Through Speech and Sword.

[Allielliot]

As he cleaned the blood from his last battle with the ogre scouts, Sain allowed his mind to wander over all of his experiences and doubt since he had come to this eternally precipitating landscape.

He had come originally with the intention of searching out the clues to his heritage that the Monks at Candle Keep had told him would be found in this land of Sundren, but as his love for this new land and the companions that he had met here grew his quest for personal absolution had taken a back seat to his desire to be able to hold his own with his friends and help to defend his new home.

To that end he had trained tirelessly and ceaselessly to master both his blade and his speech. He had spent days hunting the goblins in the hills, and when he felt comfortable that the farmers in that area where safe, at least for a time, he had headed to the forest to help with holding back the goblinoids gathered there.

For the last several months that is where he had been. repeating the tongue twisters that Master Osclow had tought him to help him with his stutter while he hunted down scouting parties for the border gaurds.

But now it was time for something else and he knew it. He had mastered what he could of the blade on his own, and he could say the tongue twisters forward and backward. If he could not find a blade master to teach him then he would have to have to learn new techniques from the book at the Sundren library and master them himself. He could even get more help from master Osclow while he was there.

Yes that was the path that he would take for now. The path of a Scholar Swordmaster. If he could not give himself the ability to entertain others as a minstrel then he would become worthy of story that the mistrels could tell. He would protect his new home, but for now that meant the Library.

He finished cleaning his blade and packed it away as he headed for the city. He would be doing a different kind of hunting today.

[Allielliot]

Swing , turn, stop, reverse the momentum at just the right time, keep the balance.

The mantras of the blade forms ran through his head as a background noise while Sain's thoughts wondered on thier own. He was near Sundren city training to perfect the forms that he had discovered that day in his research in the library, but as he neared mastering his blade more difficult questions returned to mind.

His mother, this bard that the monks had told him had traveled to these lands before returning to the south to die with him in her arms near the walls of the Keep. Who had she been, why had she been in Sundren, and what had driven her to flee with her newborn son. Running with no concern for herself until she eventually died of it.

This was a problem that he could not handle yet. With the next slash of his blade he parted that line of thought and left it behind...

and it was quickly replaced. What to do with himself and this new skill with the blade? He wanted to defend people, to be a hero, but how could he best do this? He could no longer just hunt in the forest alone. That was not enough. He had heard of the Red Blades, the blade master defenders of Sundren. That seemed a logical place to start.

There was that answer. When he finished with the Library he would get in contact with the officials of the Red Blades, and offer his sword arm as an innitiate.

Next he thought of Master Osclow. So patient with him and his stutter. He was more than grateful to the bard for the progress that they were making with his stutter, and hopefully with a few more months of practice he would be rid of it, at least when he was calm.

Despite everything else that thought brought a smile to his face as he finished his form. Bare to the waist, sweating, and short of breath after hours of practice; he began, in his mind, to sing to Milil. Things were bad. He still had no answers to his past, and Sunren seemed to be threatened from every angle.

But he would soon be able to sing to Milil out loud, and the next time that Sundren needed defending he would stand in the front lines wth his comrades. A master of both his tongue and his blade with a song on his lips. Ready to face whatever was foolish enough to come against them.

In his head he sang.