[sup][h1][b][center][color=black] K A Z R A N[/color]
[color=00aeef]K A Z R A N[/color][/center]
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Clumps of dried hay crunched underneath weighted steps. Kaz's pace was slow as he approached the target dummies, stepping in just as a teenager with soft hands finished a small, orchestrated technique. It did little against the makeshift practice dummy, but seemed enough to attract a small polite set of claps from other distinguished applicants nearby. Kaz's stomach turned in knots as he saddled his way up towards the free dummy, his knuckles white on the hilt of his weapon. His other hand held the shield awkwardly, metal clanking against metal at it jostled against the side of the breastplate.

He had learned the absolute basics already, though it was less about form and more about practicality. Don't get stabbed. Keep your shield up. Don't overextend. Let gravity do some of the work. Follow the hammer once it gets going. Keep pressing. Of course, at the given moment, it was all a muddled broth of words simmering in Kaz's head as he felt a few errant stares. If one didn't know any better, Kaz looked almost the part of a potential Warden. Almost.

Kaz settled himself a couple paces away from the target, his right shoulder facing it directly. His body faced perpendicular, and his eyes met those of the aspirant who went before him. The teenager's eyes didn't seem to burn with jealousy or rivalry as they met Kaz's... but instead seemed to be pittying. Kaz averted his gaze, turning to view the target. He looked past, seeing one of the instructors moving his direction, eyeing the new recruits.

This was it.

With his feet firmly planted, Kaz let the hammer slide off his shoulder. His arm twisted slightly, as his feet began to move. His left foot fell back, and his body turned with the momentum of the warhammer's falling arc. It wasn't as quick as some of the other maneuvers, but the sheer momentum helped carry his body in the follow-through. His right foot followed his left, his body turning around until he was partially facing the target. His arm strained slightly from the momentum of the hammer's upward swing, and Kazran's weight is the only thing that kept him from being lifted up off the ground.

A loud, sharp crack echoed through the air as the hammer swung just an inch too far. The edge of the hammer must have torn through the cloth, or perhaps the sudden impact strained the sewn fabric of the dummy. A cloud of hay suddenly engulfed the area in which Kazran had been, leaving the teen obscured and sputtering. The wooden pole the dummy had been attached to had splintered, with shards of wood joining the debris. Kaz, in his disorientation, felt the muscles in his shoulder strain to keep a grip on the hammer. While it did not fly from his hands, he was powerless to stop it from falling with a crash into the ground. Once again, a small but noticeable crater formed underneath the warhammer's head.

As Kaz regained his senses, the silence from nearby observers became deafening. The applicant before him and his entourage watched on with a mixture of disgust and fear. Kaz hoisted the hammer onto his shoulder again, feeling a lump form in his throat. He mouthed wordless apologies to those who had been waiting dutifully behind him, moving to the fringe of the training area to watch on from a bit of a distance.

He had his chance, and it went up in a cloud of straw and splinters.