Barracks

Day Two, Midday

"As you wish, Your Highness, your training will be prepared at once. Warn the barracks!" Said Roland's attendant, the last part of that speech destined to a servant hovering nearby. Turning back to the young prince, the man said: "We will also procure you with a guard of four guards as well as two servants, to make your training more comfortable."

The prince's wish was granted easily enough and soon he was led by two servants to the castle's barracks, where a training yard was erected. The yard was imposing and seemed to be able to fit a hundred man easily enough with it's rectangular shape and it's training dummies on it's perimeter. A few guards were also sparring each other nearby. As they approached an empty spot, the party was met by a knight of the prince's late brother, the man kneeling before Roland and swearing that no ham would be made to the prince under his watch. Thus the training stated. The sun was shining harshly on the two men as they sparred, Sir Ernest was also a hard taskmaster that was unforgiving of mistakes and who did not tolerate laziness.

"Come now, Your Highness, parry like this to unbalance your attacker. You should be able to defend yourself at least..." Sir Ernest shouted, looking barely out of breath even though Roland was ready to drop.

After many hours under the rapidly rising sun, the training ended, the two men bowing to each other before they parted. Roland felt like a horde of wolves had attacked him and wanted nothing more than go to sleep at this point, but then again he did want to learn to dance...

Roland was now Fatigued.

Roland's Strength raised by 1.

Roland's Speed raised by 1.

Roland's Toughness raised by 1.

Roland was now a novice of the Martial arts.

"Ah!" Roland exclaimed as Sir Ernest's wooden sword smacked him on his left shoulder, he couldn't predict his movements to save his life, his sword glided elegantly through the air, his swings were graceful but strong, and he was in total control at all times. Roland was quite frankly amazed, his own movements were primitive and wild by comparison. Discipline, that is what it took to be a masterful swordsman. By the end of the training Roland was about to collapse, but he was grateful for Sir Ernest's beneficial training, he would make sure to assign him as his personal trainer, afterall he seemed to have the perfect balance of discipline and criticism. Roland was nearly dead on his feet, even after having a brief rest on a chair his legs were still sore.

He frowned slightly, this threw a hammer into his plans. For royalty dancing was an important skill, maybe not so much for a king, but for a prince it was. While he was fatigued, he resolved that he wasn't too tired to learn a new skill, besides how taxing could dancing be? He called to one of his servants and ordered her to find a dancing instructor for him. He would have a brief lunch in the dining hall, nothing that would take more than ten minutes to eat, afterwards he would be guided to the ballroom by one of the servants, as it was the most suitable place for dancing and all self-respecting palaces had one. He tried to stretch out his body a bit, hoping that the pain in his muscles would fade away.

Hopefully he wouldn't be too bad at dancing, long ago he was pretty good, but that was before he began to reject his 'trainers'. It was all a bunch of fake crap anyways, like stickers on an prison cell, it gave his life some flavor, but that flavor soon began to make him sick. He hadn't danced in years, maybe some of his former talent would come back to him? He tried to push unpleasant thoughts from his mind, he would just focus on learning, and by troubling himself he only worsened his already prominent fatigue.

Day 1, Night

Aleph's first night was spent pitifully chugging jugs upon jugs of water provided by those sympathizing but unyielding servants. Between gulp the man learned that all of his brothers were wither sleeping or our into town at this time of night and were therefore unavailable. After successfully escaping at his fourth try the water torture as he took to call it, the prince found his way to the barrack by sheer luck.

Then came the sparing from hell.

The guard were more than ready to help him with his swordsmanship and taught him quite a bit, the problem was the sound. That sound that made a puddle of agony out of his brain. That was not the wisest thing to do, no doubt about it.

The sparring did go on for the rest of the night, however, and toughened the man up some. Fist came attacking, then blocking, parrying and finally riposting, all in a symphony of grunts and wacks of the wooden practice swords. Roland was ready to sleep now as the sun peeked over the horizon. His bed sounded like a siren call to Aleph.

Aleph was now Fatigued.

Aleph lost 1 point of Wisdom.

Aleph gained 1 point of Strength.

Aleph gained 1 point of Speed.

Aleph gained 1 point of Toughness.