Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Nov 10, 2011 19:43:10 GMT -6
Derick was roused out of a sound sleep by a male voice, "Hey...new guy...the commander wanted to speak to you." Derick was a morning person, his voice was already sharp and alert, "I'm on the way," he called through the cloth of the tent wall. He grabbed his gear, which he had neatly arranged next to the cloak he used at night for sleeping, and slipped outside the tent. The Ilian breeze gave Derick a rude awakening. He shivered in his clothing as he began strapping on his brand new armor. He couldn't help but smile as he belted each piece into place. Gone were the days of wearing the over-sized armor of his former sergeant, this new suit of armor fit perfectly.
It was an hour before dawn, the sky was painted vivid shades of red and orange. The blankets of snow, permanent features of Ilia, were glowing mellowly, later they would become a treacherous mirror as the sun rose. Derick smiled appreciatively, and whistled a light tune as he belted on his breast plate. He reached for his slim lance and began the short trek through the snow towards Clair's tent. The skies were clear, it looked like the coming days of travel would be worry free, a sharp contrast to the blizzard they had to contend with yesterday. He breathed a contended sigh, and smirked as his breath fogged, Derick had an appreciation for simple joys at times, almost childlike.
He found himself standing before Clair's tent much quicker than expected, he was nervous. Shape up, a voice in his head, implanted through training. He obeyed the command, straightening his back and planting his feet, he looked like a trained soldier, or so he thought. After a moment of silence, he called towards her tent, "commander?" He paused...unsure of how to proceed, "I was told you wanted to see me." Worry started to kick in, maybe she doesn't want a Bernese soldier traveling with them after all...maybe I didn't perform well enough in that fight...Did I kill a friendly?... Derick stood in the cold and waited, his insecurities nibbling away at his mind.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 13, 2011 10:42:50 GMT -6
Despite the busy day they'd all had before, Clair had actually managed to sleep fairly well. A combination of exertion and relief at having come to a conclusion about where her next destination was. Evidence pointed to Etruria once again being the culprit here. Whether they were or not, she had plans to ride down and give them a taste war as she rejoined the army on her way back to Bern. It was out of the most direct route, but she'd decided that it was not out of her way. The Inquistional army had asked for it.
It was still very early when she'd gotten up and started preparing herself for the day. She'd noticed the chilly bite of the air had not improved as she shook her hair out that morning. The metal plates of her armor had been frigid as she'd buckled on her breastplate and pauldrons, but the warmed up enough to not prove an issue.
As she set about studying a map, looking for a good passage from where they were, to the land to their south, she sent for Derick. She'd been hearing reports about him from some of the soldiers. About how he fought. She'd notice his nature change during combat as well, and thought it was time to have a chat about it.
And there he was now.
"Come in, Derick. It's cold out there." Inside, Clair was leaning over a map layed out on a folding table. A collapsible cot was shoved over in a corner of the tent, her blanket tossed haphazardly across it. A small pair of candles, one currently held in her hand, cast the only light filtering through the tent. The only thing notable about it was the size, which was a bit more than she needed. It made her seem a bit smaller than usual if one looked at the surrounding space with the spartan furnishings.
"I've been hearing you fought well yesterday." Clair said as she looked up on his entrance. She'd heard more than that, but no need to rush this matter.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Nov 13, 2011 11:39:00 GMT -6
"Come in, Derick. It's cold out there."
"Yes ma'am.." Perhaps it was because Clair was a falcoknight, but for some reason, Derick assumed that the cold didn't affect her. He ducked into the tent and gave it a once over. There was a map spread in the center of the tent, at first glance, it made no sense to Derick, but as he looked more closely it bore a resemblance to his own map of Ilia. Derick took a seat across from Clair. The tent was quite sizeable, and Derick found himself scooting closer just so it didn't seem like he was distancing himself.
"I've been hearing you fought well yesterday."
Derick's expression froze, he wasn't sure what kind of details she had, but he could only pray that there wasn't much to go on. "It was nothing..." that was honest, Derick was still a little sore from the repeated wounds he sustained yesterday. He shifted in the candlelight as he remembered yesterday's battle. "Ah!" Derick jumped as memories resurfaced, "I never go to thank you..for saving me." He chose not to bring up the interrogation, he had a sneaking suspicion that they were heading in that direction anyways.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 15, 2011 22:44:33 GMT -6
Clair caught a glimpse of his face as it seemed to freeze up for a moment. She was on the right track to something here. She just needed to keep digging a bit more to find out what it was though.
"Don't worry about it. I didn't do much either.... Just showed up with a healer." A small humorless grin quirked its way across her face. She set the candle she was holding next to the one already on the table, and brushed her hair back over one ear with her other hand. "I just remembered that you seemed to be ill before the battle yesterday. Right as we came into town. Do you remember?"
He'd been sweating, and breathing hard then. It had been enough for her to dismount her pegasus, and come back to check on him.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Nov 18, 2011 14:41:44 GMT -6
Derick knew full well what she was talking about. His combat reflex had lain dormant for too long, it had been threatening to overwhelm him. She had come over to check on him, and Derick had the feeling she didn't do that often. He shifted uncomfortably and spoke flatly, hiding any emotion, "I remember." He looked neutrally into her eyes, he wasn't trying to be unfriendly, he just didn't want to be disowned and/or killed.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 18, 2011 21:22:57 GMT -6
It wasn't hard for Clair to tell that she'd hit an uncomfortable topic. The way he suddenly got quiet made her feel a bit uncomfortable herself for pressing him on it. It was an unknown though, and Clair was a planner. She needed to know if having him around was going to put her or the others in danger.
"Derick, it's obvious you don't feel at ease about this, but I need to know that I'm not putting my soldiers in undue danger by having you around. What's your story?" She fixed him with a look. Not harsh. Just patient. She wouldn't be doing this if she didn't see it as her responsibility.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Nov 19, 2011 16:08:17 GMT -6
Derick sighed and made the decision to yield to the commander's...his commander's pressure. He looked into her even blue eyes, "What you saw...was the result of a condition I have...I call it my 'combat reflex'. I've had it since I was young." Derick rose and started pacing around the room, he might as well start at the beginning, "It first became apparent when I was about 14, another kid and I were picking on each other, and it got out of control.." Derick's eyes misted and he sounded as distant as the memory he was recounting, "I don't know what happened, I passed out, but when I awoke, there was a lot of blood." Derick frowned, "my family was embarrassed, they turned me over to the military, who took a great interest in me."
Derick came to a stop and stood over the map, "they approved of my...abilities, and wanted to harness them, but they couldn't...I'm not aware of what I do when I fight." He sat back down and looked into Feldsky's eyes again, "all I know is that I love it." He would get to how he got kicked out of the military, she would need to hear it now...But he wanted to give her time to process as well.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 22, 2011 21:28:05 GMT -6
Clair listened as Derick told his story. It wasn't something of the common sort. In fact, it sounded pretty bad. She'd heard of accounts of fighters who just had had too much fighting. They couldn't deal with it any more, and cracked. But Derick had lived with it from when he was only a lad. She couldn't begin to imagine the sort of stress losing control put on him. Even if he said he enjoyed it....
"It would make sense that Bern would want to learn to use your battle lust. They were always a very warlike people...." Clair's voice sounded a bit vacant as she spoke, but then she returned to the matters before her.
"You love it? Explain." She looked him over again, wondering if she'd really misjudged his personality by that much. "I didn't expect you to enjoy violence quite this much."
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Nov 22, 2011 21:55:42 GMT -6
Derick frowned at his commander. Her had become a little distant, and she seemed more gentle than previous when she directly addressed, similar to how doctors spoke when they were breaking bad news.
"I didn't expect you to enjoy violence quite this much."
Ah! Now he understood...but that wasn't what he meant! He stumbled over his words a bit when he began speaking, "W-well it's just from a feeling I get b-beforehand..." He noted with a bitter sense of irony that he almost sounded like he had before the village skirmish, "maybe it's d-during too...I'm not sure..." He was gesturing with his hands a bit, trying to convey an idea that was almost beyond speech.
"I just get relaxed, lighthearted even...When my fellow recruits were shaking, throwing up, whatever else they did..." he shrugged, "I was always fine. Happy even." He hung his head at this point, he spoke to the ground, but he spoke clearly, "everytime the fighting really starts...I don't remember it.....I only know what happened when I wake up and see the blood." Speaking about his reflex seemed to aggravate it, the back of his skull was throbbing, "and the pain," he added as an afterthought.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 23, 2011 21:15:59 GMT -6
It really was an unusual dilemna. Blood lust, and sudden loss of control by the sounds of things. She wasn't sure what to think of it. It was a little unnerving, honestly. It made him into a loose cannon, which was about as far from her preferred tactics as you could get.
"Derick, you're going to have to master this, or you could become a danger to your friends. I can't keep someone who loses control of themselves in my command." It was about as blunt as she could get with him.
"Cmon." She stood up, and picked up her lance from by the cot. "Let's go outside and have a little exercise. It could be that I could help you master yourself." She wasn't sure how likely that was, when the entire Bernese training system had failed. It wasn't in her to leave this alone though.
The air still carried the crisp frost of the night, but the sun was starting to rise, spreading a golden glint across the snow. She breathed in the cold air, and felt it burning inside her. Once, she'd discussed her homeland with Richter. She'd thought of it as a harsh testing field. She still thought of it as such, but she no longer trusted it quite as much as she used to.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Nov 23, 2011 22:53:34 GMT -6
"Derick, you're going to have to master this, or you could become a danger to your friends. I can't keep someone who loses control of themselves in my command."
She was absolutely right, of course. Derick breathed a sigh of relief, he wouldn't have to confess that he had killed a former comrade after all. He nodded in agreement to her words.
"Cmon." She stood up, and picked up her lance from by the cot. "Let's go outside and have a little exercise. It could be that I could help you master yourself."
Derick's mouth fell open, the word "exercise" did not bode well combined with Clair picking up her lance. She was a Falcoknight! She was practically a lance gospel! He remained in the tent after she left, at war with himself. Heading outside with her meant that he was going to get destroyed, probably multiple times. Even as doubt rested in his mind, he felt his combat reflex starting up...He couldn't back down from this--no, he wouldn't back down from this. It was time to face himself.
He grabbed his lance and stepped out into the harsh climate. It was absolutely frigid, with the sun still finding its heat. Derick liked the cold though, it sharpened him, and focused his mind. He would need all the willpower he could get. He stood beside Clair, taking in the sight of endless snow that he was slowly growing found of. He opened his mouth to speak, but he realized he had no idea what they were doing, "so..." He looked over at her profiled face, his fear was slowly being wiped away by the tides of exhilaration and bloodlust. "W-what exactly are we d-doing?"
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 25, 2011 10:31:22 GMT -6
The Falcoknight considered the question for a moment. Her goal was twofold here. She needed to assess Derick in combat for herself, and she needed to begin establishing a method of control. How exactly she was going to do that, she wasn't sure yet, but she had a direction to go on.
"We're going to have a sparring session, and I'm going to see you in action for myself." She answered calmly, turning to face him fully. She probably going to end up needing to snap him out of his combat reflex at some point. With all the snow around though, that would be a simple matter of slinging a fair bit into his face.... And if the cold shock didn't work, then she'd just have to find some other way of managing it. This was almost like a recon mission, but not quite. She relaxed a bit at that thought. She had no idea what she was dealing with just yet, but she'd accepted Derick. She owed him this.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Nov 25, 2011 10:59:40 GMT -6
Fear and excitement were battling for control over Derick's heart. He opened his mouth to speak, and in that minuscule moment, the choice was fully his own. "Yes ma'am," his voice was steady, but as he took a few steps away from Clair, he felt his combat reflex fire up again. Derick stood about 10 feet away from Clair. In most sparring situations, this would be unusual, but since they were both using lances, the gap would feel much smaller.
Derick faced Clair and settled into a combat stance, his vision was failing, his combat reflex was seeping into his conscious thought like a toxic wave. His heart was racing, his breath was baited, and Derick struggled to hold on as he waited for Clair's say-so to begin.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 25, 2011 19:36:30 GMT -6
Clair also dropped back into a ready stance. Relax. Focus. Be aware of your surroundings. Your opponent. Yourself. The iron tip of her lance pointed the way. It was leveled right at Derick, dancing lightly from left, to right, up and down, in no discernible pattern. Ordinarily, she'd maintain this to make it harder to predict where she'd strike, but this time, she decided to limit herself. She slowed the tip's movement somewhat.
She could see that he was already being affected by his combat reflex as she readied herself. It was unusual to see, now that she knew more about what was going on.
"Are you ready to go?" Clair asked, deliberately stalling to check his reaction.
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Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Derick on Nov 26, 2011 18:48:27 GMT -6
Derick opened his mouth to reply, but then he was gone. He surged forward, opting to go on the offensive. His boots shifted, and he struggled to maintain his balance for a moment before his right foot gained traction.
Derick dashed forward, bringing himself within range. His left arm, his spear arm, reached back, opening himself briefly in an effort to put his full weight into his attack. His lance tip wavered only slightly as it plunged towards Clair...
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