Three Ingredients [Open]

[Reyn]

Sweat, blood, and tears...

Those where what made up any decent training field. One had to expect that when you stepped on to the sandy mock battle field that you would find no mercy in any form. After all, they weren't merely here to play. Warriors came to this field to learn to kill and there was no sugar coating it. The field stank of sweat, though it was nothing compared to the smell of war. The dank morbid scent of blood and carnage that all of them knew so well that it no longer phased them, at least in appearance. Today on this mock field of death thirty mean occupied fifteen white circles. Each of them was large enough to hold one hundred men standing, though they rarely held a fraction of that.

They lunged, hacked, and parried in a brutal manner. There were no frills. A real soldier couldn't afford to use flourishes in battle. There wasn't enough time. You needed to end your opponent and make their way onto the next opponent. Reyn knew that, just like every other man and woman who had stepped onto the field of combat and lived to tell the tale. Currently the scarred man was engaged in mock combat with a large elf who should have been called a giant. The larger elf carried a large cudgel that could have easily been a small tree trunk at one point in time. He was garbed in leather that cushioned the blow of any bladed weapon that came his way.

Reyn, the smaller of the two, was dressed in loose fitting clothes, bandages wrapped around his fists to enhance their punching power. In his scarred hands was a blunted spear. The fight between the two was evenly matched for a time. With Reyn dodging about his larger, slower weapon. The battle went of for a time before the larger man landed a blow to Reyn's stomach. The wind rushed from his lungs and he gasped for air, his lungs refusing to oblige him. As he suffocated the man reared back the large chunk of wood and slammed it into his chest. Reyn rocketed out of the small makeshift arena and landed several feet from where he once stood.

The larger elf let out a booming laugh, his jowls shaking at the sight of the crumpled man. "Good job, short stuff." he jeered as he slammed his bat-like weapon on the hard, compacted ground of the training grounds. Reyn said nothing as he sucked in a breath of sweet, sweet air. He winced with every breath, finding that his chest hurt from the massive blow. He winced as he forced himself up, using his spear, which had snapped on impact, as a makeshift cane. He stumbled away from the man, ignoring him as he called after Reyn. It wasn't worth it, he told himself as he hobbled to the fence that enclosed the field and sat upon it. He took in several deep breaths, each less painful then the last as he became accustomed to the feeling in his chest.

What's wrong little knight? Crim's voice echoed within his mind and he shot the female griffin a thought that emanated a feeling of wounded pride and a desire to be left alone. Crim obliged, retreating from his mind and leaving him to his own thoughts. As he sat there in silence, forcing his negative emotions out with every breath. Reyn tossed the shattered spear aside and covered his face. "I'm gonna need to make a new one." he muttered, discouraged at the fact that he would have to spend his newly earned coin. Being a peasant turned soldier had it's drawbacks and very little perks.

[Jamik Connell]

Not far down the fence from where the Knight had retreated stood another. This Knight was shorter yet stocky with silver and black armor. Red-eyed dragons decorated the neck of the breastplate. Usually one didn’t come to the fields in armor but Jamik had no intention of fighting. He’d returned from a journey into the dark lands and what he saw there was enough to put a worried scowl on his usually jovial face.

The army there was much larger than he’d expected, even though he had already heard rumors of its growing numbers. It seemed the Light Queen needed more and more trained men for combat or else it was very possible that the Light Kingdom would loose all together.

Thinking this over in his mind, Jamik worked on straitening leather cuff when he witnessed the defeat of the younger and much less equip solider. Jamik knew how he must have felt. It was frustrating to be defeated in the ring, but better to be better there than in real battle. He observed the larger Elf for a moment. Jamik felt it was very dishonorable of him to mock the loosing opponent when he had such an obvious advantage,

Looking to the defeated Elf, Jamik couldn’t help but notice his weapons and attire were rather worn. Apparently he hadn’t been as lucky as Jamik had to be born into wealth and to a father that made sure he had the best of all things. ‘Good armor and weapons could mean you life son. Make sure that it’s always well maintained.’ His father had spoken these words on many occasions.

He also noticed the other Knight to have apparent scars on his body as well, particularly one slashing down his cheek. The kind of Scar, it seems, a warrior was supposed to have. Not a pathetic deformity like the ones Jamik had. That he was envious of.

Watching until the Knight caught his eye he nodded and waved before walking over to him, “Don’t feel bad. You fought bravely and with honor.” Jamik said, extending his hand in friendship. He lowered his voice to say, “And that man is a coward if I ever saw one. He beats fellow Knights here while he should be fighting the enemy in the dark lands.”

[Reyn]

Reyn fumed for a few moments, allowing his anger to subside at his defeat. It didn't take long and eventually the boy was engrossed in observing the other fights. He was usually easily distracted by such things. His wandering gaze landed upon a man not too far from him. As his crimson colored eyes reached him the other man raised his hand in greeting. He was dressed in fine black armor, something most infantry men couldn't afford. He approached and as he did one thought popped up in Reyn's mind: knight. He was everything that Reyn aspired to be. He had money and social standing that he could use to provide for his family. Reyn was surprised to see him approach. Did he know where he was? Did knights even train with the usual enlisted men.

Reyn prepared a salute but was cut short when the man spoke to him. Reyn had to crane his head to hear the shorter man's whispered words. He laughed softly and then grabbed the other man's forearm, a greeting used by the enlisted men. "Mal's not so bad." Reyn said as he released the man's arm. "He's just a sore winner is all. He'll come back and apologize eventually. Though I must thank you for the compliment Sir." he said as he gave the man a smile. He chewed over what he said and then covered a smile when he realized that he thought that the rest of the men were knights.

"Sir, we aren't knights. We're the Queens infantry unit. The lowest of the low, if you will. Proud of it though." he slammed his heels together and brought up his hand in a salute. "Corporal Jonathan Reynhart, Airborne cavalry." he said before lowering the salute and relaxing. "It's refreshing to see a Knight out here when we're out here training. I usually don't see too many knights around in general. Some of them like to avoid us." he said, hunching his shoulders.

[Jamik Connell]

Jamiks eyebrows raised. So he had been away for longer than he thought if the Queen was pulling together the peasants and training them to be fighters. This was unheard of among the well off and Jamik didn’t know what to make of this. He cleared his voice and looked forward to watch the men who fought now with different eyes. What did this mean? Were the Knights all dying off? Disappearing on the blades of the enemy. The idea made his stomach tighten. Things were certainly beginning to look dim.

“Well I, never miss a chance to gain inside to fighting techniques.” He lied, still avoiding the eye contact of the peasant man. He ignored the salute and didn’t return it. After a moment of hesitation he glanced sidelong at the man again, “And when did this infantry come to being?”

There certain was a rift between the upper and lower class in the kingdom, and that was something Jamik hadn’t ever considered before. Maybe that was why the Dark Queens army prospered. There didn’t seem to be any rift. In fact she seemed to be willing to take into her army anyone who wanted to join. He couldn’t understand why it was anyone would be opposed to the Light Kingdom…

[Reyn]

"The infantry?" Reyn asked as he thought about it. Well, he had joined right about the time they had assembled the peasant fighting force. "It'll be close to a year now. We weren't heavily publicized back then. They ones that got it together figured that some of the nobility would have an issue with peasants fighting it out for them and might try to disband it. I really don't understand it though. Us peasants are a vital resource. The nobles use us to provide them with everything else so why wouldn't they want us to serve them in a time of war?" Reyn asked, momentarily forgetting he was talking to minor nobility. Once he got started on something rank and system no longer matter to him, it was a curse similar to his habit of zoning out and walking endlessly. "It's a fairly good system.

"All of us infantry men have a rank, kind of like you nobles, but not exactly. You enter in as a Private and work your way up. Eventually you earn a spot as something called an enlisted officer. They make sure that all of us peons are in the right place at the right time when we're on the battlefield. Off of it they aren't anything more than glorified baby sitters. Though, they get paid a lot more than any of us and they have to report directly to you Knights." he said as he rubbed the back of his head, mentally checking through all that he knew about the whole infantry system. It was still rather new and filled with problems but it was efficient.

"I'm sorry if I spoke too bluntly, sir." Reyn said, catching himself in his disrespectful tone. "It really is an honor to serve under Knights such as yourself... er, I don't believe that I've caught your name or title, sir." Reyn said, suddenly retreating back to the formality a peasant showed one of the Knight's rank.