[center][h1]Xavior learns how to decapitate something with a hard carapace (eventually)[/h1][/center]

Xavier had returned home from his expedition to Daminan’s lavaside crystal refinery, taken one look at the state of his “renovated” throne room and decided he did not want to deal with that right now.

No instead, after quickly popping by the center of the temple and sharing his node with Dzallitsunya as part of a trade organized via the embassy system, he left home once again, this time going on a short trim a half turn around the lake at the center of the 12th realm. On its western edge sat the newly constructed local headquarters of the Paladins, suitably separated from the main chunk of the city by the mighty river flowing down from the lake and into the sea.

His reason for visiting was twofold. First, it would be good to see in person this asset/potential threat sat on his doorstep and touch base with its leader in preparation for the further wars ahead. 

Second, well, there was something he’d put off for too long that he needed to learn. The god knew that, having claimed but a single node, he was likely the least versed in combat god that there was, and he had not even killed the beast that had guarded his realm. This had been fine, right up until Monica returned from a stroll through the city, bearing a wound most fowl and casually reported a murder. Her divine kin had been horrified, Benea fell quiet and contemplative, while Xavior was split between grave concern for his sister and shame at what had occurred right under his nose. One god wounded and another slain right here in his city, and he had been none the wiser.

The corpses of a bird had been found by city enforcers following rumors of a particularly blasphemous black market sale, and now sat in a small coffin locked securely away, nobody having any real idea what to do with it, other than having it act as a grim reminder that the killer was out there, and that he had struck without them ever knowing he was here.

If Xavior could not rely on his people to keep him safe, or at least that was how it felt, then it would be foolish not to learn how to defend himself. 

Thus, his real reason for taking a trip to visit the paladins: hoping to take advantage of their formalized training methods that his own people’s armed forces had mostly copied off of them anyway. Up until recently, heading across the lake would have involved traveling by ship, the rivers feeding in and out of it having never been bridged due to the fact that that would restrict the shipping swarming the 12th realm’s waterways.

Not so anymore, because a group of innovative demons had taken a leaf out of Annie’s first flight and used their wings to capture some of the flying Tonicalla that soared through the skies of their homeland. Not for eating however (or not primarily for that anyway, though the flying fish did pair very well with a lemon sauce Xavior had found), but for taming to be used as mounts. First only by people like them but, after they’d invented parachutes for safety, (a process made much easier thanks to the testers having the ability to safely abort a failed chuting) it had started to spread out to wingless people. 

[img=https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/035/800/993/large/dustin-panzino-8f175300-d729-4612-82ca-a2e222d2084d.jpg?1615930129][/img]

It was still expensive and a bit risky to do, but neither expense nor fear of falling where of any obstacle to the god, and as such his fishy steed granted him a lovely view of the paladin’s headquarters as he soared through the skies with his first priestess/royal bodyguard Annie (who had been rather instrumental in coming up with this idea in the first place) at his side.

Below the structure almost stood out from any other building or complex in 12th node region. The paladins were very specific on how it was to be built, making it a copy of Queendom architecture and very specific to regulations on what a paladin recruitment and garrison center should look like, with its own flair of course. Overall it was a large artificial hill with a shallow moat and a thick stone outerwall with flanged heels to deflect stones. The gatehouse was squat but almost always open, a drawbridge wide open to provide access from the road and into the walled garrison. 

Inside the large square was a small town of buildings, from bakeries to smiths to armories. The only thing that kept it from being a well defended village was the sea of caped paladins, a bastion in the center, large dirt training grounds and the red roofed garrisons that hugged the interior walls.

The god found the self-sufficient nature of the compound simultaneously irritating on a political level due to it limiting the integration of the paladins into the local population (which limited his and the council’s economic influence over them) and admirable on a personal one. He was quite sure that he would do something much the same if he was in their place after all, so could he really disparage it? Indeed his own temple home was almost the same in how it sat amidst the urban sprawl that was Eunomia. 

Regardless, the paladins had shown themselves to be nothing but amicable and helpful, so the level of concern this state of affairs caused these days was minimal. 

The god swooped down to land before the gatehouse, respecting the formality of entering in an official manner even if he could have bypassed it, before he and his looming guardian made their way inside. The flying fish was handed over to a bemused stablemaster, and then the two of them set about seeking out the local leader of the paladins.

But it didn’t take more than three steps from their esteemed Tonnikala before a purple caped paladin approached Xavior and his bodyguard. Before speaking, the man fell to one knee and with both fists touching the ground, he bowed his head. “Welcome to the 12th recruitment, my lord.”

The god raised an eyebrow at this prostolatising, it was a touch more than even he, a god king, was used to, but he quickly adapted. 

“Rise, nobel paladin. I have come to meet your leader, and I should be expected” Xavior explained simply, the god not being so crass as to drop in unannounced though this had admittedly been arranged on quite short notice. “Please, lead us to him, if you may?”

“Of course, liege,” the Paladin stood up and procured a long purple ribbon from under his sword belt. He held it out to Annie. “Please tie this to your wrist.”

It wasn't exactly the towering woman’s first visit to the compound, so she simply nodded and followed procedure, tying the ribbon around her blue skinned wrist which it complemented fetchingly.

“Right then, let’s be off and get to business shall we?” Xavior said, before they set off to meet the boss around these parts.

[hr]

Steel clashed once, twice, thrice and then the fourth blow hammered Xavior in his armored gutt so hard it sent him careening through the air and into a nearby wall. The sturdy wood cracked and then the god fell forwards and hit the sand.

He lay there for several heartbeats and then with a grunt stabbed the tip of the blade into the dirt and used it to haul himself upright while holding a hand to his chest, healing his own wounds once more as he demanded “again!”

“No,” Frederick swung his massive blade over his shoulder to rest. “Not until you start listening to what I’m trying to tell you.”

“And remind me what that might be?” Xavior replied bitterly, repeated failure stinging his pride and fueling unnecessary vitriol, “because the memory seems to have been beaten out of me”
.
“Xavior” came the voice of Annie (who was observing/guarding the training) who when the god turned to her, gave him a ‘come on, really?’ look that caused him to sigh and add “please?”

Frederick twisted a frown and with a heave he slammed his blade down in front of him, sundering the ground between him and Xavior. “You keep leaping back to avoid the hit. To fight like a paladin, move to the side and don’t keep giving me more space to work with. I have the larger weapon, you want to keep the distance close, move in the circle pattern, keep your feet liquid yet solid.”

With little else, Frederick swung his sword wide at Xavior, utilizing the entirety of the space between the two to put a massive amount of weight behind the blow.

Instinct screamed at Xavior to back up again, but at this point he had given so much ground there wasn't actually any further back he could go, the cracked wall being only a few feet behind him. So, out of a lack of any other options, this time he actually tried to follow the Paladin’s advice and lept to the right, away from the incoming swing. For a brief moment, Xavior felt the joy of dodging the strike accurately, that was until a gauntleted fist plowed into his already dented chestpiece and knocked him on his ass. 

Frederick stood over the god and shook his head. “Too rigid, and you took your eyes off of me.” The paladin offered a hand to Xavior. “I hate to say it, liege, but I do not think you are ready for skirmishing. If you want to fight like a paladin, you need to start at the beginning like everyone else.”

“That... That! … is not going to be good for my image” Xavior admitted, or semi admitted, why he had tried to skip straight to the advanced stuff. 

“You were never exactly a warrior king” Annie pointed out 

“Yes, well, still” Xavior began and then sighed “we do what we must. Let us begin at the beginning then, it is, in hindsight, the only place to start.”

“Perfect!” Frederick bellowed. “As with any new recruit, our first lesson is on how to breathe!”

“Technically-” Xavior began, only to be cut off.

“You don’t need to breathe, yes, but you also don’t need to circle me when you fight and yet that didn’t work out too well for you either, did it?” Frederick planted his blade into the ground and leaned on it. “The Queen has revealed in part the martial tactics of a warrior god named Faringdal. We mimic his fighting style, and so despite being mortal, we fight with the same technique as a god — so it should stand to reason it will only benefit you to follow it to the letter.”

“That... I did not know” Xavior admitted and did have to wonder how long these people had known what he had only so recently learned about the grand regent of the last cycle now that he did. It did put both a bit of humility in him, and a bit of concern. Afterall, he was learning the style of a god killed by the one he would have to face, passed through 2 different filters.

Still, it was a more mature technique than any other in the world, so it was still likely the best place to start. He had to learn to fight before he started trying to innovate something that could stand against Garravar.  “So.. how do I breathe?” 

“Annie,” Frederick turned to the demon. “Could you go and get me my training rod? You know the one.”

The demoness nodded, and in a flap of wings was gone to get the same rod that had turned her from untamed titan to towering warrioress. She hoped it would be able to turn her god from shut-in smith to stalwart swordsman. Only time and dedication would tell. He was not lacking in the latter, but the former? That was less clear. 

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8/8 (+3 from survey)

-1 to share node 12 with Dzallitsunya

7/8 remaining
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 [hider=summary]
Xavior returns home and decides he doesn’t have the energy to deal with the redecorations so instead he and his favorite demon gal, Annie, go on a magic fish ride to the 12th recruitment to check up on the paladins. 

There they find a self-sufficient settlement complete with walls and a keep. Xavior is impressed but disappointed they didn’t integrate more — sort of forgetting how he separated them from the major settlements. Either way, he lands and is greeted by a paladin who shows the utmost respect to him (a continuation of the amicable pattern the paladins have shown the 12th region and its government).

He is led to Frederick where he gets his ass beat and a heavy lecture on not being good at fighting. Frederick then suggests he undergoes paladin training and to start at the bottom. Xavior initially protests but after learning that the paladin fighting style is modeled after Faringdal’s own fighting style (and finds out that Benea/Olipha's secret is spreading in the process), he relents. The scene ends with Annie fetching Frederick’s training rod — Xavior the newest pupil.
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