The Chivalrous Way of Combat (Stefan).

[Tobias]

♅ 64th Ash, Year 121, A.O.S ♅
Company: Tobias and Stefan| Thoughts: And here we are, alone...| Mood: Overly Confident

---

It was normal to know some things about fighting; Tobias grew up in hardship until he was taken in by his father; yet his father didn't know how to address him with the proper codes of gentlemanly virtue; however, he try to educate him to a higher standard as possible. Although his punkish attitude appeared to be a problem within Zaichaeri society, he was doing well in life. An intelligent man with an edge of sarcasm, sardonism and charismatic wit. He was always a man who had a opinion, which would often become a culture shock to most people.

He moved around as he examined his opponent; noticing the way his fighting pose was before turning. He knew not to make the first move as he gave Stefan a taunting smirk; Tobias was the type to taunt his enemy into thinking he had the upper hand. To demoralise an enemy is to weaken their mental resolve. He wasn't phased by his experience, nor his competency at fighting "I'm just being a gentleman" He teased as he saw a gap between his legs as he wondered if he was going to go for him. He listened further until he was alarmed by the single punch he made. He slid past the other man's legs, using his nimble, lithe body to pass through successfully as he delivered a kick to his shin.

He proceeded to headlock Stefan afterwards, however his physical strength was weaker than the other man's. The man had great dexterity, but lacked strength as he struggled to wrestle him down. He wondered if the other male wanted to test his fighting instinct as he continued to try and get the larger, more bulkier male on the floor. However, it was no use. He was way too strong as it appeared he was unfazed by it. He sighed out as he let go of the man and shook his head "Ok you win, clearly I'm a weakling." He said, internally bashing himself as he sighed out in frustration.

Tobias always liked to be the best at everything; he took pride when he educated by Richard, but now he felt inferior. He hated it. The sense of freedom his father gave him, spoilt him with through all these years has made him develop an inferiority complex. He hated feeling weak, puny and low in anything that he pursued. He frowned for a moment as he let out a sigh of frustration.

"What? Are you gonna tell me, I'm not good enough?" He said, clearly annoyed by his first try. He has had teachers in the past tell him, including the coven that he had been in for five years. He still regrets it to this day.

---

"Tobias Speech"
"Richard Speech"

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan had grown up with nearly every privilege afforded by nobility and wealth, except social acceptance. This meant that he has spent his youth having to prove his worth with the strength of his arms to other young noblemen who had decided that since Stefan's father had been born into poverty someone should beat his son back onto the streets. He had developed an affinity for how to defend himself, as often his younger brother, from those who meant them harm, or at least hurt. In the academy, his ability had been noticed by his tutors and he had received significant professional training. Once he'd left the academy for the ZADC he had, yet again, been forced to prove himself. Among the officers as having a right to stand among them as a nobleman, and among the rank-and-file airmen precisely because he was a member of the 'soft' nobility.

When, at last, his non-combat abilities had earned him release to the Windworks to serve the State with his mind, rather than his fist or rifle, he had found himself drawn back to the workout rooms of his club again and again. Even when there was no danger, it still calmed his nerves, relieved the stresses and pressures of high society, along with the fears he harbored for Brenner's safety as he endured similar treatment in school and service. So it was that the stances, the movements, fell easily on his shoulders, like a familiar and beloved garment that only grows more comfortable the more often it is worn.

Stefan and Tobias had started out in life very differently, for all they had ended up in a very similar space.

As they circled Stefan realized the younger man thought they were sparring. It had been his intention to continue to assess the situation and then take Tobias over to the sandbags to ensure he could throw a punch that would do maximum damage without damaging himself at all. It was still his intention, but it wouldn't do any harm to let the man take a few more jabs at him. Everyone needed a reminder to keep on their toes, after all. The challenge of teaching while also dodging sit well in his chest, felt right, somehow. Efficiently learning while teaching.

It took him even longer to realize Tobias was trying to taunt him. A wry expression crossed his face briefly as he thought that, perhaps, sometimes, his inability to properly read social ques had advantages. He took a wide stance, opening his mouth to give the next set of instructions when the boy managed to surprise him. He slid down and managed to propel himself between Stefan's legs and behind him. When the teacher felt arms close around his throat, for a split second he was back in the schoolyard and about to aim a hard elbow into the tender organs under the ribs pressing into his back.

But he wasn't a schoolboy, he was an adult now, and Tobias was barely past being a schoolboy and would certainly be harmed if Stefan attacked him for true. So he took a slow breath, as much as he could with a forearm around his throat, and brought his hands up to grip the two wrists, to focal points that allowed the attack to be useful, and pried them apart by strength alone. He did it slowly, and carefully. Tobias might as well learn now that he could neither provoke Stefan, nor outpower him.

He did not release the wrists from his steely grip until Tobias' wrists were crossed in front of him, one over the other, and Stefan could face him. It was a foolish thing, to attack your teacher when not instructed to do so, still, the move might have worked on a footpad or otherwise untrained opponent.

"It is good to know that you are able to improvise. I will add that to the list of your skills in my head." He gave a little nod of, if not respect, benevolence, before gently releasing the wrists and stepping back. He shook his head, once, when Tobias berated himself, then turned the idea on Stefan.

"Your body isn't trained, that doesn't make you weak. When we see where we are lacking it gives us the opportunity to take control of the area and alter it as needed."

The vehemence was unexpected, though, Stef tilted his head a bit to one side the way he always did when trying to puzzle something out. Tobias was small, and his adoption was well known, perhaps he had suffered as Stefan had, only without the physical size and strength to defend himself. The image of his younger Brenner in some of the situations Stefan had saved him from, only without Stefan there to do it, flashed behind his eyes and he suddenly felt very protective of the young man before him. This expressed itself in a frown that extended to his brows.

"I would be a poor teacher if I condemned you for not knowing what I have not taught you yet. Come with me." With that he stepped away, out of the ring and toward the many sizes and shapes of punching bags suspended from the ceiling or attached to heavy hanging structures. It was the middle of a work day, so they were, luckily, mostly alone, with no need to wait in line for popular equipment.

"Here." He stopped before a solid, human sized sand bag. "Let me see you throw a punch, it doesn't have to be very hard, only do it as you naturally would."

[Tobias]

♅ 64th Ash, Year 121, A.O.S ♅
Company: Tobias and Stefan| Thoughts: He's rough around the edges| Mood: Slight Discomfort

---

Tobias had some combat knowledge from when his father use to teach him; from a young age he engaged in fencing. It was his first introduction into combat, except it was much more frightening and abrupt compared to Stefan's slow approach made him learn better. Still, he was always hard on himself; he strove for perfection in everything he did as he wanted to be exuded competence. To begin with he always had a sense of pride; even though he showed disregard to most of the rules. It had always been a factor in philosophy; as Richard had pointed out in his academic lectures, true freedom was not possible. Society had interlocked freedom with a acquired set of rules and taboos that have been created by political leaders to add order and structure to our kin. Tobias knew this very well, almost too well that he had most of the time questioned people's competence, integrity and their own self respect and dignity. He didn't find it easy living in a society full of repression since he was open with his emotions.

Unlike Stefan, Tobias was only as half fortunate as him. He was orphaned from a young age with no clue who his actual parents were; despite being adopted by a well known academic and seeker of the Order of Reconciliation, he still felt lost in the world. He was still trying to prove himself with the Order of Reconciliation, the same way as Stefan and his family proved themselves in Zaichaeri society. However, even with his father around he still felt alone; with no further support to help him. Richard saw this and eventually, he needed to give him the resources for Tobias to have a good life. It was the same thing he did for his son, Alabaster. Although it was rebellion in society that killed his family, the same rebellion that Tobias had inflicted; only he saw a much more darker side to coven life. To evaluate, it was the dark secret which made him run straight back into his father's arms, he was lucky he had the option to. Most parents would have disowned their child for such a secret as it would bring ruin upon them; as well as securing them a place of execution as an accessory to their crimes.

At least, the men both had something in common with each other. They both started out as nothing and eventually grew into men of power. However, Tobias had a lot of growing to do before he gets to a powerful stage in his career. Most of the time spent was picking up an odd severed finger, as well as cleaning up the archive room every now and then. It felt like he went from an Academic's son to the Reconciliator's janitor in the amount of weeks he had been there. He had just started and it was merely hell for him.

The basic instinct of Tobias was that he thought Stefan would want to know his current combat knowledge. To a degree, sparring was the only way to determine such talent within a combatant. He needed to show him what he could do before Stefan took him over to the sandbags for further training. The stunt he pulled previously still had him somewhat embarrassed. He had barely any strength, only the feasible dexterity that he had used to get him away from certain situations. He noticed the grip on his wrists were somewhat firm as he nervously chuckled; before looking down like a scolded child "I thought you wanted to assess the situation, before we got down the actual teaching, I actually learn better if you can see what I can do already and what I need to learn" He said as he winced slightly, letting out a soft inaudible groan of discomfort, but he did not shake free.

When Stefan let go, he rubbed his wrists; whilst there was no sign of bruising, his bones ached from the steely grip of the other man. He had a firm hand, just what he needed in a teacher. He followed him out the ring to the sandbags, he looked at the sandbag for a moment and listened to Stefan's instructions, yet he felt like he had eyes on him. It wasn't unusual for Tobias to feel insecure about his strength, but his inferiority complex got the better of him as he looked over his shoulder, realising that no one was using the ring. He could confidently train with the other man as he threw a punch at the bag as natural as he could take it before he winced.

"Aghh..." He said as he shook his hand again, knowing that he needed to get use to the fists. However, the pain was more within his wrists; probably from not being used to harsh, intensive grips. He wasn't much of a fighter from the glance of his figure. It appeared that Stefan needed to give him a opportunity to spar and train with him more often; to exercise his muscles and to gain stamina through them. Whilst teaching fencing from Richard was great, he needed him to do more vigorous training.

This is just the beginning for Tobias.

---

"Tobias Speech"
"Richard Speech"

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan did exude confidence, though it was not his intention. Perhaps that was why it worked, why he had a reputation as an intimidating social figure. His silence and air of confidence earned him the respect of his elders and the curiosity, and often disdain, of his peers. Very few knew that the manner in which he behaved was dictated not by his own disdain, but by a sense of social anxiety that he had been forced to learn to cope with by his parents. The elder generation of Dornkirks were never going to accept that their heir was unable to move in social settings and perform his duties, so he had found a way to adhere to their wishes that triggered him the least.

In an irony that he would probably never recognize, Stefan felt safer for all the societal rules that made Tobias feel repressed. Without the rules to use as a shield he would have never made it through the myriad of social mires presented to him on a nearly daily basis since he'd come of age. When someone made a comment he didn't understand, or one he did and knew to be cleverly rude, he could remain quiet, or make a socially acceptable answer that lessened their power by showing him to be aloof to their mechaniations. When he was sought after by partners for either conversation or romance that he did not want he had a structure with which he could excuse himself while still remaining well within the bounds of what was politely acceptable. He had taken to his etiquette lessons not like a fish into water, but like a drowning man pulling for the shore.

How very opposite the two were, in coloring, stature, upbringing and social reasoning, almost as unlike each other as two men of the similar origins could be. Yet here they were, pushed together by the care given each by a fatherly figure who had taught them much, and now wanted one to learn from the other.

The words made sense to Stefan, and he nodded, acknowledging their wisdom.

"I would like to asses what you can do, but having you repeatedly attack him isn't going to show me where your strengths lie, only where mine do." Repeatedly attacking the slimmer man himself would be equally pointless, more like bullying than any real sort of lesson. The petulent way that the younger man seemed to be reacting to him reminded Stefan of something, but it took him long moments of processing in the background before he figured out what it was. Tobias behaved like a school boy, the adolescent sort of reactions: rolling his eyes, questioning authority before thinking, emphasizing every little pain or perceived slight. It made him frown, to himself only this time, as they made their way to the training bag area.

Perhaps Stefan should write a letter to Richard, inquiring after Tobias' upbringing. He knew Mr. Zorrathy too well to imagine he had raised the boy entirely himself and had him turn out this way. Then again, after what had become of Richard's natural born son it might make sense that he had gone very gently in his raising of his adopted one. Either way, Stefan would write a letter, a polite one, asking some questions. If his judgment of his new student was unfair he wanted to know it, and current it, as soon as possible. A face to face conversation about it would be too difficult, too uncomfortable, for Stefan to face, so a letter would have to suffice.

"You likely aren't ever going to put on bulk muscle, but don't let anyone tell you that means you can't be an excellent boxer." He began to instruct again as he watched Tobias size up toward the punching bag. Reaching around as he circles him he wrapped his strong hands around his hips, swiveling them a bit to correct his stance before he threw the first punch. Wincing when he saw how it landed.

"Here." He said, holding out one hand until Tobias placed his own inside it. "Line up your wrist like this," He adjusted the hand until the bones in the wrist made a straight like from the elbow to the knuckles, "This way you can put your strength into a hit without fearing for your wrist or your fingers. Practise moving your arm from the elbow down as a single unit with no flexibility." He moved the arm a few times as he spoke to show what he meant and then released his hold to let Tobias repeat the motions on his own.

"Get used to the feel of that, practice it in random moments as you go about your day, it's an easy enough thing to do and won't be noticed." Stefan himself still practised getting in the right stance and holding his arms correctly at any given moment during work or leisure, it helped his mind snap into it by instinct when he had need.

"We should meet once a week to assess your progress. Try and train your punches on a bag at least every few days, get the bones and muscles used to absorbing the shock. The last thing you want is to win a fight but injure yourself along the way."

[Tobias]

♅ 64th Ash, Year 121, A.O.S ♅
Company: Tobias and Stefan| Thoughts: He's rough around the edges| Mood: Slight Discomfort

---

The encouragement from the other man was surprising. Most of the reconciliators at work showed an element of pessimism towards their jobs. He on the other hand didn't let a single ounce of pain bother him. The twinges of pain only left everlasting scars amongst his mind, his body and his soul. Without his scars, he would not be the person he was today. The charismatic, yet sarcastic man with an edge of good will strove upon the other man. However, he didn't wanna end up in anymore bad situations, for instance when Vigilant Jophis had shown up on a failed investigation all because of his exposure to magic in the general public. He had forgotten that Aether has had visible signs.

Still, lessons are very well learnt through making mistakes; however one would question the integrity of Tobias within the Order of Reconciliation after that failed attempt. He did not let him phase him and carried on moving through various aspirations he had.

Stefan readjusted and micromanaged his posture as he listened intently to the other man. He frowned at the moment he told him that he would never put on bulk muscle. It was a shame, but he knew that and accepted his body the way he was. However, his body confidence was still overshadowed by the fact that he was still thin. However, the flare of encouragement came in as he was told to not let it stop him. He never has let anything stop him "May I remind you, I have never been shy a single day in my life..." He said, looking at him with his eyes; glaring at him with a hint of rebellion as he turned his attention to the punching bag.

He practiced the arm movement that he was teaching him, keeping his elbow at a steady pace before jabbing the air with his fist. It was practice that would allow him to steady himself in combat as well as society as a whole. It was practice that would enable him to settle down in life as Tobias had not been the greatest conversationalist, nor has he ever understood the rules and regulations within societies foothold.

Perhaps a firm hand was needed.

He nodded over at Stefan as he briefly made eye contact with him as he wanted to assess his progress every week. Something that would make Tobias groan in slight mental agony and boredom. He did not show such displeasure though; it appeared that he enjoyed the company of his new trainer. There was an air of mystery about him; something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Underneath the bouts of social anxiety, lied a dark horse waiting to be caught.

"I'll look forward to it..."

This was just the beginning of his training.

---

"Tobias Speech"
"Richard Speech"

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan had not yet heard the rumors of Tobias' public misstep. He had only just recently returned from almost two months out of the city, and even if he had been there, it was more the purview of his mother, his brother, his brother in law, and, perhaps, his wife, to keep their ears to the wire for gossip and social intrigue.

Now that he was inspecting the other man more carefully, looking at him rather than just watching to see how he moved Stefan noticed the bruising on his cheekbones. The pattern didn't look like something created by a fist. The elder Dornkirk would never have believed for a moment that Richard slapped his son around. Perhaps Tobias was as socially inappropriate with women as he was with his teacher and had earned the attack.

The reminder was a bit odd, since the two men did not know each other and it hadn't been previously mentioned in their conversation. It was the sort of easy-flowing, intimacy-implied type of social conversation that Stefan had never been a part of, by exclusion in his youth and by choice as he aged.

He began to nod in approval as the punches continued to fly, eventually moving to stand behind Tobias, their hips lined up, their punching arms lined up so the younger man could feel the movement in Stefan's own body as they performed the strike together.

"See, the hips do move, but barely, never enough to overbalance, here, and here." He touched two places on Tobias' midsection with the hand not extended out in front of them both. Once he could feel that Tobias was lining his body up correctly he stepped back, watched him do it again, alone this time.

"Yes. Just so. Well done."

They continued thus for several more minutes, the entire lesson having gone for almost an hour, until Stefan stepped away, saying,

"Alright, that's enough for now. Next week I'll show you how to bring your other hand into the fray without detracting from what you're learning with the first. I'd like to see the practice on you when we meet again. Would you prefer to continue here, in the public gym, or would you like me to get you a pass to my club?"

Once the decision was made he held out his hand, shaking firmly, before heading away to begin his own workout, he might as well stretch himself on the apparatus not available at his private club while he was there.

[Tobias]

♅ 64th Ash, Year 121, A.O.S ♅
Company: Tobias and Stefan| Thoughts: He's rough around the edges| Mood: Slight Discomfort

---

He knew he would've been shy and paranoid of the other men using the gym, especially since he had an inferiority complex about those who were bigger than him. What he didn't realise is that size didn't matter "Do you mind if I have a pass to your private club, that way... I don't have to worry about all those runts who..." He trailed off in shyness for a moment, like something had been wrong. It wasn't unusual for Tobias to feel threatened during certain situations, especially when he had been the one initiating the conversational exchanges, but he wanted to feel safe.

Maybe it was the traumatic experience he endured within the coven he joined, where Tobias was subject to various hedonistic activities that covens would engage with for their own sadistic pleasure. He knew deep inside that he was a broken man. A interesting man if he were to put it, but broken. The way he used the word runt, as if he was previously harmed by one in the past. It was clear that something was off, something that needed to be addressed.

Fin.

---

"Tobias Speech"
"Richard Speech"

[Torin Kilvin]

R E V I E W

Lore:

Stefan:
Unarmed Combat:
Teaching a Novice
Assessing Level of Skill
Full Comprehension of Each Move
Projecting Your Hands
Building Stamina
Warming Up
Stretching
Making a Fist Properly
Concentrating
Building Fast-Twitch Muscle
Correct Stance
Dodging
Keep Moving

Tobias:
Unarmed Combat:
Protecting the fists
Enduring blows
Full Knuckle striking
Building Endurance to the blunt force
Headlock

Acrobatics:
Slide dodging
Evasion

Bodybuilding:
Flexibility in the body
Splits

Ettiquette:
Listening to your teacher
Following the rules
Simple greetings

Politics:
Getting to know ones' stature

Points: 8 each, not for magic

Injuries/Ailments: Wounded pride and some confusion

Loot: None

Notes: