Welcome to Gaia! ::

“I’m sure that’s true,” Damissan admitted.

Though, to be fair and despite the fact that perhaps he should have considered it, he’d never given much thought, prior to now, about how much of a distinction there might be between the swordsmanship lessons he’d received as a growing boy and the reality of drawing a blade against another man, even to defend himself. He had fought with his fists in earnest, but those were the embarrassing, messy brawls of young people — usually young nobles or upper crust miscreants that had traversed the circles he did — brought about by high tempers and an abundance of intoxicating substances.

He had never fought with a weapon against someone who wanted to hurt him. That thought, he tucked away for the moment, for future examination at a later date. Perhaps, if he was especially lucky, it wouldn’t matter, and for now, the precautionary voice that urged ‘unlikely’ was easy enough to ignore.

“Perhaps not in the traditional ways,” Damis said. The topic of soldiers being hard pressed for work was, at least, more familiar to him — not one he engaged in intentionally, but certainly one spoken of even in higher circles, particularly by those with military backgrounds in their family line. “But there is always value in a skill that not everyone possesses. Anyone can, eventually, dig a ditch. Not everyone can wield a sword with skill, and even less can profess to have proven themselves in battle. If you were truly restless here, you could find a travelling caravan willing to pay for hired safety over more dangerous terrain…or you could sell your skills to the aristocracy and train noble children in the ways of a blade. Children, though, do not always…appreciate being taught. And not quite so exciting as testing yourself against three men twice your size, I imagine.”

“Damissan,” Damis said. “Not a lordling, just a man. Or…” His smile tipped up, “…that’s what I aim for. Thank you for the escort, Lady Shalvesta.” If not the blow to the face. He gave a small dip of a bow despite it all to accentuate the thanks. “May your path wind its way towards more favorable times…and God be with you.”

He moved on his way at that, taking her parting comment as reason enough to make his own way home, but that was just as well. As the city had now proved to him more than once, he was not safe in the streets unarmed, and in the future would need to adjust that strategy to something more practical. Beyond that, something distant at the back of his mind jostled, turning on repeat over the name — Shalvesta, Shalvesta, Shalvesta — had he heard it before? It was unique enough that some quality to it stood out, as though there had been at least one instance where it had been a topic of note among the gossip channels.

But he couldn’t, for the life of him, place why or when or what about. Evidently, he either hadn’t been paying enough attention, or his mind was playing tricks on him. He dismissed the thought, and moved on to an internal evaluation of what he would need to bring with him, in the future, particularly when he set out to travel alone.