The Training Grounds

[Prince Vayne Solidor]

It was one of those nights where his heart where begging for a hunt or a good battle, but being the only male son and heir of the Primarch title Vayne simple couldn't go out doing everything he wanted. So instead, he was in the training ground where the elite of the Artisian Legion was training in that moment the use of the sword. Vayne was never a strange to the ways of the sword, since a little kid he was trained to use any weapon as a extencion of his own body. Now, his ability with sword combined with his natural race strengths was enough to make him a living weapon. He could see that those man's where exceptional talented and very disciplined, listen closely to every word man training them was saying.

“Enough.” He said making his presence noticed. Seeing the prince approaching, the instructor and the legion immediately stop their training and assumed position. “Relax.” His voice was cold as his face, and soon he was besides the instructor, inspecting the Artisian Legion. “A nice little squad you have here.”

“They are the very best the Protectorate has to offer, your majesty.” Vayne sensed proud in the old man voice, but didn't pay much attention to it. They were indeed impressive, all in excellent shape and healt, and the way they hold their wooden sword was enough to tell that they were experts. But how good they really were? The Protectorate hasn’t see a war for almost 200 years, how good would they be when their life and the life’s of the others were in line? How good would they be against a superior enemy? Vayne feel that it was time to find out.

“You. Give me your sword.” He said to the nearest soldier, that immediately tossed his sword to the prince. Things would be more fun if they used their real swords, but he can’t afford to hurt the best the Protectorate has to offer. “Now I want four of you to step forward.” More than four man were ready to fight, which made Vayne smile a little for one second. Then the instructor said to make a circle around the five. “It’s not everyday you get to see a master of the blade in action and get out alive to tell” It was true. “So watch closely!”

As the night pass, Vayne trained with each one of the soldiers, either by fighting them or just teaching.

 

[nightimer]

From a nearby balcony the Lord-Commander of the Artirian Legion stands with helmet clipped to his belt and hands folded behind his back, observing [member="Prince Vayne Solidor"] as he meddles with the members of the Legion's Ostirithine Guard training in the courtyard. Jegan had spent many decades climbing the ranks of the Enclave and, as a rare exception to the strict rules of nobility, proved himself worthy of his current title. Unlike the Legion's Polodren Reserves -- the Sanctum's personal military units consisting of elite graduates of the Enclave and the Protectorate's army -- those within the ranks of the Ostirithine or Verathine Guard branches were taken, indoctrinated and trained from a young age in the arts of war.

Not only were these orphan warriors completely immersed in the discipline of both body and mind, they were ruthlessly conditioned to channel their remnant emotions into a wrath-fueled focus when engaged. Combined with their zealous loyalty to the Sanctum and their Lord-Commander, Jegan saw them as perfect instruments; truly the best the Protectorate could offer in it's current state.

His amber eyes stalk the Prince's movements, following him with unintentional contempt as he barks orders. He was well aware of the Solidor nobleman's skill with a blade and had great respect for the Prince, but this was his domain and he felt his teeth grind at the sight.

 

[Prince Vayne Solidor]

[SIZE=9pt]Vayne shouldn't be impressed by the soldiers of the legion, but he was. In one day of training, some of then learned things that Vayne took years to learn. When he finally was done with then, the prince took time to sit in the nearby balcony, and just then realized that he was being watched by the Lord-Commandar himself. The man was not good at hiding how he truly feels about seeing other people commanding his man, but as a prince, it was only natural for Vayne to do this. Still, he respected the man and didn't wanted to him to feel like he was taking over the legion for himself. Not that Vayne could simply do this, even with all his charm.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]“Lord-Commander.” He said with his habitual coldness. “I didn’t see you here. You trained your soldiers well, i have never seen warriors this quick to learn.”[/SIZE]

[member="Jegan Ekall"]

 

[nightimer]

"Lord Vayne," Jegan responds curtly, showing the Solidor-born son respect with a dip of his head. Looking out at the now empty training yard the Lord-Commander absorbs [member="Prince Vayne Solidor"]'s compliment. If there was one thing he would allow himself to be truly prideful of, it would be the success of his Artirian Legion.
"They are the best this Protectorate has to offer," he affirms confidently, giving a subtle nod to himself as he eyes the training dummies and scuffs in the grass where the men had been sparring "their Centurions are hand picked from the ranks of their corresponding branch and trained for years within the Academy, while the recruits are prepared from childhood." Jegan's gaze returns to the noble, his amber eyes narrowed with an assured expression "You would be hard pressed to find such men elsewhere in the Galaxy."

 

[Prince Vayne Solidor]

Vayne respond to the Lord-Commander with a silent nod. There was no need to say anything, he was right that vayne would have a hard time finding soldiers of equal value. After a quick second of silence, the prince stood up and hold the man’s gaze, a smile appearing in his face.
“It would be a honor to spar with one of the best warriors of the Protectorate.” He then toss his own wooden sword to the man as he walk back to the training grounds, and with a movement of his hand another wooden sword came flying to his hand. He then proceed to enter in a fighting stance where his right hand holding the sword would be pointing at his opponent, while his left hand would be free in his back. Free to use the force to his advantage. It was a stance hard to master, as it was need a certain grace in the moviments. Much like a dance.

[member="Jegan Ekall"]