[center][h2][color=rosybrown]Dame Elis Isolde[/color][/h2][/center]
Drills were hard. She hated them. The same motions repeated over and over until they reached the peaks of oblivion – the same rough, tiring movents dared her and her compatriots to push themselves to the brink. It required that they not peer over the edge, but rather dance on the air. All this to master the tiniest degree of difference in the placement of their feet, the angle of their blades, or the duration of breath until the raids that night. It was grueling but required lest they plummet into the proverbial canyon below and lose their lives. Dame Isolde hated drills. That much had never changed since she arrived in Camelot.

[color=red]"Come on then, is this all you have to offer Camelot?! Your families, homes, friends and people are here in this city, and you cant even scratch me!? What will you do when the black banners and their men tear down that gatehouse?! Put your heart into it! See me as one of their twisted soldiers- As if I had just slain your wife or friend, Come on!"[/color]

[color=green]"You are too soft on these men Gawain. If they cannot hold their ground on this training field how can any of them all themselves knights and soldiers of Camelot."[/color] The Silverwind took a step back as the sound of shaft against metal rang out across the field. She shifted on her feet, turning her hazel eyes toward skyward. [color=green]"Prove your worthiness as defenders of Camelot. Face me in combat and show me that you are worthy to call yourselves knights of Britannia."[/color] She cared not for men of his ilk – measuring each other's genitalia in order to prove they could make this conditioning better than the other. Her perseverance proved itself in her training with Gawain day in and out with little sleep – his challenge suited her well, this man's seemed, to her, excessive. Thankfully, another knight stepped forward to accept the man's challenge.

[color=rosybrown][i]All for the best,[/i][/color] she thought bitterly, allowing herself to stretch and appreciate the feel of the air for a little. She had little desire to play into this man's game. She was here for one reason: to return Camelot to its former glory so she could, once again, return to her travels. Training as it was would see that – tiring herself out against a man who thought himself better would do nothing. She took a deep breath. The rest, however slight, would surely help.