Nine Swords

((Would it be fair to post this here as it happens in the Crucible? It may be necroing an old thread, but it would be kinda cool to get some interaction going on here again. if it would be better to post this in a new thread, I'll get right on that.

Takes place some good amount of time since the last post, so as to not disrupt anything and Rav just wasn't around yet.))


Funny how some things relaxed when they should have tensed or tensed when they should be at ease. Just like it was funny that what some may consider the worst thing that could possibly happen to them, could be considered by another to be a blessing of the highest sort. For Spiros Nuhael, "Ravrohan", it was certainly the latter. The world he now found himself apart of was filled with super and unnatural horrors, amazing secrets that were actually truths, mythic beasts that were at times everything the stories said they were and at other times were nothing like them at all.

Ravrohan felt it was the best thing to ever happen to him. Superpowers and a member of a secret society wanting to save the world? Hell yes.

Between missions, the Templar agent was spending some free time training his body. He had heard it suggested that he become as flexible as he possibly could, so here he trained in the Crucible. He stood on a balance beam, barefoot and in sweat pants, a black tank top. His only adornment the turquoise and silver wolfs head necklace, unless one were to count the scars scattered across his bared chest and back. Signs of a life best forgotten, and earned at an age that should have been too young.

Right now he could forget, it wasn’t even that hard anymore. For as far as he was concerned, he was on his third life now.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet he swung his body into a series of cartwheels down the length of the beam, he was barely still a few moments before he was pushing off again. His body arching back and snapping his legs over his head as he back flipped and landed in a crouch his arms thrusting out to his sides to help keep his balance, the wobbling he managed to weather not boding well for a shot at the olympics. Good thing he wasn’t interested in a gold medal.

Once he was sure he wasn’t going to fall on his head, he stretched one leg back and slowly rose on his other while sweeping his back leg foreword and up, until it was nearly parallel to his torso. Slowly, deliberately he lowered it back down and behind him again.

"Almost nailed it! Alright!" He rolled his shoulders, feeling good about the brief routine. He turned to leave, and to late remembered that he was still standing on a balance beam. The reminder was quick and ended abruptly as the world spun topsy turvy for what felt like much to long, until that is he hit the mat with a heavy thud.

“Oww.” he groaned, his head rolling to the side as his fingers gingerly rubbed the back of his skull. His eyes falling on a large black and white dog that was staring back at him. It whinned and covered his eyes with his forepaws.

“Oh shut up, or its nothing but zombies for you for a week.”

The dog simply let out a great yawn and curled itself back into a ball and made as if to sleep, but Ravrohan could swear the damned mutt was looking pretty smug right then.

Jenn shifted her rifle case from one shoulder to the other so she could shove the massive door to the Crucible open. Hundreds of years of perfecting their military machine, and the Templar couldn't manage bloody automatic doors yet.

The door closed behind her, sealing out the sounds of bickering, bragging, and politicking in the Hall. The sounds of gunfire, beatings, and tearing flesh were surprisingly calming compared to the drama. At least in here, Jenn knew none of the targets were going to sneak around and stab her in the back. She couldn't be so sure of that with the rest of Templar version of corporate headquarters.

Jenn passed up the bar, as alluring as those sparkling glass bottles and their delicious amber liquids were. She'd picked up a new rifle from Edwards, and either the sighting was off, or she subconsciously wanted to kill everything standing to the left of what she was aiming at. She wanted to get it adjusted before she had to head back out into the field.

She made her way around the exercise equipment, headed toward the range, and... "SHITE!" She caught one foot on something... no, someone... sprawled on the floor.

Executing a brilliant combination consisting of flailing and cursing, Jenn managed to keep her rifle case on her back and most of her off of the floor. She made sort of a three-point landing, with one hand braced on the marble floor tiles and her knees bent.

"Oh, Cor! Aren't you adorable!? Sooo handsome!" Her voice purred with appreciation.

She reached out and ran her hand through the dog's soft fur. "Who let a sweet thing like you in here?" She scruffled canine ears and totally ignored the man she'd just tripped over.

"Oof! Hey!" Ravrohan had thought to lay there on the floor a bit, not to long, just long enough for the ache in the back of his head to stop throbbing. He was a big guy, not burly but pretty tall, surely no one would simply not see him on the floor next to a balance beam.

Well, at least she only tripped over his hip, any lower and his day would have been really shot.

His bloody dog however, was just lapping up the attention and not sparing him anymore smug looks. He was to busy nuzzling his head into the woman like a happy puppy starved for affection.

Ravrohan sat up and scooted backwards, giving this pair a dry but not dirty look. Well, maybe there was some annoyance when he looked at his companion.

"Don't tell him all that, his head will swell and we won't make it past the double doors out of here." he spoke wryly, half wondering if the woman would even notice. "But Stray is with me, I'm Ravrohan. Miss... er miss?"

Damn dog licked her face to try and distract her from his 'master'

"Bloody dog." Rav muttered to himself.

The double shot glass was an inch from Treylar's lower lip when the motion of Jennet walking past caught the corner of his eye, and what followed only caused him to turn his head away from his double whiskey shot.

Treylar blinked once after seeing Jennet's recovery, and a flurry of thoughts went through his head. "How does someone ...?", "Why couldn't ...?", "Wait a minute?! Who puts the "E" on shit??!"

Jenn was making coo-ing noises by now. She dropped her rifle case to the floor off her shoulder and curled her legs underneath her, cross-legged... no small feat in jeans so tight they could have been painted on. She was wearing a baggy grey sweatshirt with an Edwards Arms logo over her left breast.

The sweatshirt was quickly becoming decorated with dog hair as Jenn wrapped her arms around the affectionate dog. "Oh, kisses, as well? On a first date? Really, aren't you forward?"

She giggled and glanced back over her shoulder, finally, before turning back to talk to the dog in a confidential whisper. "Did you leave that man laying there like that? You should be more careful. Someone could trip over him."

She got the dog to offer her a paw for a sturdy shake. "Nice to meet you, Ravrohan... I'm Jenn." She leaned back finally, and swiveled on her rump to face the prone man. "And that makes you Stray then." She offered a hand to the human as well, almost managing to keep a straight face. The laughter in her bright blue eyes gave her away entirely, though.

"Sorry I ran you down. Traditionally, we keep people on the chairs here, but I like this floor idea. It'll bug the royal hell out of Lethe." They were, indeed, getting sour looks from the trainer far across the hall.

Ravrohan, the real one, rolled his eyes at the exchange but wore a crooked smile as she offered her hand. He shook it with a wry grin, looked off like he was considering something very deeply, then just, shrugged.

"Stray probably would suit me too." he grinned. "And between the three of us," Rav leaned forward, dropping his voice down to a whisper, "what doesn't bug the royal hell out of Lethe?" As Rav sat there, his companion Stray trotted over and flopped his head down into the man's lap, and looked up at him with large blue puppy eyes. "Oh don't give me that look now that there's a lady here that likes you."

Stray simply huffed, well, his human wasn't a total dunce.

"Don't worry about running me down, I just fell off the beam and needed a moment." jerking his thumb behind him at the offending training equipment. But I do like it here on the floor, very comfy, they put a plush carpet in here and I may go barefoot." He offered another grin as he crossed his legs 'indian' style, a much simpler task for him than the lady. "I didn't catch your name."

Treylar had finished his shot, and used a rush ability from this Paladin training to teleport most of the way across the hall, and he slowed from a run to a walk by the time he realized that everyone was perfectly fine, and only simply mutters to himself, "Good dog."

He feels somewhat foolish for asking, but does so anyways as he approaches the trio on the floor, "Judging by everyone's current actions; your tumble looked worse from over at the bar."

"I would also ask if your rifle sights needed a quick corrective adjustment, but now I can see that is also an over reaction."

"We'd never get the demon bits out of a plush carpet." Jenn wrinkled her nose and leaned back to rest on her arms, still sitting crosslegged. They were down there, they might as well stay there. It was making Lethe glare, and that was one of Jenn's favorite passtimes.

"Sorry, Jennison. I am, rather. Jennison Edwards. Jenn's fine. 'You daft bint' is popular with Lethe, but I prefer Jenn." She didn't offer her hand to Ravrohan, as she had the dog... nor did she rub his belly. The glint in her eye suggested she may have thought about it, but she showed remarkable restraint... remarkable if you knew Jenn, anyway.

Treylar's shadow drew her eyes up, and she smiled up at him. "That'd be handy for fetching things from the fridge." She had apparently noticed his instantaneous travel across the hall. "I think we're all in one piece. If one little trip takes us out, we're in hella trouble in the field."

She leaned forward to swing the rifle case off her back and hold it in her lap. She glanced at it in dismay. "Don't think the sights could get any worse at the moment, so no harm done. Though my sights apparently need a bit of an adjustment. I missed a whole person laying in front of me. You think I'd notice that. Medic and all that. Doesn't inspire a lot of confidence, does it?"

Jenn looked up with another bright, careless smile. "So, Stray, you aught to get up and get back to work. Your skills at dodging random girls is awful." She was talking to the man.

"You too, Ravrohan. Some watchdog you're turning out to be, what?" Now she was talking to the dog.

"Dodge random girls? Why would I want to develop that sort of skill?" he laughed a little, shrugging at the woman. She was pretty stuck on her name swapping game, but he did say Stray could have suited as his own nickname. "I was just finishing up some flexibility work outs before working on something else, I earned a short break." Rav smiled a quick crooked smile and looked up to Treylar, offering his hand. "It is handy to get something from the fridge isn't it? Or getting into trouble. I'm Ravrohan, nice to meet you. The dog is Stray, and I wouldn't know if the sights on my pistols are off or not."

"Have a seat," patting the cushioned mat they sat on, "It's nice and cool down here, less demon breath in the air."

"I agree Jenn, but two things came to mind, the first comes from Abu Bakr, 'Be good to others, that will protect you against evil', and second is when Sun Tzu said, 'Speed is the essence of war. Take advantage of the enemy's unpreparedness; travel by unexpected routes and strike him where he has taken no precautions' ... he only needed a fridge to fully realize the absoluteness of that principle.", Treylar jokingly replies to the trio before extending his hand to meet Ravrohan's in a respectful handshake, and follows with, "I'm Treylar. It's good to put some faces to the names, and voices I've heard in our comms channel."

Treylar's outward appearance rarely matches his words he speaks. He had recently arrived from an overnight mission, and had stopped to grab a few rounds of drink before heading off to clean up. His heavy boots, baggy jeans, and hoodie have a few stains that were created by slashing motions, and there are also some tiny droplets of high velocity blood spatter. The hoodie is red so it helps to disguise a majority of the stains except for the random grass and dirt markings. His hands and face are clean from being wiped down well before he took his seat at the bar.

He replys to Ravrohan, "After what the bartender said to me for getting a small blood smear from the underside of my sleeve on the wooden bar ... I'd hate to think what they'd do if I made a real mess. Besides, I should probably go and get changed."