Ziel’s Practice Grounds
You stand in another bit of cleared ground, just off Vechter’s Field, and obviously a part of it. Ziel, a young Son of Adam, sits on his chair, generally snoozing unless he’s pestered for a target. Behind him is a pile of straw targets, some new, some half-made, some completely destroyed, ready to be taken apart and remade, if only Ziel would wake up and get to work. There are several stands at different hights, scattered across the clearing. It appears that the targets are affixed to these, once purchased.
The only easy way to leave is to go through Vecter’s Field to the east. The rest of the area is hemmed in by conifers.
Perrin continues to work the forms, once more seeming to give the other man no mind as his blade strikes the target.
Myrd pulls his hat down more firmly over his eyes as he catches Lanisen’s entrance out of the periphery of his vision. He waits to see if the boy notices him.
Perrin continues to work his forms, apparently oblivious to his surroundings.
Lanisen makes his way into the field, keeping mostly out of sight behind stands of straw targets. Seeing that the field is already occupied, he draws back and turns to go, pausing briefly to eye Myrd in not-quite-recognition.
Myrd snorts faintly as Lanisen tries to place him.
Perrin appears to not notice the exchange as his blade slices across the target, though he follows it quickly with a foot to the target’s ‘throat’.
Myrd grits out a few words to his subordinant.
Myrd mumbles “What took you so long, boy?”, to Lanisen.
Myrd mumbles “What took you … long, boy?”, to Lanisen.
Perrin returns to sword only forms, seemingly intent on what he is doing.
Lanisen shakes his head, grimacing apologetically. He glances questioningly to Perrin, one eyebrow raised.
Myrd narrows his eyes in answer.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spy Loc sneaking in from the east.
Perrin strikes the target once more before coming to a stop, facing the three men before him, “What is the meaning of all this sneaking…”
Myrd stands up, snorting again at Perrin’s question. “An entire army could’ve snuck up on you. It pays to be attentive.”
Loc quietly enters along the outskirts of the field. He doesn’t acknowledge any of the men present until the other man speaks. At this he pauses, and looks to the gathering.
Perrin holds his sword at the ready, watching the three men warily. “Perhaps some can seem to ignore their surroundings better than others.”
Lanisen eyes the man and his wooden sword with a slight smirk, glancing again to Myrd.
Morrigan comes walking through a break in the benches.
Myrd rounds on Loc, scowling at the man’s ineptness. “See that our guest is comfortable?”
Morrigan stays near the entrance of the grounds, watching silently, intrigued.
Perrin glances to the young woman who enters, but immediately returns to watching the three men.
Loc grunts and shrugs.
Myrd snorts. “Guess I’m going to have to go check on him myself. Ain’t forgetting you and I need to talk either.”
Loc ahs, his voice low and lazy. “Him. Yeah. He’s plenty comfy.”
Morrigan tilts her head, but keeps her place…though she coughs lowly, and definitely audibly.
Perrin quietly waits to see what will happen.
Myrd stalks off without a backward glance.
Morrigan watches him leave before speaking; “What’s going on?”
Loc seems rather apathetic about the current situation. He grunts as one stalks off. He looks at Shenzi and shrugs. “I wanted to go on a walk.” His voice is low and gruff.
Morrigan raises an eyebrow, looking most unimpressed. “And you ended up…doing what?”
Loc snorts and sends her a half disgusted look. “And what does it look like? I ended up going for a walk. Is there something wrong with that?”
Morrigan motions to the stranger, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Whatever, Jarson. Who’s he?” she motions to the stranger.
Perrin now includes the woman in his wary watch.
Loc looks at the man and shrugs. “How should I know? I just got here. Shenzi.”
Lanisen watches Loc and Shenzi with some degree of incredulity. “Somethin’ the matter?” he asks Perrin, swinging around to lean against a stand of targets.
Perrin says, “You tell me, I wasn’t the one attempting to skulk around…”
Lanisen blinks, widening his eyes a bit. “Skulking? That’s sort of a harsh word, isn’t it? Just here to practice, same as you.”
Perrin smiles contemptuously, “And are you afraid the squirrels might get you on the way?”
Morrigan grunts, badly disguising a short burst of laughter.
Loc chuckles softly.
Perrin glances to the second man, “I’m afraid the squirrels saw you when you were still miles off in your attempt.”
Loc shrugs casually, “I think its rude to distrub a man whose practicing.”
Perrin snorts, “Odd way of doing so.”
Loc gives another apathetic shrug.
Lanisen, watching Loc, raises an eyebrow. “So,” he says. “I’d planned on a spar with Mal, but he seems to have business elsewhere.” He nods after Myrd. “Mind if I join you two on your /walk/?”
Lanisen adds, waggling his eyebrows, “Or would I just be a third wheel?”
Perrin gives another derisive snort before returning to a seeming easiness as he starts slowly going through the sword forms, striking at the target.
Loc snorts in disgust and replies smoothly, with a faint smirk, “Here I thought she was your type.”
Morrigan scowls at Lanisen, looking fairly murderous. “I hate both of you,” she states, quite bluntly.
Loc watches the man return to practice with some interest in his style. He doesn’t acknowledge Shenzi’s comment.
Perrin seems to ignore the others once more as he continues to strike the target.
Lanisen glances back to Perrin, looking relieved that he has lost interest. He sketches a mock bow to Shenzi and leaves the field.