Ymiden 80 Arc 716
Training Grounds
Training Grounds
Not a lot of time had passed since Yana had been accepted as a squire in the Iron Hand’s Moseke Knights, and she hadn’t been able to gather a lot of information yet, but she’d been given a room in the barracks where the whole of the military resided, and that promised enough chances to observe and spy. Well, in her free time. She had discovered, not unlike her expectations, that the life of a squire was largely composed of training. Free time was scarce, but it mattered little. Yana’s memory was good, and the more important and interesting chunks of knowledge or information she could recall long enough to note them down when she had the chance.
But at the moment, this was not such an opportunity.
Instead, she and her fellow squires found themselves at the training grounds again, this trail, having had their meal and a small break for noon. It was once more time for drills, basic strength training, and of course, the basics of combat. Mock fights were part of the course as well. All squires had lined up in anticipation of the drillmaster’s arrival, having already come to the conclusion that discipline was important and slacking was hardly something that would be tolerated. Those not lined up received a form of punishment in the shape of more extra exhausting exercises. There had been plenty new squires who had been subjected to them on day one, despite the warnings of older, more learned squires. There hadn’t been anyone who’d been willing not to wait while lined up and standing straight. Of course, there were those who complained, and if those were heard by a tutor, they received punishment for that as well. Usually, whiners did not last long in a military organization.
So they waited, silently, for the drillmaster to show up, someone doing a quick count of the heads to ensure himself no-one was running late. If there was one thing that was even worse than lack of discipline, it was arriving late. One did not simply show up late on training sessions. Running late meant everyone living in the same room as the latecomer would go running later, with a backpack filled with stones, at night. Running late meant they would go running late. The knights did have a sense of humor, though no squire really appreciated it.
Bits passed, and finally approaching footsteps could be heard. Everyone quickly assumed the same posture, the sound of heels being brought together ringing through the area, while arms came up in a salute. The drillmaster slowly paced to his usual spot, taking a long look at the trainees before he nodded in satisfaction. “At ease.” The squires broke their salute, folded their arms behind their back and planted their feet on the ground, a shoulder length apart. “Alright! We will be continuing where we left off this morning,” he boomed, pausing a moment to spy for whining or complaint. He clapped his hands when he heard not even the lowest of whisper, or most silent of sighs. “Chop chop.”
All squires turned around as if they were one single being –only a couple either falling behind a little, or reacting a bit faster than the rest- and headed for the stash where the training weapons were kept. A few went in to pass the items to the rest of their colleagues, who patiently waited in line. This was both the quickest way and the most organized of the methods to distribute the gear. Rushing in to grab a wooden sword and a shield for yourself not only resulted in chaos and pushing and wasting time, but also in the displeasure of the drillmaster who was more than glad to dole out more punishment for that display of behavior unbecoming of a squire. Headless Chickens, he’d called the group, after which had followed tiring strength trainings exercises before they’d started the actual training. Needless to say that it had become much harder in turn, sore and tired muscles not lending themselves well for exhausting drills.