[open] it's a shame we're all dying

[thereneverwas]

WHO: Barrow and any mages who want to get their shit ruined, possibly others
WHAT: in light of this posting
WHEN: Drakonis
WHERE: the training pitch
NOTES: who knows

He hadn't intended to ever come out with the truth to everyone in the organization, not so openly. But it feels oddly uncomfortable having-- apparently??-- breached the trust of at least one person he respects, so Barrow is owning it now, in his way.

They still don't have to talk about it. Being an ex-Templar. That's his business as much as being a mage is theirs, and really, he's doing them a favor.

Whether or not anyone takes him up on his offer, Barrow can be found swinging his Riftwatch-acquired hammer at practice dummies with gradually improving competence on just about every afternoon. Usually he has a shirt on (it's cold out), but that can always change.
He'll stop if someone approaches, and offer a smile, whether or not they seem like the smiling type in return.

Comments

understandable tbh and nooooo worries

[inkindled]

Two fireballs and then it's like someone's snipped a wire. Matthias feels it--his magic is all there, burning away, and then it isn't. Just because he's felt it before doesn't mean the feeling is any less shocking. And with it comes a seep of panic, but he fights it down, sets his teeth--he will wait it out--he will hear what Barrow is saying, and in his head, he thinks one, again, this time counting the seconds, two, and it feels like he's holding in his breath but backwards, somehow, three, and the feeling floods back in, relief, and he swings his staff around again as fire laces through his fingers and then blasts into the dummy. It goes up like it's been doused in oil, a burning brand in the courtyard.

[thereneverwas]

Barrow smiles quietly to see the boy continue as before. There's a part of him that quails slightly at the sight of fire magic being wielded with such reckless abandon, but then, he figures there's an understanding between them as long as they're here.

"D'you know how to fight? Without magic?" he asks idly.

[inkindled]

There's a slight sweat on Matthias' brow and he clears it by doing a kind of shrug, bringing his shoulder up so he can wipe his face against his upper arm.

"Yeah," he answers. Then he's got to confess: "Sort of, yeah. A bit. I've been in fights."

[thereneverwas]

"So no weapons training then." Barrow takes on a more casual stance, watching the lad thoughtfully.

"If you get silenced in combat, you gonna claw at the enemy like a feral cat?"

[inkindled]

His flinch is slight, and still likely more noticeable than he would want it to be. The little Free Marcher peasant boy he used to be once thought he'd be a knight of some stripe, get proper training with swords and shields and all and make a name for himself. Then he burnt down a barn and got shipped to the Circle, and thought he'd make Knight-Enchanter instead. And then that all went to shit, didn't it.

"If I get silenced in combat I'm proper fucked." The dummy is still burning, but the flames have evened out without the fuel of Matthias' attention and magic to go on. "We played dead or we ran. Even if I had weapons training, how'm I meant to cut your head off?"

[thereneverwas]

"You don't have to cut anyone's head off," Barrow muses, "but you can at least learn to defend yourself until your magic comes back round."

He smiles faintly.

"I'll teach you, if you like. Seems negligent the Circle never did, but I suppose we already know why."

[inkindled]

"Because Circles are shit," Matthias says, flatly, "yeah, we do know why."

He ought to be careful. But it'd be useful to learn, wouldn't it, and a good way to make sure that he's not a burden on anyone during a battle. It'd be better to learn it from another mage, perhaps. Only that would mean showing another mage what shit he is. As opposed to Barrow, whose opinion Matthias doesn't much care about.

He shifts his weight, leaning on his staff.

"What sort of things would you be teaching me? Swords?"

[thereneverwas]

Barrow doesn't seem troubled by the assessment, or like he has any opinion on it at all.

"Probably just how to fight with a staff when it's not doing the magic thing," he says, gesturing vaguely at Matthias, "unless you see yourself switching to a sword if you're Silenced."

[inkindled]

Matthias transfers his frown down to his staff. It lacks polish and shape--certainly it's staff-shaped, yes, all right there--but it hasn't got much more than that to recommend it as a staff.

"I'd rather a sword," he says, grudgingly. "Staff're... well, staffs. Only I get what you mean. Switching would be stupid." One moment too long and his head would be off. He tightens his grip on the staff in question and looks around again, determined.

"All right, then. When do we start?"

[thereneverwas]

"It's up to you," Barrow replies, shrugging one large shoulder. "As to when we start-- well, I've got time now, or we can come back tomorrow. Whatever your schedule allows."

He smiles kindly at him, but the intrinsic humor in his eyes could easily be taken for mocking, at least by someone very sensitive to such things.

[inkindled]

Matthias, hair-trigger aware of mockery, bristles. This is not a very intimidating look on him, considering he's built like a rangy scarecrow, and might also be easy to overlook, but. He does bristle.

"I've got time now," he says, firmly. "Have the afternoon off or else I wouldn't have asked to do this. But we ought to finish the Silencing bit, right. As that's what I came here for."

[thereneverwas]

"Now it is, then," Barrow agrees, taking up his stance again, "though I doubt one session is going to be enough to train it out of you completely."

He selects a wooden sword, which feels like nothing to his bulky arm, but it'll do. "En garde?"