towerofanimus | One dwarf a wandering

Entry tags:

One dwarf a wandering

Characters: Thorin Oakenshield and you!
Setting: Lots of places
Format: Both
Summary: Thorin is doing a bit more exploring within the Tower
Warnings: None of yet

Floor Thirty Two

[Thorin is busying himself with setting some traps down to catch some deer. Possibly some other game also, such as rabbit or any bird too. He had been in the mood for hunting ever since his last trip to the Cafeteria. He really hated what they served there, as it was not fit for any dwarf. Especially not a dwarf king. He finished laying down the last trap down, as he looked up at the sun. It was nearly mid-day and he was wondering if he would catch anything before supper time. A nearby tree offered some shade from the sun, as he sat down beneath it's high branches and waited.]

Floor Seventy Seven

[The heat from the sauna soon hit Thorin, as he walked through the doors. Dwarves rarely bathed and this came more of a surprise to the dwarf king. He saw others sitting in the warm booths and they looked rather relaxed. Stripping off to his under cloth, he wondered if a go in the sauna was such a good idea.]

Floor Thirty Nine

[Thorin walked into the gymnasium and wondered what on earth people would do inside of a place like it. He gazed at the many machines and weights on the floor. It was a good sized room and felt like having a go at lifting some of the weights himself, as he was a strong warrior. He picked up one of the weights on the floor and lifted it easily into the air. People did this to build themselves up? He preferred to fight or sword fight with another to build himself up.]

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[Someone else had found the gymnasium. While it wasn't as pristine and high-tech as the one back home, and she herself would rather fight someone than do this, it would do for now.

So there's a small girl sitting on one of the benches, lifting a weight that is comparable in size to whatever Thorin is lifting.]

[Thorin lifted the weight he was holding one more time, before setting it back to the ground. He had soon become bored of the repetitive action, which the weight had caused. Aye, a sword was much more engaging to build muscles with. Or an axe. He turned around and spotted a young girl on one of the benches. She too was lifting one of the weight contraptions. Curiosity made him walk over and see what she was doing.]

Is this what our captors use for letting us build ourselves up? What is the purpose of such a contraption? I would think a sword or axe would build your arm muscles up better than one of these things. [He looked at the smaller weights, which she was using.]

[While said repetitive action was indeed boring, it gave her time to think at least. Her train of thought is broken however when someone walked over and begun speaking to her, something that didn't happen very often.]

Uh...[Veronica needs a moment as she takes in the person's statement. The smaller weight is set down and a larger one is picked up.] These are usually used by people who don't use weapons so they can get stronger. But I know what you mean, sword fighting is much more enjoyable.

Aye, it is. I do understand that people within the Tower do not all possess weapons that they can use. Alas, I would feel naked and useless without my axe and sword. [No truer words spoken by a dwarf.]

Do you come here often to build yourself up?

[She shakes her head.]

Not really. I come here sometimes, mostly to think. I usually hunt monsters in the tower to build myself up.

The monsters within the tower are dangerous and savage. Surely, sword fighting would be a better option, than to be killed whilst training? [Thorin wasn't against killing monsters, as he enjoyed doing so himself. Yet, outright combat with the beasts seemed rather foolish.]

I honour your brave heart, yet the beasts are foul and would stop at nothing to end all of our lives.

I sword fight sometimes, but not that much. Don't meet that many proper sword wielders.

And fighting monsters in the tower is actually a very good way to train and keep yourself fit.

[From under her cloak, Veroncia produces a broadsword that's almost a long as herself.]

That is, if you're prepared for it of course.

Aye, I do agree with you there. Keeping fit and alert is a useful skill to have within this tower of death. [Thorin's eyes grace the sword that she is holding and he nods.]

That is a powerful weapon you wield. Can you use it well?

[She stands up and twirls it expertly. The blade looks like it weighs nothing in her small hands.]

I've had a lot of time to learn.

[If a fight or sword practice is something that would better please Thorin, he needn't look any farther than across the gym floor to one of the larger open areas. It is there that Diarmuid is practicing himself. He is moving so quickly it might take a while for Thorin to be able to follow his movements, but considering Thorin is a warrior trained it shouldn't take him long to be able to start picking things apart.

It seems that Diarmuid is practicing both with sword and spear at the moment. He will run through a few skills with his spear before unsummoning it and pulling out the swords his is carrying and practicing with them for a while. It is obvious that the swords were made by an amateur hand to mimic a pair of swords that originally were as great a work of art as his spear is. Still, as imperfect as they may be, he loves them for they were a gift from a very dear friend.

And so he moves across the open area switching back and forth between weapons. Diarmuid certainly wouldn't mind it if someone offered to spar with him. After all, a real opponent is better any day than an imaginary one.]

[Thorin immediately dropped the weight to the floor, as he spotted his friend, Diarmuid. He was using both sword and spear to practice with alone. Aye, now that was more like it! Thorin walked over to greet him, a smile over his face.]

You wield both weapons well, Diarmuid. Do you come here often to practice with your weapons? [Thorin's eyes were fixed on both weapons he was wielding.]

[Diarmuid pauses in his practice when he sees Thorin, approaching the dwarf with a smile. He sheaths the sword in his hand and rests his spear casually across his shoulders before he speaks.]

Your compliments honor me, my friend.

[He bows his head in thanks.]

I do come here to practice whenever I have the time. This place has a way of keeping one very busy. And what of you? Are you here to practice as well?

[Diarmuid pauses as he notices where Thorin's gaze is. He swings his spear off his shoulders and holds it out.]

Would you like to see it closer?

Aye, I would. [Thorin took time in gazing at the well made spear. Was this the one he helped repair? He looked back at his friend with a broad smile.]

Was this the spear that I helped craft back into one piece? It looks very much like it, unless I am mistaken. [Thorin's gaze went back to the spear and found himself running a hand along it's length. The shaft cool against his touch.]

[Diarmuid shakes his head.]

No, that was my friend Kain's spear. This one is my own. It's name is Gae Dearg. The name is often translated to "The Crimson Rose of Exorcism." While her sister was irreparably broken in battle, she has never been so broken. Indeed, she is part of my soul so it is very difficult to permanently damage her.

[Indeed the only reason that his other spear had been so irreparably broken was that Diarmuid had done the breaking himself.]

Ah, of course. Forgive me, I just assumed the spear was of similar make to the one I had worked upon. It is a fine weapon, Diarmuid. You look after it well, as all warriors should. Gae Dearg? What language is that?

Thank you, but there is no reason to ask for forgiveness. Please don't worry.

[Diarmuid shakes his head and then motions to the spear.]

The name is Ancient Gaelic which is the tongue of my people. The language that is spoken in my homeland of Ireland now is much different from what it used to be when I first lived, but thousands of years have also passed. It is only to be expected.

Ancient Gaelic. [Thorin nodded, as he listened to Diarmuid.] I would much like to spar with you, holding that mighty spear.

Probably not a name familiar to you if I remember what I have been told of your world correctly. It is one very different from my own. But no matter, if you would like a spar, I will be quite glad to give it to you.

[Diarmuid holds out is hand unsummoning his spear so that is disappears from Thorin's hand and then resummoning it so it reappears in his.]

Shall we make our way to the open area over there? It will give us both plenty of space to move.

[Since the Tower's lounges have been proven to get him interrupted whenever Sephiroth had sought them out in order to rest his mind he's recently worked Sauna trips into his purposefully random activities around the Tower. Especially now, given his responsibilities - the focus required for studying, fighting and also the immense amount of self-control he was employing in just being civil with many others; Sephiroth needs to take downtime at least to reflect and theories come quicker to a relaxed mind as well.

The entirety of Sephiroth's six-foot-two frame is draped horizontally across the wooden ledge in the male-designated room, white towel around his waist and a great tail of braided silver hair rests down across one shoulder and then down towards the floor - it's end just brushing the floor beneath. He's been soaking up the heat for a while, as the thin sheen of sweat implies.

It appears that he might have been sleeping until the presence of another alerts him and, while not moving his head, Sephiroth opens and locks his unblinking eyes on Thorin for the time being. Observing, reading the dwarf intensely for his intent here.]

[Thorin could not help but stare at the very tall man lying upon the wooden ledge. His hair was nearly as long as his body and by comparison, this man was much taller than Thorin. Even for a Man, he was tall. The dwarf knew he was being watched but did not think anything of it. Was he in the right place? He had stumbled into here more than anything else.]

Can you tell me what this place is? Why is it so hot in here?

[An eyebrow twitches. Sephiroth finds it very strange that anyone would wander in if they weren't already aware of the function of the dry-heat room.]

It's a sauna. The dry-heat and humidity is very much the point.

A sauna? The word is unfamiliar to me, as we dwarves have nothing like this on our home world. Do many come here to bathe, do you know?

I have seen a few. I imagine most do not understand the point of it.

[Of all the floors, this was a fairly peaceful one, and Darres enjoyed it. It reminded him of home in a way. As much as it could considering his home was supposedly destroyed. The Knight General was rather curious of the animals on this floor and if he could connect with them. The tall man could be found among some bushes near a rabbit with his arm out as if beckoning the creature to come to him. His demeanor was exceptionally calm and peaceful for a hellish setting such is the tower.

Based on the surrounding noises. Someone else was out here, and likely was causing the rabbit to remain tense.]

[Thorin's eyes snapped open, as he heard the snap of twigs and the rustle of movement. His body was tuned to the outdoors and nothing escaped his keen ears and sharp eyes. He saw the young man almost immediately. Getting up, he unsheathed his hunting knife to greet the man. Thorin never knew what dangers the tower had, so he always kept his guard up when meeting strangers.]

Greetings. I did not know anyone else would venture here today. Are you hunting?

[When the knight was approached the rabbit had fled to a deeper part of the vegetation they were settled in. Well so much for that.]

I'm not hunting. My apologies for stirring your ground.

[The knight stood from his kneeled position. Bringing him to his full height of a few inches above six feet, though somewhat lanky for his height.]

You did not stir my ground, as I was just laying some traps down to catch myself something worth eating. The Cafeteria has nothing I would ever want to eat there.

It's food is questionable, and not very tasteful.

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One dwarf a wandering

Floor 39

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Floor Thirty Nine

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Floor 77

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32

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