn't sure if the drow would know enough about skull crushers to predict the move so hopefully he'd know enough to withdraw before he lost his weapon. Even though Marltok was sparring the man he still wanted someone who could equal or better him. What was the point in training with someone of less skill than he? On the other hand, Marltok did see his sparring as rehabilitation rather than training. If it looked like his condition would regress he would yield.
The jabs were easy to block. It was almost as though Quilzar was taunting the goblin to attack. Marltok did return with a job of his own but his other hand was ready for whatever Quilzar would do with that sword next. If it was anything too tricky Marltok would simply grab the man's right arm and twist the... nope, it wasn't a sword attack that came next. Marltok's foot skidded across the smooth, wooden floor an his good knee hit the floor. As he fell he held his left arm up in a blocking formation and the right slashed out across from the left of Quilzar's stomach then down the outside of his right leg. As soon as he thought Quilzar would back off he threw his arms back and thrust his good leg high in the air to kick the other man down. If it failed Marltok was ready to use his own momentum to throw himself back into a standing position.
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Posted: Thu Nov 08, 2012 11:04 pm
While Quilzar wasn't familiar with scull crushers themselves, he was more than familiar with weapons that had similar builds. So when his sword got caught by the spine, he quickly pulled his weapon back so he wouldn't loose it. He would have to be more careful about that in the future. Near and far. As for the jab, he took it, realizing that it wasn't much of an attack. He was just glad when his kick landed, sending Marltok to the ground. Looks like his jabs were enough to distract the goblin for just long enough. He watched as Marltok went to the ground with a heavy thump, and he was ready to advance when he had to counter his momentum to dodge the scull crusher. He took a step or two back, catching the blade just above his boots.
When the Drow saw the kick headed straight for his bad side, he straightened himself to take the blow. He put his left leg out behind him to account for the sheer force behind the kick. Lifting his bad arm, causing sharp pain to shoot up and down his arm and all through his torso, he made ready to grab the leg. Once the kick hit, he clamped his arm down quickly, causing more pain. The impact forced the air from his lungs, making him think even harder about what he had intended to do. As if it were instinctual, he brought his elbow up to hit the goblin's knee. Once the hit was finished, he darted back a few steps, hoping he'd bought himself enough time to glance at the bandage and to catch his breath. Quilzar was more than certain that move didn't help his healing process, and sure enough, there was a pink blossom of colour where he'd been stabbed the night before.
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Posted: Thu Nov 08, 2012 11:41 pm
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd Marltok grunted in respect when the man had enough sense not to let his sword get forced from his hand. It would have ended all too quickly and mostly likely bloody on Quilzar's part. It was good the skull crusher hadn't sliced the man open either. The nick to the drow's leg was enough of a hit to count but not enough to damage. Although Marltok was not being "soft" in his attacks, he did not want to actually damage his sparring companion.
The kick hit but it meant the goblin's foot was pressed firmly against the drow's torso when the drow elbowed the goblin. It hurt. Marltok gritted his teeth. That ankle would be puffy as well as bruised tomorrow if this kept up. The goblin sure as hell did not want to be sore for tomorrow's practice. In order to stop from being attacked, Marltok attacked again, this time swinging his better leg around then at the drow's head. It went over. He didn't actually want to kick the drow with his injured ankle. The real attack was the goblin's arms. He crossed his arms over his chest and sliced outwards, which meant one went up the drow's torso and the other would come rather close to the man's family jewels. For a second Marltok was facing away from the drow, which was a very dangerous place to land. Instead of backing away, however, Marltok stepped backwards, hoping to get his left foot between Quilzar's feet. He curled his fists and elbowed backwards, following the momentum of his step. If this worked and the drow moved backwards with him, Marltok would hook his foot behind Quilzar's leg and destabilise the drow's base.
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Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2012 12:32 am
Quilzar ducked the kick, and looked up in time to see the blade head towards him. He put his blade up to defend from both strikes as he staggered back. Once he saw Marltok's back towards him, he sent the hilt of blade towards the back of his head as he pushed against the goblin, trying to keep from tripping. He had felt the leg go in between his, and he knew its purpose was to take what little balance he had at the moment away from him.
The ferocious battle went on for an hour in much the same manner it had. Quilzar knew that he was fading much too quickly. He felt his shoulder becoming more and more moist as they fought. During the fight, he'd been forced to drop his sword. For a few moments, he'd fought with his single unarmed hand before he reached behind him and took a hidden dagger from the sheathe made especially for the small of his back. The Drow kept a careful eye out for openings, waiting for the moment that he could move and earn a kill point. And fortunately for him, and his shoulder, he found it when he least expected it. He took it, and moved forward to set his blade against Marltok's neck. For a moment or so, he thought he'd won. Then he felt a sharp pressure near his sternum.
With a half smile, he looked at a blade wielded by a light green hand. He cocked his head towards Marltok's head, not looking directly into his eyes.
"So, kill point for both. I'm not sure about you, but this was a good match. Why don't we give it a rest before the both of us have two bad sides?" More than obvious was the blood seeping from the shoulder bandage so much so that it even started sticking to his shirt. He had blood coming from his temple from a head attack that had half hit. And to top everything, his wrist was incredibly sore. Yes, he now saw the folly of keeping his brace off.
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Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2012 1:27 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd Marltok had his teeth bared and was perfectly ready to push forward, even though he had a blade at his throat. He wasn't about to stop fighting until someone officially ended the fight. Even as Quilzar spoke he didn't take his eyes of the man's sword. Marltok nodded, pushed Quilzar off him then took a few step back.
'Agreed,' Marltok replied, thus ending the pact that came with every sparring match. Only then did he wipe his weapons on his shirt, which would need darning at some point. At least one good thing came out of the fight - he'd managed to force Quilzar into taking up a secondary weapon.
His bad leg wobbled and if it hadn't been for the brace he would have fallen. His better leg hadn't fared well in the fight. Quilzar had seemed adamant to cut Marltok's leg from under him. He'd nearly managed with one swipe he'd taken. There was now a large gash on the lateral side of Marltok's left thigh that would need stitches. It was only a finger in length but it had cut into the muscle. Marltok wasn't happy about it. It showed bad form. He wouldn't have lasted the day if it had been a real battle. He also had a few other bruises and his left ankle would be swollen by this time tomorrow but he was less upset about them.
'Be back here by 1530 hours local time,' Marltok ordered. He then marched off, putting a lot of weight on his left leg. The drow may have done a bit of damage to it but it was still in a better state than his braced leg. Marltok hobbled back to his quarters. With his attention on his leg, he only closed his door instead of locking it. His bad leg was shaking and the other was bleeding. Given what could happen, the bad leg took precedence.
Just like he'd suspected, the muscles had clamped tight. He muttered to himself about elves and dwarves as he gripped the wrist of his right hand with his left. He used the muscles of his back and both arms to rub down the leg. The tension was sure to set off a seizure so he had to work as fast as possible to release it. Unfortunately for Marltok, he knew nothing about massage. It was all trial and error for him and what he did do was little better than if he'd simply shouted at it. He could relax the muscles but they often ended up as sore as he'd started and it still hurt the next day. He'd long accepted the pain to be part of the initial injury. Pain was part of life. Sulking only stopped you from getting on with what needed doing.
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2012 4:43 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd The time was 1447 hours and the goblin was well into a warm down routine. He was thoroughly enjoying it too. The potion he'd been given had worked a treat. He'd splashed and rubbed it into his leg as though he'd been given a single dose. He'd had enough to rub it into both blade wounds he'd received from Quilzar, one small stab wound to the right thigh and the slice to the left, and even a little extra to try on the arcane scar on his right leg. It hadn't done anything but it was worth a try. He'd have to find out what other healing potions the drow had then, when he got home, compare them to the official documents of the Bekkenüdd Horde, Security Network and maybe even present them to the elves. In fact, presenting them to the High Court would be the first thing he did with them. Maybe then they'd see fit to share some of their secrets with him, though they'd probably expect more before they welcomed him in any way. Hefeieldaen had always made it clear Marltok was not an elf, not that Marltok blamed him or even cared. He had no issues with his father. Marltok's obsession more leaned towards learning about his heritage than being bitter about his father.
In preparation for his lesson, Marltok had brought with him the one piece of information technology that didn't connect in any way to Mothernet. It was an "obsidian slate", a piece of earth daemon and gnomic technology and one of the many products the technology division supplied the market with. A slate is a flat piece of obsidian that remembers everything ever written upon its surface in the order by which it is written. Anything written or drawn upon its surface can be recalled by the person who knows what they are looking for, so long as they know the vocal key required to unlock the device. Different pressures pressed onto the surface by the matching quill created different glowing marks upon the polished, black surface. Many encyclopaedias and books were written this way because obsidian was easy to create, easy to embed magic into and hypothetically lasted longer than paper or mundane means of recording information. Marltok's horde presented his for being accepted into Higher Nesslock. It contained every diagram, battle plan and piece of information he'd written upon it stored with the time and date in which he wrote it. All he had to do was recall any title, key word or time and he'd be able to move through the entries in the order of which he requested them (for example, newest first). It was a marvellous device but one he had to be very careful with. Even though it was locked to his orders there was still the possibility one could steal it and crack into it. It was far too easy to reveal secrets through an obsidian slate, which was exactly why Marltok never wrote anything personal (personal meaning those dreary journals people wrote about themselves) in his and changed the locking device on a fortnightly basis.
By the time Marltok was finished warming down it was not yet time for Quilzar to arrive but not late enough for him to go for a walk. He paced back and forth along the water's edge outside the dojo, keeping an eye on the sports bag he had his belongings in. Marltok wasn't the type to sit still in quiet contemplation and it would do his muscles good to move at such a relaxed pace. It was better than looking like some whelp that didn't know what to do with itself (a whelp being an insulting word for child or someone who could not take care of themselves). Besides, Marltok liked to walk or keep moving. He may have had three seizures that day but it did not bother him in any way. It had always taken a lot more than a few physical injuries to take Marltok down. He walked with no more nor less difficulty then he normally did. Anyone would think today's injuries had never happened. He supposed he had Quilzar to thank for that. The man had misbehaved but he had Marltok's interests at heart.
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2012 5:30 am
Quilzar went down to the dojo, cursing the sun as he went. Squinting his eyes against the sunlight, he walked around the water's edge, looking for useful plants. After having given one of his stronger potions to Marltok, he knew he'd have to make a new one soon. The crux of the problem was finding the proper plants to do it with. With a sigh, he lamented not having the use of many of the fungus found in the Underdark on the surface. He caught sight of a plant or two at the edge of the water. Bending down, he examined the reed-like plant and smiled. It was something he could use for a minor potion. Not as strong a one as the one made for Marltok, but still a useful one. He picked the plants and put them in his thigh bag as he stood. Along the way, the Drow found a few other plants, and even some mushrooms. The mushrooms made him particularly happy, but there was still the sun to contend with.
A few moments later, he found Marltok about ten minutes before the appointed time. Putting a stoic look on his face, he put his hands in his pockets and walked up to him. More than stoic, however, his expression was more guarded. He didn't know what to say, if anything, to the goblin. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked out to the water. Wincing when a glare hit his eyes, he closed his eyes and looked away. Damn, he couldn't even enjoy looking at the water's surface any more. He sighed again, and opened his mouth as if to say something. Nothing came out. He was lost for words. Perhaps the situation didn't call for words. As for lessons, he didn't know how to start them. Great Hells, he barely even remembered how any of his lessons started. If anything, his Masters would just leap head-first into the information. Ever had he been a student, and now that he was called upon to teach, he had no idea how to do it.
Instead of saying anything, he closed his mouth and waited for Marltok to start. Besides, it might be better to get any and all questions out of the way. Perhaps that would be the lesson for the day. Just a barrage of questions to get him started, then he could plan something around that.
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2012 6:48 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd Marltok stopped when he saw Quilzar walking towards him. It was lucky he'd seen the drow otherwise he might have found himself in a headlock for surprising the goblin. It never ceased to puzzle Marltok how elves could possibly walk so quietly. They walked like the dead. Come to think of it, Quilzar looked like it too - he looked like he was sulking about something again. What in all Earth's skeleton could be wrong now?! It had been too long since Marltok had sent the man away. Surely Quilzar wasn't those wet elves who flopped across every couch they saw? The very thought disgusted Marltok. He was not going to spend the next six months picking up that elf's tears.
'Quilzar, walk beside me,' Marltok ordered. Without waiting to see if Quilzar hurried his pace or even followed him. He just assumed that, as a slave, he would do his bidding. Anything less would be punished, which would teach the slave to keep pace next time he saw fit to lag. Goblin logic was good logic.
'Your potion worked. Thank you,' Marltok stated rather suddenly. He didn't stop in his pace or even look at Quilzar when he said it. He might as well have stated the sun was in the sky today. When he was done it was as though he hadn't said anything at all. He just picked his black bag up from beside the dojo doorway and turned to face the man. Without warning he punched the man in the biceps hard enough for the man to leave a bruise. It was enough for Quilzar to get the message without being excessively cruel.
'First, you leave when I tell you to leave. Second, don't ever assume you have any authority over me,' the goblin said, the last part with more force than was probably necessary. He stopped, looked at the man before him then got out the empty potion vial from the side pocket. It was wrapped in a leather pouch then rinsed repeatedly with tap water, since Marltok had no way of knowing how soap would react with it. He pressed it into Quilzar's hand before continuing. 'The reasons I have not punished your further are because you were trying to help and I am grateful that it worked. Choose where you want to teach and we will begin.'
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Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2012 8:29 am
Quilzar quickened to be about a pace behind Marltok. 'Beside' could be such a subjective term couldn't it? His head jerked in Marltok's direction when he heard the gratitude. That was completely unexpected, but he also gave a light scoff. It wasn't as if he expected Marltok to just flat out trust him, but come on, he wasn't that bad. He took his hands from his pockets to put them behind his back. Instead of responding to the thanks, he shook his head and looked towards the forest. Great Hells Marltok was confusing. Sending him away, then telling him he was grateful for the interference. He wanted to tell the goblin to make up his ******** mind. When Marltok moved to be in front of him, he had a feeling what was coming, so he took the punch.
His brow furrowed; the strike didn't come nearly as hard as he expected. It was Marltok's words that gave him more trouble. The 'first' he had a problem with, the 'second' he could understand. That was just how he acted naturally, particularly about things he was experienced in doing. He'd have to work to keep that little bit in check. To the first, he spoke his mind.
"Had I left in the first place like a good little rothe, then I would not have been able to give you something to help. Besides, the specific indirect order of '******** off' was implied to be up to myself whether I followed or not. As for the authoritative tone, forgive me, it is a habit I have. I will try to keep it at bay." With a shrug, he implied that he didn't care what Marltok thought of his explanation. All he knew was that that's how he saw things. That's how he had understood them. If Marltok had wanted '******** off' to be a direct order, he should have stated so from the beginning. He saw Marltok hand him something shrouded in leather. He took it with his nimble fingers and recognised the shape immediately.
For a moment, he was shocked. He took the whole thing?! He let out an exasperated sigh. Great Hells! That had enough to last for a few days at least. Quil didn't refine his wares for nothing. He shook his head, but didn't say anything about it. He just put the bottle in his bag and sat down in the grass. He figured that was as good a place as any.
"I was merely trying to do my job, Master Marltok. Where I come from, the battle condition of the officers was my concern as well. And if that meant that I had to take away their aches and pains, so be it. Your leg will still be sore in the morning, but I can change that. But ******** it," he said with a shrug. He couldn't make Marltok see that Quilzar saw the sore muscles as his duty to eradicate. He doubted that he ever would be able to help him see that.
"So, what would you like to know? I've never taught anything before, so I'll open it up to questions first. Figure we'll get those out of the way." He shrugged and furrowed his brow. With a sigh, he finished with, "I'll answer just about anything at the moment." And he meant it. Perhaps it would help Marltok to understand why he did the things he did. But then, why the ******** did he care what anyone thought! Screw that! He was just getting soft, that had to be it. He thought of Shynt'fryn for a second and felt the weight in his heart return. No, he'd been soft for a long time. He was certain of that. A shake of his head forced the thought of his dead love out of his head. No use dwelling on the past.
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Posted: Mon Nov 12, 2012 11:44 pm
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd 'I said beside me. If I'd wanted you to walk behind me I wouldn't have bothered saying beside,' Marltok said. Walking behind someone counted as slave-like in Marltok's opinion. He didn't trust the man to walk behind him either. Walking in front of him would be just as bad too. When two people walked together they walked side-by-side.He looked over at the drow, expecting the man to obey. He saw the man shake his head and look away but didn't know what to make of it. Was something wrong? Marltok had been taught to read people's body language as part of his training. He needed to be able to know if someone was likely to blow themselves up, escape and how they were likely to react but this drow was a difficult case. He seemed, was it resigned? It wasn't the only sigh or head shake the man would make.
'Had you left I could have taken care of it myself. I warned you about disobeying them and you took the risk. Indirect orders are still orders, go too far and I'll still punish you,' Marltok explained. He didn't respond to the apology, there was no need to. The slave needed to know how he'd misbehaved and he didn't need any more encouragement. Marltok was sure he'd made his point when he'd explained his rules. If one were to be completely honest, it was the man's tone and assumption that Marltok should follow him that had jarred Marltok into refusing the help.
The goblin grunted but said nothing. He still believed he hadn't needed help but he wasn't going to lecture the man again. He found it strange that a whore would also be the battlefield doctor. Quilzar's profile hadn't mentioned anything about being one. Now that Marltok knew Quilzar was some sort of healer and that it was part of a slave's duty he was more likely to accept it in the future.
The first question that came to mind was "What are drows?" but given their current line of conversation, Marltok had another subject he was curious about. While he considered whether it needed asking or not, he sat on the grass across from Quilzar and took out the polished, obsidian stale. He was interested in what Quilzar's healing abilities actually were but there was one specific question that was more immediate. The reason he had to think about asking was because he didn't want Quilzar to think he approved of the man barging into his room and saying what was best for him. The only reason he hadn't forcibly dragged the man out of his room was because he couldn't. He was now starting to think it would have been better if he'd tried walking with the splint off. How to put this? 'If you hadn't barged into my quarters and assumed you could do whatever you wanted, what would you have done?'
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Posted: Tue Nov 13, 2012 1:33 am
Quilzar cocked a brow when Marltok had mentioned the 'beside' thing. He looked to Marltok's shoulder, and moved himself to be a mere half-pace behind him. That was mostly beside anyways. To the other bit, the Drow merely shrugged. As he couldn't change what the goblin thought of his disobedience, he left it at that. After having sat in the grass, he wondered of all the questions that Marltok could ask. Perhaps he'd ask about the race. He hoped that maybe he'd ask about Crafting. Leaning back on his elbows so his upper back was still off the ground, he looked out over the water. There were a million questions he was sure Marltok would have. However, when the question did come, it wasn't similar to any of the possibilities he's thought of.
The only indication of his puzzlement was a slight furrowing of his brow, and a tightening of his jaw. Great Hells, that was an impossible question. There were a million things he could have done, such as categorize his new found fungi and plant-life for later use, he could have cleaned up what little there was to clean in his room, he could have taken care of himself for a bit longer. ********, he could have even stared out into the relief carving of Ched Nassad as he used to do when there was nothing else to do at home. Countless possibilities had lain at his fingertips. But what had he wanted to do? His mind was coming up on a blank. But then, he was assuming that Marltok meant other than barge into his quarters. He'd wanted to make sure the goblin was well enough for battle the next day. He'd wanted to do his job, as he was used to doing it in the Underdark. Could he be faulted for that?
He thought about avoiding the question. But how could he get out of it? Why had he gone into Marltok's room unbidden? ********! Now his own actions were perplexing to himself. Was it perhaps that Marltok reminded him of...NO! ******** that shite to the Hells and may it never return! At this, his brows could be seen coming a little closer together. He ground his teeth a little bit, frustrated at himself. How could he even come close to thinking something like that?! The differences between the two were vast. It was like the rift of a canyon with Marltok on one side, and Shynt on the other. Sure, there were some similarities; such as the frustrating stubbornness to getting himself treated for any thing. Whether it was bad or not. There was the ferocity in sparring, but that's where the differences ended. Marltok had already treated him with some level of mercy and kindness. Shynt'fryn very much believed in the philosophy of the rod and whip for even the smallest matter.
"Why does it matter to you? Am I not a slave with no freedom of choice anyways?" Seeing as even he didn't know what he would have done, better to avoid the question in the first place. Maybe if Marltok gave him a good enough explanation, he'd tell the goblin that he didn't know what he would have done.
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Posted: Tue Nov 13, 2012 9:04 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd When Quilzar seemed adamant about walking behind him, Marltok took the bait. He grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled him in line. Barely a moment later the point of Marltok's skull crusher met Quilzar's bruised shoulder. Marltok made no other attempt to reprimand the drow and put his weapon away. An order was an order. A punishment was a punishment. That's all there was to it. There was no need to waste time when they had three hours of studying ahead of them.
'It matters. Answer the question.' Marltok's reply was followed up with a sharp punch to the nose for not answering the question. It didn't matter how hard the goblin hit because the man would be able to use more of that potion to heal it overnight. A broken nose wasn't severe enough to need such a potion in Marltok's opinion. He'd always preferred to hold off on what wasn't needed. If one got used to too much healing they became weak and unable to work through wounds the normal way. Healing arts were was much a weakness as they were strength: too easy to depend on and too easy to fail on oneself. 'If I don't know what you would have done with my leg why would I trust you next time? What would you have done to heal my leg?'
'Quilzar Torviir. Newest entry first,' Marltok stated. A title started to glow across the face in bright yellow, Seelie writing, followed by a Seelie date (solar year - solar day of year - solar time). He added the word "healer" to the list of skills Quilzar currently had, written in the normal mellow yellow Marltok wrote in. If Quilzar were to look over he'd see a data sheet detailing things such as height, weight (underestimated by 5%), physique and various other traits. He had each of Quilzar's skills listed and knowledge areas listed with ten boxes beside each. Some of the skills had a ranking while others did not. Some had been ranked then ranked again so the crosses moved between boxes.
'New entry,' Marltok commanded. The face went blank and Marltok started writing "Quilzar Torviir: healing abilities" along with the Seelie date. He didn't know the exact time so he only wrote what was considered a partial date. To make a comparison it would be like leaving the last digit out of a human digital clock (e.g. 145 hours in 24 hour time). The little pen was awkward in his large hand, even if it had been made to accommodate creatures with larger hands. The writing across the face looked much like a child's. It was obvious literacy had never been one of Marltok's best classes. His teacher had thought his poetry akin to watching a deer butchered with a dull knife: tedious, painful, shocking and messy. 'What are your healing abilities, Quilzar? What methods do you use? What magic did you use on your wrist and why couldn't you replicate it?'
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