The pointy end goes into the other man. (Open/ Combat Training)

Hyght sat on his bed, the bottom bunk of Gricelda's once solo ruled bed, and stared at the plain looking short sword that laid across his lap. The young baker ran a thin cleaning rag over the flat of the blade, taking in its gray color and smooth texture. "A sword," he murmured, "is simply metal put to shape in a forge and used to defend yourself and others." He spoke as if he were reading a cue card. Nervous sweat had pebbled his brow. With a sharp curse he wiped the beads from his face with the back of his hand and turned the blade over. He inspected the other side for nicks, smudges, and cracks all things he knew wouldn't be there. He'd been up since zero four hundred inspecting, cleaning and reinspecting his weaponry. He was obviously nervous, though he didn't dare say the words.

The chirping alarm of Hyght's Scroll came to life from the nightstand by the heads of the beds. Hyght felt himself jump slightly in a start and stare at the flashing time on the screen. His eyes had shot wide when the alarm roped him back to reality. He made a quick exhale and shook his head before dismissing the alarm. The inexperienced fighter noticed then that spears of sunlight had pierced through the blinds on his dorm room window. He wasn't sure if his roommates would be participating in the class today but he hoped they weren't or if they were, he hoped they'd not show till after his turn. Today was his first day of combat training. With one last look at the sword he sighed and knew he was only stalling. He gathered up his shield, slid it over one shoulder and sheathed his short sword before he let the door click shut behind him.

It didn't take Hyght long to find the room where his first lesson in combat would be held. As he approached he already heard multiple people talking about their anticipation to fight and where they had trained before coming to Syne. The pudgy baker felt a strong want to turn and walk away, to leave and not go through something that he found scary. Hyght wasn't a fighter, he knew that and never had any qualms with it.

You're gonna have to raise your arms in a fight at some point as a Huntsman, boy. He heard Mason's voice recall back to him. You're going to be the last line of defense to protect people from the horrors of the Grimm.

But I've never fought before. I don't even like the idea of fighting! Hyght cried and received a flat look from Mason's craggy face.

It isn't about what you like or dislike, son. It's about what needs to be done to protect yourself and others. Mason had said with a look to Hyght's gear. You've got a shield and a sword, tools used to both attack and defend. You've got heart and your damned stubborn too. I can see that even from our short time together. Just remember why you sought me out and twisted my arm to bring you along. He said with a warm smile.

Hyght let out a long sigh and fixed his eyes on the small crowd outside the room. "Right..." He opened and closed his right hand and stood straighter. "Sooner in the sooner it's done." He said with grim humor and stepped into the crowd as they began to file into the classroom.

He had grown rusty, that much he knew. He had tried to push it to the back of his mind for years now, but there was no changing reality. The bandages lacing the side of his body served as a grim reminder of that.

The area where the blade had torn open his flesh still stung as if fifty needles were pressing into it, their tips as hot as blazing coals. Caernarvon was no stranger to pain, however, and the scars etched across his back were more than enough to prove it. Even so, he knew there was a limit to what his body could endure. That was why he was going to make sure he wouldn’t loosen his guard like he had before.

There was a strong singular reason that explained why Caern was heading to the training grounds today. Not for glory, not to show off, but to actually improve. There were many things that he hoarded, but he didn’t want battle wounds to be among them. As such, he only had The Backup Plan slung across his back for show today, for today he would have no use for it. His fists and his aura were all he needed to handle himself on the training grounds. That was the challenge, and he would either accept this challenge or not fight at all.

Caern pinched the cigarette lodged between his lips with the inner edges of his pointer and middle fingers, pulling the glowing miniature log of paper and tobacco out and exhaling a thick puff of smoke into the stale air of the training arena. It was a pretty small place compared to some others, disc-shaped in nature and flanked by a smattering of different seats which allowed spectators to look down upon the various fights. The arena itself was filled with a rainbow of different people streaming in from one of the doors, odds were that all of them thought themselves capable of becoming hunters. Caernarvon felt the same as them in his more naiive years, but he had since awakened from that foolish dream. He was only here to learn, nothing more, he told himself.

There was no point delaying any further, Caernarvon thought as he stepped away from the crowd and towards the center of the area.
“Hello young hunters and huntresses in training!” He called out to the room bombastically, tossing his cigarette aside. “My name is Caernarvon Royce and I have a proposition for you all: if you can beat me within a single minute, you can become the proud owner of, errm,” He dug around in of his coat pockets, feeling the eyes of the nearby students boring into him like lasers. His hand gripped a golden coin he had found overseas. It was rare enough to be of value but not so rare as to be irreplacable. Caernarvon held it to the air, looking over all those who were present critically. “This thing! It’s a coin, see, so of course it’s valuable. So, uh, any takers?” He fully expected to be parting with that coin today, but it was not about keeping it in the first place: it was about how long he would last.

And he intended on lasting for awhile… Unless a teacher shut him down premautrely, of course. Wouldn’t that be a shame.

Riley Stanos; She hadn't grown rusty or anything. She just liked punching things. It was a job for her after all. She had seen a class that involved fighting on her schedule, so she decided that it was THAT class she'd go to. She was edging close when she looked at her hands. They're covered in bandages. She planned on going all out, and she knew that there was few that could match her. She decided not to think on that though. She was here to fight.

She entered the room shortly after, and heard a man about her size yell something about being unbeatable, at least, that's how she took it. She crooked her eyebrow, her 6'3" size frame shifting to full height. She towered over some in there, and some were taller, but few were bigger. This guy, he looked stockier then her, but she figured she could take him in a single punch.

She started running forward at him, but noticed a nobody attacking him first, and she wasn't having that. She diverted her path with a strafe, and leaped into a hook into the poor kid's jaw, sending him down, and then with a trained pivot she went for it. She would have been behind the man in a hat, and was aiming for the back of his head. That took most people down, but even then, she was sure she'd catch her hand.

"Uhh..." Hyght said eloquently as the scene of what might be taken straight from a cheesy fighting movie began to unfold. The pudgy baker stood near the back of the class and moved just out of the pathway of the door before someone issued a challenge to the inhabitants of the class. With a stare of disbelief Hyght regarded the tall stranger with an odd sense of curiosity. The man was of an impressive height, he stood a few inches taller than Hyght, whom had always considered himself decently tall. Since his arrival in Syne, however, he's realized he isn't too off from the average height for a male human. This reoccurring blow seemed to annoy the young baker a bit more than he wanted to admit.

The tall man also wore a hat, one of those old-timey ones that seemed to go well with the nicely tailored suit the man had covering his frame. As he spoke he fished into his pocket and produced a small coin of some sort. Hyght wasn't able to make out anything of relevance on the coin but he claimed it was of some type of value. The response to his challenge was practically instantaneous. Hyght watched as someone with a heavy mace shot forth with surprisingly speed and rose the mace in what looked to be the telegraphing of a devastatingly powerful smash. The attack wouldn't make it to its intended target as another grossly tall figure, this one with long blond hair and red clothes, dashed in and intercepted the mace wielder and with a single hook, snapped the head of the attacker back, and sent him end of teakettle a handful of feet away. The mace wielder didn't move for a moment and Hyght felt his stomach lurch in sudden worry for the boy.

A sudden gasp rippled through a small section of the crowd as the blond fighter had closed the distance between the challenger and the attacker. Ripping Hyght's attention from the boy and he stood in awe, his mouth agape, and his attention grabbed. Hyght was no fighter and watching the simple executions of such a destructive attack made him realize how out of his depth he truly was.

Perhaps he should have explained the rules before randomly starting a mosh pit… Or perhaps he shouldn’t have. At least he got what he wanted in the end.

First some kid with a mace came charging at him, didn’t look like he had a plan in mind other than “hit that guy with my big stick” which was a failing strategy through and through. Caernarvon put his coin back into his pocket and fell into a back stance, making sure to keep his head safe and flaring up his golden aura to be able to block the incoming strike and disarm the foolish boy. His two arms were positioned outwards, feeling about as thick as tree branches and perhaps far more durable, right fist closer to his chin while his left probed the outside, ready to grab the weapon as it came at him.

However, someone else emerged from the crowd: Female, instantly recognizable as taller than him and clearly exceptionally strong. As if this wasn’t obvious enough, she sent the mace wielder onto his back with a single strike like it was nothing and moved to flank Caernarvon. The gangster spun around, keeping his arms out in front of him. The mystery woman came in with an attack from what would have been his rear… But Caern could see it coming a mile away. The action was signalled through how she approached him, hardly being subtle about what her next action might be.

Knowing it would be foolish to take on someone like this in hand to hand, Caern decided it was time to practice his footwork.
“Keep that up and you just might hurt someone, buddy,” He said, stepping aside from his opponent’s first strike and putting his arms in the pockets of his coat. After the woman’s initial display it didn’t seem like anyone else was in the mood to interrupt the two. A little smirk would appear on Caern’s face. “That leaves fifty seconds. Clock’s a ticking.”

What an arse. He dodged her first hit, and that made Riley furious, but slightly impressed. A lot of people, especially caught off guard, would get hit and knocked straight down and out. The anger subsided when she realised that this may actually be a challenge. She cracked her shoulder for about a second before smiling. She had a bit of her own footwork, and she’d decide to show it off. You don’t become a world champion boxer without having footwork, so she switched her stratagy.

She shuffled towards the man, noting how he dodged her first punch. She, as soon as she got close enough, would throw two right-handed jabs towards his head, and then a left hook to his ribs. (All count as one attack) She, if none of those connected, would shift back and wait for him to attack. Surely, a man with his stature could put up some fight in a hand to hand fight. Seriously, if he couldn’t,what a screw up.

"They're amazing." Hyght said, his eyes wide in awe. "They're moving to fast, trying to predict the other's moves and counter before the other had time to react." He shivered and torn his eyes from the scene. His dark eyes scanned the crowd of students, many had the same slackjawed expression on their faces as he no doubt did. Hyght could see a few near him swallow nervously which made him feel a bit better, in a strange sort of realization that he wasn't the only one that needed the training. Throughout the crowd there were some that stared on with what looked to be apathy in their eyes. Some watched with white knuckles around the hilts and grips of their weapons. Hyght watched a one or two lifted their weapons only to have another place their hand on their shoulder or weapon and stop them. He could see their lips moving in silent reprimand and render a nod toward the prone body of the overzealous mace wielder.

Hyght turned his head to see the young man struggle to get to his feet. It took him a moment or two, just enough time for the tall blond to throw two jabs and step into her hook. Someone near the obviously dazed mace wielder offered him a hand and tried to get him to follow them to the side lines. Hyght watched as the mace wielder waved off the assistance and stumble drunkenly toward the two fighters. "Oh god." Hyght gasped and sprinted to the foolish young man. "Hey hey hey!" He called in hopes of catching the attention of the lumbering oaf. Hyght wasn't fast, he didn't have much in the way of endurance either so the effort of the sprint was enough to wind him rather quickly. He knew he couldn't stand up to the two fighters but with a look to the mace wielder's current state, he felt he had the better chance of surviving.

Hyght's heart thudded savagely against his chest and his lungs burned with strain. You're so out of shape. His mind said to him as he caught up to the man just as a silver line of something shot forth and wrapped around the staggering man's right arm. Hyght say the brilliant shine of the whip as it circled the limb twice and snapped tight just before the man flew back ten feet and was pulled to safety. Hyght skidded to a stop but was met with an uneven spot in the floor and toppled forward, his arms flailed uselessly in an arching windmill before he met with the ground not ten feet from the two fighters. Bright light flashed before his eyes and the taste of iron filled his mouth as his chin cracked against the stone titled floor.

The young baker blinked stars from his vision as he watched the two mountain-like fighters dance their violent waltz. Though part of him knew he should move, his body didn't seem to respond to the danger his instincts told him he was in. He just sat there, his head beginning to throb, and watching the exchange of fists.

Caernarvon let the adreneline take hold of his actions as his powerful opponent came in with a set of simple- yet swift- strikes towards his cranium.

He leaned out of the way of the first one, feeling the wind behind the fist playing upon his cheek. The second one he ducked under just in time. The only reason he managed to evade these in the first place was because he was focusing soley on evasion, otherwise either his body or his arms would be hurting badly from taking those punches. If one thing was for sure, though, this kind of training was the best way to improve. Petty quibbling in a classroom got you nowhere.

In the corner of his vision he saw that overeager student from before still lumbering towards him, a cocktail of passion, determination, and anger burning in his eyes. If Caern didn’t watch out he’d be outnumbered two to one soon, but he could feel the weakness of this person… He had the look of someone who hadn’t killed before, that overeager drive only a newcomer could possess. Poor kid, it appeared as if he was going to have to learn how to judge fights the hard way.

Another student came up from behind him. Caern was surprised… Perhaps too surprised in addition to being too caught up in different affairs to effectively counter the incoming blow to his ribs. The fist hit him hard, a massive blut pain running through the effected area. Caern could tell right away there would be a lovely bruise awaiting him there the following morning, if not a few partially dislocated ribs. The strike had collided with a dull, meaty thud, knocking the detective back a couple of inches with its force. Caern still stood at full height, however, a frown forming on his face and his eyes dropping to see the effected area. Pain no longer bothered him much- especially the blunt kind. He had feasted upon all kinds of pain, but hated burning the most and the sharp kind second. This, on the other hand, was nothing to him.
“Hmph, good eye. Keep on the lookout for when your enemy is distracted, that’s how you win fights.” Caern said, still not bothering to remove his hands from his coatpockets. There was another student, though, one that had fallen just a while away from them. He was that poor sod who was trying to pull back mr Mace. The detective felt no pity for him, though. Perhaps his son would have, the pansy, but not him.

He had been told how the world operated: helping people always prevented them from growing, from becoming stronger. A simple act of kindness eliminated the pivotal moments of hardship in one’s life… At these times, humans would either wallow in their own failures or become stronger. It was an important threshold, one that he himself had crossed years before. Caernarvon turned to face the boy who had fallen, a cold frown and a furrowed brow affixed to his visage, “Listen, I bet you thought you were about to help that student, didn’t you?” He said, keeping a wary eye on his opponent as he spoke. “Well I don’t know who pulled him off, but they deprived that guy of his opportunity to grow. You only learn through hardships, kid, no pain no gain. You were brave enough to make it this far, now take it a step forward: step into the ring. That’s how you’ll get better, not with this weakling curriculum they have you following now. So what’ll it be?”


[Aura: 150/175 Since sparring and ye. Also, sorry for delay.]

Hardship being a growing point couldn't be more true. Her entire boxing thing came from a kid punching her in the nose at the age of 10. Nine years later, poof. She was the champ. The one everyone looked up to. She went from zero to hero in nine years. Wasn't much though. This guy looked like he had been through a few things, and had seen worse. Riley could feel. She's seen cruelness. She's heard it, but never been at the heart of it for one reason. She fought to stay on the outside. So, she had crossed the hard way, that no pain, no gain was too real.

After all. Physical shots didn't hurt her much anymore. She took those daily for years, even her mental strength was above par. After all, death threats and such often happened, and she fortified herself against those. It wasn't that hard after awhile. Years of it took it's toll, sure, but it wasn't much compared with the possible bonus'. The possible growth. So she stepped back, grinning after he finished his words.

"He ain't wrong. If you don't fight, you ain't gonna get better at it. I've been fighting for... sh*t, has it been 9 years now? Maybe. Possibly more. World champion boxer Riley Stano's at your service. Not the best at training people, but if you needed a skilled boxer to train against, guess you could come to me. After all, I have a lethal left hook."

The exchange seemed to pause for a breath as the two fighters offered words to the prone baker. Hyght gazed up at them, his world still tilted but found himself able to understand what they said. The suited man thought that every moment of pain was a lesson. Or that's how Hyght had interpreted it and that fiery boxer seemed to agree. They both voiced the fact that if one did not fight then they would not improve in terms of combat. This was sound logic and something Hyght begrudgingly agreed with. It was why he had forced himself here and part of the reason he had found himself on the floor of the training room.

"Yeah. Die in my first lesson. That sounds like a plan." He said sardonically as he climbed to his feet and allowed himself time to let his world straighten out again. He staggered for a moment but once the ground was secured under foot he lifted his head and peered over his glasses at the duo. "If I fought you now, I'd lose easily." He said without rancor, "Though that's not to say with some practice I'd be able to last that minute you two are going for." Hyght looked between the two fighters and noticed that neither was using a weapon, the woman, apparently a boxer, only used her fists while the suited man had his hands stuffed into his pockets.

Hyght took two unconscious steps back from the dance partners and found himself shaking. The thought of him fighting without any instruction of how to do it made him quiver with fear. "Uh..." He said elegantly and swore. "Bones. I came here to learn..." Hyght released a breath and found himself shrugging off his shield and placing it onto his right arm while he drew his sword with his left. "Make sure my headstone is pretty at least." He said darkly and raised his shield into a novice-like guard. Hyght's feet were too close together and his left arm was out too far that if he did swing it would be telegraphed more than amateur choreography. He knew what would happen if he didn't make the first move but his feet didn't want to listen and he stood there, staring into the eyes of two people with more experience than most of the people in the room put together. Bones. He swore to himself and watched the smack down unfold.

“Well I appreciate your, errm, ‘enthusiasm’, kid, but I’m not the one you have to worry about right now,” Caernarvon said, a mischievous grin forming on his face. “You see, if I remember correctly, I never said I needed to fight you two. All I need to do is last a single minute without getting my aura knocked down. And, uh, if I’ve been counting correctly, it seems you two have just thirty seconds to finish me or I get to keep my coin. Capisce?”

The detective readied himself again for what his opponents might be planning. He felt quite happy he managed to both help someone get their life on track and waste time simultaniously. In all honesty he didn’t think the boy standing before him would be man enough to accept his challenge, especially against the apparent word renowned boxer he was in the ring with. His interest was sparked by his bravery, even though he looked rustier at fighting than nails left in saltwater for a year. Experience came with time, but right now all Caern wanted to do was burn it. That and see just how his new opponent would go about trying to win this fight.

On the other hand, he needed to focus his efforts on the boxer. Her first punch had weakened his aura a rather decent amount, and that was without a weapon or her semblence. Seemed things were about to get a little chaotic.

"Die in your first lesson? Plllease. I don't kill. I just maim." She laughed, ignoring the bigger fellow to focus the taller man in front of her. What was his name? Vronica? Something. She didn't care. He was just challenging her to a fight, and she didn't take that very nicely. Especially when she was the one who got the first in. The first hit that is. She didn't care about his damn shield. She'd punch through the shield! Punch through everything! After all, she had to keep getting stronger, to keep winning. She knew no one better than her at boxing, and if there was, she wanted to meet this person.

She shuffled her feet, and kept shuffling, moving towards Vronica(Cae) and she threw three punches. One right hook, one right jab, and then a shift of body into a left uppercut. (all one attack) She wasn't getting bored, but she didn't want to beat the life out of the bigger fella. After all, she knocked bigger and stronger men than these two off their ass and into the wonderful state of knocked the f*ck out.

Hyght felt his throat constrict as the two continued their deadly dance. Fists flew and tongues wagged as if the strain of combat were nothing more than a relaxing jog. In contrast the pudgy baker was as mobile and out of shape as a square wheel. Hyght watched as the flame haired woman threw a quick series of punches at the suited man, his feet still stuck to the floor. He willed them to move but it seemed as though his commands were being blocked from getting to their destination. A subjective lifetime later and Hyght finally was able to get the message through and took his first step. Backward.

Hyght's left foot lifted and stepped back putting himself even further off balance. He wasn't aware of his blunder but the well experienced fighters would notice such an opening. The opening didn't last long as someone shouted something from the ring side and Hyght corrected it in a slightly faster speed. His dark eyes peered through his half moon glasses and he saw what he thought was an opening as the final attack of the boxer went in. With a shrill battle cry he stepped in and swung his sword in a wide arc at the suited man. The attack ended up being much too telegraphed of a move to do any real good, and it left his sword side open to attack from the boxer.

(Hyght's Health and Aura: 150/150)

While his opponent readied her attack, Caernarvon removed his hands from his coat, interlacing his rugged fingers and pressing forwards until they cracked. Simultaneously, he bent a knee until he felt a burn. He wanted to take a moment to limber up before they continued so as to be more prepared.

Satisfied with his warm up he returned his hands to his pockets and focused everything on the boxer girl, deciding to completely disregard the rather brave kid for now. ‘Time for some smooth moves.’ He thought as the first hook came his way. Caern hopped back preemptively, the fist managing to scrape his coat a little. Next came a jab. It was quick but predictable. Caernarvon wrenched his head out of the way, clearing the incoming fist completely this time.

What he didn’t anticipate entirely was the uppercut which came next- a move his oppenent used torque to get the most out of. It came in so fast that the detective was forced to bat it aside with his his sturdy left arm. It hurt, but he managed to evade taking a powerful hit. That seemed to be the end of his opponent’s second attack run, and while Caern had been able to deal with this opponent effectively- he had left his flank completely exposed in the meantime. It didn’t matter how poor his other enemies’ strike was, it came in at the same time as the uppercut.

The detective’s eyes widened and adreneline surged through him as the blade closed in. With one fluid motion he threw his shoulder into the attack, focusing all efforts into diverting enough aura to that part of his body to block the strike.

A yellow flash would explode from the point of contact as the sword hit, its edge grinding against a transparent, hexagonal-patterned field of pure and concentrated golden aura. If there was one thing Caern could say he was good at it was controlling his life energy… He wasn’t good at too much else.

The detective shifted his weight, aiming to push back his opponent’s weapon using the sheer strength of his aura rather than simply leaping aside. He wanted to test the mettle of this kid, even if it cost him his coin.
“Twenty seconds, you two.” He said in a grim, grating, tone.
[Aura: 110/170]