Hasty Lessons

The Colosseum, midday

The Colosseum serves many purposes. Sport. Competition. Duels of honor. Martial demonstrations. And today, training. A small group of warriors -- a couple neophyte adventurers and some newly-minted town guardsmen -- are receiving some lectures on what they'll deal with from a hard-bitten, gray-haired old sergeant. Standing next to the sergeant, his starry eyes bright, is a familiar if unusual visitor to the Colosseum: a half-elf dressed in elegant garments, looking like a dilettante noble until you see the mage-light in his gaze.

"Right, you 'orrible lot," the sergeant drawls. "Now, you've heard all the horror stories. This is the part where you learn about what happens when a -friendly- spell-slinger backs you. Y'need to get used to this or you won't know -what- to do with it."

Carver is one of those neophytes, a thin silhouette given shape with her furs and leathers. Without all her facepaint, it's clear for the first time exactly how young she actually is. Fits right in with the rest of the greenhorns. She even seems to be listening attentively.

This group isn't the only ones here, not by a long shot. Although those training are at their most numerous in the early part of the day, there are still a few here and there in the corners. Seldan is among them, stripped down to a pair of old trousers and a worn, dirty, scuffed, blood-marked pair of leather adventuring boots. They are, at least, sturdy and sound, but have clearly been relegated to _dirty use only_ status. The rest of his gear is nowhere to be seen, including his shirt, and he seems to be entirely heedless of the veritable collage of detailed tattoos that entirely cover chest, back, and sides, and wrap to the upper parts of his shoulders..

He's been doing, it appears, bodyweight work, the various heavy objects around the area where he stands eschewed in favor of a chunk of discarded stone pillar, on which he now balances, both hands planted firmly on the pillar and holding up his entire weight, steadying and supporting as the pillar threatens to roll back and forth.

He holds this position for several minutes, but at the call from the sergeant, he looks up, and rolls out of the handstand to his feet and dusts off his hands, watching attentively.

It was a bit odd seeing Eztli around at the colosseum, and not a place that the small makari went to often. But with some of their free time for a change, they were going about their exercises with the various equipment available at the stadium.

It was a bit comical, and perhaps a bit concerning to some seeing the small sith-makar lifting up several shot balls, and hurling them a sizeable distance through the field set up. After one such throw, she takes a pause to catch her breath, her attention taken by the drills that seemed to be starting.

"Right then," the sergeant growls. He nods to Telamon, who offers the recruits a reassuring smile, a small nod given to Carver as the half-sil speaks.

"What you'll be experiencing are a couple spells you can expect to have cast upon you in an engagement. None of these are dangerous, though you need to remember your limitations. And that no spell is utterly inviolate; an enemy wizard can strip protection from you too."

Tel grins. "So your first task is to run down there," He points to a spot at the far end of the Colosseum from where they are. "Slap the padded dummy, and run back. The catch of course, is that you'll be hasted. You'll move faster, and sometimes that can be disorienting." His lips quirk. "Any questions?"

"Ye," Carver jips. "What does firs' place get?" She is all about extrinsic awards. Which might be why she's an adventurer and not a town guardsmen. Improving a base understanding of teamwork? Gross self-indulgement! A free meal voucher? Full belly! One of her fellows elbows her, a sharp retort that cuts off whatever else might have followed.

"I'm jus' askin. They's even asked if we had questions..."

Seldan's been at this a while, judging by the sheet of sweat on face, body, and hands, and he rubs his hands on his trousers, taking a few steps towards where the drill is being done. _Such drills would have been useful when first I started,_ he reflects, pausing a healthy distance away from the drill itself, but in view of the participants, to watch with interest.

"They would be handy, wouldn't they? Better than just throwing yourself at the problem and seeing what sticks, given what happens if you mess up." The small makari shrugs, chuckling a bit to herself as she walks over to grab the ball she just tossed. "What, is exercising here not reward enough Carver? All these muscular elves and the like working out and all that, got your eyes on any of them? Just not the instructor, they're already taken."

The sergeant looks like he's about to explode, and Telamon immediately covers his mouth to stifle his laugh. After a moment, Tel clears his throat. "The knowledge that whoever came in second would've been eaten by whatever was chasing you," he deadpans. "Sometimes you -do- have to run away, after all."

The sorcerer claps his hands. "Right! Let's not dally around. You've got your instruction, so..." Suddenly Telamon's fingers are moving in a practiced motion, and his voice takes on a sonorous quality. "Lukas, sa-i'iz!" A soft flash of silvery light pulses out from his fingertips, leaping from one recruit to the next, limning each one in a faint glow; their own personal moonlight. Carver isn't exempted from it either. "Go!"

The recruits have clearly never been hasted before, and it shows. One overbalances and winds up falling over, while a couple others run wildly, cartwheeling their arms to keep level. Well, that's why everyone's here: to learn.

GAME: Telamon casts Haste. Caster Level: 19 DC: 21

GAME: Carver rolls acrobatics: (4)+4: 8

Carver is not exempt to foolmaking. Her first step is clean, ducking under a nearby guardsmen who false starts. Only to collide into the next, bouncing off the larger man and spilling to the sand. Looks like everyone is getting eaten. However, if nothing else, she has grit. Literal grit between her teeth from the sand of the colloseum and the metaphorical spirit to continue on.

She kicks and scratches her way up to her feet and then is off, racing toward the dummies as best she can.

Real sympathy writes itself quite plainly in the small smile Seldan wears as he watches, arms folded across his chest. He looks over at Eztli when she speaks. "I would deem not falling flat on one's face in the midst of pitched battle to be a reward in itself, indeed," he offers in that Myrrish lilt of his. "Haste is one of the more common spells, and not many casters will think to sak if their targets are accustomed. A wise drill," he nods approvingly.

The small makari winces as Carver faceplants, but it passes quickly and Eztli whistles for the familiar face. "Good recovery there Carver! Just keep it up, you've got this!" They cheer on. "Never did think about people being unused to magic, but, I guess It's more commonplace in some spots compared to others."

Telamon watches the raw recruits struggle to accustom themselves to the unfamiliar burst of speed. It's clear none of them are used to it -- the two that were windmilling their arms wildly overshoot the dummy, one narrowly stopping before he plows into the far wall. Another spins so fast to try and get his bearings that he falls over, landing on his rump. Whatever Carver's problems are, she's definitely not the only one having them.

Tel catches sight of Seldan, and does a brief double take before smiling. "Good day, Sir Knight! Yes, every now and again, I drop in on recruits to let them experience something like this -- after all, not -every- magician is bent on causing problems. Some of us are even respectable."

GAME: Carver rolls athletics: (6)+6: 12

Carver still might be young, but in the last year, she has had her trials. Failures and successes in equal measure, really. So while her start was rough, she is recovering. What's more, she's tapering - holding herself back even from full flight, having had a moment to observe that everyone is overcompensating for the moonblessed madness of the spell's speed. It limits her potential but it allows for control.

Pap! She touches the dummy's nose and prepares to kick off, calling back to Eztli, "I got this!"

Surprised, Seldan inclines his head to Telamon. "A great kindness, Lord Lupecyll-Atlon," he agrees politely. "Her Light upon your path, and indeed does Her wisdom bless you. I confess that it had not occurred to me to offer such, though most such spells are not mine. My spellcraft is bent more towards defense against enemy spellcasters."

"And yet," he goes on, "perhaps it were well to demonstrate the spell's other benefits, for indeed," he turns now to Eztli, "this will be many's first experience with magic."

"Course you do! Keep going, and finish strong!" Eztli cheers for the hunter. The large metal ball is rolled over to the rest of the pile so they can cup their hands around their snout.

"Well, that's the thing, isn't it? The magic folks tend to keep to themselves in their districts." Eztli chuckles. "It's good for them to be around the common folk sometimes. Not for me though, I don't really have much to teach people, other than what to do when they're on fire, but that's not something really necessary to learn."

Telamon shrugs lightly, spreading his hands. "It's easier to deal with these things if you're familiar with them. Perhaps that breeds contempt as some say, but I think it leads to understanding." He flicks his eyes to Eztli. "There are those who come here and haven't seen so much as a cantrip. Sometimes they even come with odd notions about what magic does or what it is. That's always a fun experience, having to explain to someone the limitations of the Art and the Talent."

It's clear that while Carver may still be reckoned a neophyte, compared to the other recruits she's still got more experience and it's showing. Two, then three other recruits manage to race up to the dummy and slap it in the face, though another does a sliding tackle -past- it, slapping it approximately where a person's groin might be. The sergeant snorts at that, and even Tel grins at the display.

GAME: Carver rolls acrobatics: (2)+4: 6

Carver did have this. She could not help herself though. She could have rode out the win with the boring and efficient strategy. She almost had made up her mind to do so, but confidence fueled by Eztli's faith pushed her to reach toward the sky; buoyed by Telamon's magic. So, as she crests toward the last few steps, she bounded up into a great somersault that completely missed the starting point and crashed down in a twisted pile of limbs and squawk of pain at the sargeant's feet.

The performance by several of the recruits draws a rare thing from Seldan's lips - a chuckle, accompanied by a grin that proves boyish in its appearance. Once the laughter has died down, he inclines his head at the both of them. "Few spellcasters are tasked with working in tandem with fighters. More are students and academicians, and yet is it as you say. Familiarity breeds understanding, and it is that understanding that too oft breeds contempt. Oft are wizards unfamiliar with how the front lines may react, and oft are fighters unfamiliar with the spellcasting."

He finally relaxes, dropping his arms. "No greater danger upon the battlefield is there, to themselves and their allies, than one who desires to show off."

"Oh, I know, different places, all that, still, it's a bit surprising." The small makari shrugs, before she turns back to watch them finish. Eztli winces again, and jogs over to offer a hand up. "Plenty of things worse, at least someone trying to show off has the intent of doing good, or even better than usual." They chuckle. "Apathy, ignorance or fear are a lot worse I'd say. Least you can work on those things with something like this. Know what you're doing and what to expect, and that a spell cast from someone you're working with isn't something to be feared and all that. Good go of that Carver, you did well, and you guys too!"

This not only brings Carver to a sprawled halt in front of the sergeant, but in front of Telamon too, though the archmage has nerves enough to not step back as Carver augurs in at the end. He flicks a glance up at the other recruits coming pell-mell after, though, and coughs. "Might want to step aside, sergeant." The two of them briskly move out of the way -- evidently Tel made a point to haste both himself and the instructor as well.

The other recruits, to their credit, don't land ON Carver, but only two keep their feet when they scream to a half. Most lose their balance as well and fall to the earth, looking wobbly. One mumbles, "Now I know what it feels like to be a fish in a river runnin' bank-full..."

"Or anythin' half as obnoxious as a bucket head with a stick up his ar--" Carver begins, taking the hand from Eztli even as the others spill out across the sand. "Powerful stuff, like havin' bees in your veins." She dusts herself off with another thankful nod at the Sith Makar. "Never seen that spell before. Reminds me of some of the clerical blessings, but like buzzed up a dozen times. My ears still ringin' and my hearts still racin'." The jitters of the fading enchantment can be seen in the twitching of her hands, the feet that won't sit still.

Rather than looking offended, Seldan merely regards Carver quietly, his mirth settling into the steady gaze more common with him, then turns away without comment to regard Eztli. "Your enemy will not care your intentions, mistress. Naught will they see, save an opening for them to exploit. Still are you correct, that knowing what to expect has great value."

He looks then, at the sergeant, and at Telamon. "It is also well, do they know all that may be done with such a spell. Far more value has it than merely running fast."

"Yeah, it is pretty similar, isn't it?" The small makari chuckles as she gives the ranger a pat on the back, before stepping out of the way of the other trainees. "Just, bit more in control with that holy magic. This is more like, everything at a smaller degree, but you get it all at once so overall it's a bit more overwhelming."

"Yes, they don't give a crap about intentions, just saying that there are a lot of things that could be bad. that's all." She shrugs. "Try not to over correct for the speed. you might be able to do something quicker, but you should avoid changing up how you run or move too much."

Telamon gestures casually, and the spell fades. "It takes a little getting used to. But it can be handled." He rubs his chin. "Nowadays, be thankful haste does not fatigue you when the spell fades. I remember reading about how that was an issue with early attempts to codify the spell."

"But yes. First steps. Haste will let you strike with more alacrity, and quicken your pace. A man in full plate armor, under the effects of haste, can outpace one unburdened. Nothing like running down a criminal like a cheetah." His eyes meet Sir Seldan's, and his gaze moves back to Carver. "Remember, this is a place to learn as much as it is to strive. And even I've been guilty of showboating. But it's not a good habit to develop. Graveyards are full of showoffs, after all."

"Fine. 'msorry. I was showboatin' a lil." Carver says, with as much aplomb as her huffiness will allow. She will settle in amongst the other greenhorns again, whose loose collection of jittery formerly hasted bodies settle down to listen.

Seldan merely inclines his head to Telamon, and takes a step back, then folds his arms across his chest again. This lesson is not his to teach, and he knows it. He is an observer, nothing more, and he quiets to allow the lesson to continue without his interference. Although he does not openly identify himself to the greenhorns or the sergeant, there are enough scars on arms, chest, and shoulders, including one across his left collarbone that was clearly inches from being mortal, to suggest that he has seen a battlefield or two.

"I never said it was a good thing." Eztli shrugs. "But, yeah, it is for the best that you keep anything like that to safe places to show off, and you don't make a habit of it. I did think it was pretty cool when you tried, at least!"

Eztli continues grinning as they take a few steps back. "Sorry for interrupting. Spell doesn't last long, so I'll let you make the most of the rest of any drills."

"Better," Telamon says. "If Sir Seldan says something, you'd be wise to take it to heart." His gaze sweeps over the recruits, and the avuncular, cheerful expression is gone, replaced by a stern mien that seems far older than his years. "There will always be those who have lessons to teach you, and it's a good idea to listen, because often those lessons come from hard-earned experience."

He holds the recruits with his voice and gaze for long moments, before nodding. "Now, haste has its limits. The spell, even cast from a powerful magician with certain metamagic techniques, will not last more than four minutes. Typically it lasts three or less. So make the time count. And while the speed is there, don't expect to be able to do something like run up a vertical wall. It's best used to reposition without drawing attacks from a foe."

Seldan again inclines his head towards the group, then ducks it politely, seeming almost - embarrassed, perhaps? But, he draws a deep breath, and looks up again at the group to nod. "Do nothing on the practice field that you would not wish to do in the heat of battle, for it is that which your muscles know, and not that which your mind knows, that will rule you when your enemy is upon you.' This is said quietly, but audibly. "He speaks wisely," he adds, looking over at Telamon. "It will speed up your hands, as well as your feet, a thing that may be of great value, do you stand toe to toe. Seldom enough will that be so. Have you another that you would have them experience?"

"Well, I don't know. I'm not throwing any metal balls at anyone, usually. Somewhere safe is where you can let loose and test your limits." Eztli shrugs. "You aren't constantly carrying as much as you can possibly carry, but you have to push those limits at some point to improve."

"But don't listen to me, I really try to avoid actually getting hit by anything." The small makari snorts. "That being said? You're all probably moving like you never have before, but don't let that get to your head. If someone's right up in your face, even if you're moving twice as fast as you normally do, that person with a sword is still faster. Make sure you're still making good decisions, and not relying too much on how fast you can move."

"I can't put fly on them -- the sergeant nixed that idea even if I had the spell for it." Telamon grins at the sergeant, who simply snorts again. "So I'm thinking a little experiment here. Hmmm... you." He picks out one of the recruits, who points at himself before trotting up nervously. "Me, milord?" he squeaks out.

Tel smirks. "Yes, you. I'm going to demonstrate something here. Stand still." He begins to chant again. "Irhandi, paphal kalag!" and taps the fellow on the brow -- and he vanishes!

"Now, invisibility will protect you from the eye. But it won't make you quiet, and it doesn't eliminate any scent or vibration you make. These are all things that will defeat the cloaking illusion without actually breaking it. Yes, this means a good dog can probably find you."

GAME: Telamon casts Greater Invisibility. Caster Level: 19 DC: 23

Seldan nods to Eztli, inclining his head respectfully. "That is so," he agrees. "Pushing one's limits is well, and good habits persist." That is all he says, instead turning to watch the lesson at hand, and snorting at the mention of nixing flight. "As well. Flight is complex to learn, and seldom is needful in the city."

When the man vanishes, a small smile comes to his lips. "There are also magical counters for such things," he observes. "Yet, even does the dog find you, he can only tell where you are, not your actions, and thus do you yet hold the advantage."