[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/zQXUPoA.png[/img]
[sub][@VitaVitaAR][/sub][/center]
It didn’t take too long for the two knights to reach the training grounds and arm themselves. Though real steel may have lent a greater sense of realism, it would misfortunate if either of them ended up crippling the other during a particularly intense session. Training weapons, sheathed in charcoal powder, were brought up instead, alongside gambesons and helmets to allow a modicum of protection against blunt strikes without entirely negating the pain that came from a mistake, an inadequacy. A surprise, perhaps, that the usual suspects were not present, but Fionn had his cedar mill, Gerard had a habit of ending up in the strangest places, and Renar was the type to hide what he knew.

Convenient too for her, in some ways.

Tying her hair back to accommodate the open-faced helmet she chose for the occasion, Serenity glanced over towards the assortment of practice weapons present. Memories flickered dream-like, of ancient stances from storied heroes, but if this was to be productive, there was only one choice. A kite shield, long enough to reach the beneath her knees. A one-handed sword, made of a hefty, solid oak. She took a few practice swings with it, acclimating to the weight, before settling her gaze upon Fanilly.

[b]“Did you have a dream, Captain?”[/b]