Welcome to Avaleur, a medieval fantasy roleplay site where anything is a possibility. Face bandits, or knights. Work your way up to become part of Avaleur's castle, or try your luck at being a thief. Own a shop, be a guild master, start a family. The possibilities are endless.
"Already got one of those guy, and that's why I'm here. That same reason. What's your reason old man?" He aksed, staying in the Muay Tai stance just in case.
"My reason? What is not my reason? I allow her to come and go as she pleases, a welcomed stranger." He smirked, he tried not to hold onto what motivates him. It wasn't as simple as saying peace or protecting the weak because he didn't need to hold onto all the time. It didn't need to be dealt with all the time.
"And if that is your reason, you should find another. A weak one you have found. Overused and burdened by many others. It will fail you." He flicked his tongue against the roof of his closed mouth as he thought, "Keep it until you find a better suiting one though. Better than none eh?"
Delliks chuckled, "Lad I just told you, well I sort of told you that is." He brushed his hand through his hair. "Maybe I'll tell you another day eh? Give you a reason to come back," he smirks.
"Learn to." He stated simply and then changed subjects rather quickly, "Do you want to keep fighting like this or begin the art of the sword as many refer to it as." He walked over and put his boots and sock back on. It was a little wet from the snow but that was okay. "Either is fine with me, I just wish to know which you prefer."
Aldon chuckled. "Art? Isn't it more like a tool? All you do is kill people with it, whether in offense or defense. I know enough to survive, what more could you teach me?" He asked seriously.
"The sword is a tool, much like the painter's brush or the blacksmith's hammer, but the act of using it is an art, or a skill, or a trade. Where your heart is there is where your blades purpose will lie also. You wish for revenge? Survival? If all you desire is for and of yourself then perhaps you do already know enough. Your sword will be as strong as your heart, once you reach the penical of your ability there is only one way to break the bounds and press onward, you won't find it in simply survival."
Delliks could tell, easily, this was a young swordsman. New to everything, natural talent no doubt, as he had picked up enough to create the cocky attitude he now possessed. Survival would get him no where and revenge would only push him small steps forward. Because his reason for it was weak, at least it seemed so to Delliks.
