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Survival 101 take 6: The return of the bluh monster

And bluh it was. The guest speaker seemed to be a troll with more confidence than sense. Not to mention he was probably the most scarred-up, ridiculous looking blueblood she had ever seen. He was supposed to be telling them about how to deal with strange situations using their personal knowledge and skill.... But it had turned into a detailed retelling of the time he wrestled with a giant raging snortbeast and how he rose up to slaughter it... Some nonsense like that.

So Abrila did was she does best; she fell asleep on the desk.

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Combat 101

Frossa decided to attend one of the mini tournament classes again- they were her favourite. Nothing felt better than ranking high among a couple dozen trolls, and thrashing a few lowerbloods in the process. It was the same s**t over and over, yet it never got old! she couldn't help but wish that there was some sort of activity that she could do like this all the time; the most 'fighting' she ever really did was make believe FLARP stuff. Sure, Frossa hunted down trolls in the Four Fronds games- but her success was mainly due to her trapping skills. It was hardly ever a contest! The indigoblood mused to herself, trying to brainstorm how she could get more sparring action in her life as she smashed down a greenblood. Was there some sort of troll fight club? She'd have to remember to ask Alifax, he lived where all the toughies did in the mountain. For now, though, this was all she wanted!
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Cheese returned to the track yet again for another four hours of jogging, this time making it through all four before she had to quit. She probably wasn't learning a lot about actual survival, but physical endurance was just as important as knowing what you needed to do in such situations.

Combat 101

The blueblooded warrior was back for tonight's training, and was standing in the middle of the ring with a greenblood he towered head-and-shoulders over--not that the greenblood was short, he was easily average for an adult male, it's more that the blueblood was enormous. Pyruet accepted the mouthpiece and sparring gloves she was given, turning her revolvers over to one of the soldiers at the entrance. She bit the required holes into the mouthpiece and shoved it into place before pulling on the gloves, waiting for the lesson to start.

"A'ight, everyone should be here by now, le's get started." he boomed, grinning around at the crowd in front of the ring. "Today, we'll be doing some more hands-on combat, cause ******** that theoretical 'know thy enemy' bullshit, you sons-a-bitches need to know how to fight, and fightin' is what I teach. Last time I'd put you on the offensive, tellin' you why you sucked at attacking as you did so. Tonight, you'll be on the defensive. You'll be trying your best to keep from gettin' hit in the face until you stop moving, and as much as I'd love to be the one in the ring with you, I'd prob'ly get caught up in the moment and accidentally kill you." He gave a short chuckle as he awkwardly glanced at the ground. "It's uh, it's happened before.

"Point is, that's why my beloved protege is here--don't be all self-conscious now, say hi." He nudged the man beside him, who did indeed look a bit shy in front of the audience. He raised a single padded hand in greeting, and let out an "Uh, h'lo all." The blueblood smirked, and continued. "He ain't quite the finely-tuned war machine I am, but I've no doubt in his abilities. He won't be aiming to maim anyone, but he's not pullin' any punches either; you'd best have your guard up or you'll be hittin' the dirt before you even realize you got decked. Form a circle around the ring, single-file if you would, and we'll get started."

As the first troll stepped into the ring, the blueblood backed away, and the greenblood shifted his feet apart, hunching slightly, getting into a boxing stance. "Lemme know when you're ready." As soon as the go-ahead was given, the protege launched his assault, a flurry of punches landing on the challenger's arms, one blow barely landing before the next was launched. The trainee was struggling to even maintain his balance against the constant force meeting him, not to mention blocking each hit. Sure enough, just a few seconds in, he slipped up, didn't move quick enough, and the greenblood's fist connected square with his cheek. The troll's head was whipped around as he dropped cleanly, hitting the dirt exactly like the blueblood had warned. "C'mon, back up." the greenblood said, extending a hand to the fallen troll. "We're gonna keep going till we hit five minutes, or till you can't take any more, whichever comes first."

The first challenger managed to last all five minutes, though he did exit the ring looking slightly crosseyed after taking several more hits during his turn. The next troll was called in by the blueblood, and after ensuring they were ready, the greenblood continued his vicious beating. The second troll lasted just over three minutes before throwing in the towel. It continued like this, most trolls managing to make it through their five minutes, and Pyruet was no exception. She stepped in, nodded a confirmation when she was ready, and was instantly greeted with a blow so heavy that even blocking it sent a jolt of pain through her arm. The shock causing a delay in her reflexes, she barely managed to catch his next punch. Fighting through the pain, getting in a rhythm, she managed to make it to the two-minute-mark before the first punch connected with her stomach. She let out a muffled "Ooof!" and her spinal crevice hit the floor. She sat for a moment, stunned, before she realized she wasn't breathing. She gripped her stomach and waited for her breath to return and stabilize before being helped back to her feet, and continuing the fight. She let a punch by three more times during her first round in the ring, and each time, went down. The greenblood was incredibly strong, her arms and hands were stinging even despite the gloves. If he was just the student, she couldn't imagine getting into a fight with the blueblood running the class. Quite frankly, it was an incredibly humbling experience to be so thoroughly outmatched by someone by someone the aged warrior seemed to consider little more than a kid.

Once the first round had completed and everyone had had their five minutes of abuse, the blueblood stepped back toward the center of the ring. "That...wasn't terrible, from the most of you! The ones who didn't give up before time was up, anyway. Quitters never got anywhere, especially not in the records of war heroes. You should remember that." He stared pointedly at each troll who'd thrown in the towel as he spoke. "In fact, quitting in the middle of a mission is a crime. The army don't take kindly to criminals. Food fer thought." His stare lingered on the last troll for a few seconds before he seemingly remembered his point. "Anyway, repetition is key, those who were here the other night know what I'm sayin', and probably still have a few shiners. Point is, we're doin' that again." His former serious expression was gone, replaced by the grin that he seemed to wear when combat was present. He called the first troll back up, who was looking considerably less dazed after the break he'd been given, and the rather one-sided fight resumed.

The original challenger did considerably better this round, despite his injuries. Even when he let a punch by, catching it square in the mouth and hitting the ground again, he was barely down for a full second before bouncing back up, blood welling up in the crevice of his pursed lips. That was the only blow he missed, successfully blocking every other one before exiting the ring, beaming like he'd just won a medal. In fact, every troll showed marked improvement. Not one gave up before their five minutes were up--though the blueblood's vague threat probably helped with that--and a few, Pyre included, managed to keep from getting hit at all.

"Haha! Much better! Mostly." the soldier called out, walking back to the center of the ring, flashing a huge smile at those who'd held a perfect defense. "Now, not to knock the kid's skill, but he's been through a few dozen rounds now. He's wearing down, gettin' a bit slow." The greenblood flushed, a slight frown crossing his face. The blueblood didn't seem to notice, and continued. "So we're goin' around one more time. This time, when you get an opening, try to hit back. He's a strong guy, he can take it, right?" He clapped the greenblood on the shoulder, and the smaller man gave a quick nod. "One more time, you ready?" he asked as the first in line stepped into the ring again, the blueblood yet again backing away. It was true, the greenblooded soldier was noticeably slower and sloppier in his assault--that was most likely why everyone had shown so much improvement in the second round, warming up couldn't account for all of it. And in the third round, the rookies fared even better. The first civilian nearly managed to hit him back, though the greenblooded warrior caught his fist and shoved him backwards before continuing the assault. Pyre watched every fight intently, examining the greenblood's stance, the way he threw punches, the instinctive way he blocked without looking.

She stepped into the ring when her turn came around. Despite the fact that he was noticeably wearing down, he barely seemed winded, his breathing only slightly heavier than it had been her first time in the ring. She raised her padded fists, adjusted her feet, and gave a stiff nod. The flurry of punches may have been easier to keep up with this time, but they were no less vicious, each hit causing her arms to burn yet again--they'd probably be damn near useless for a couple nights after this. She tried to look for an opening, wait for him to slow down, and eventually, she got a shot. The slightest fatigued hesitation on the greenblood's part, and she leaned in, jabbing as hard as she could, the punch connecting cleanly with the soldier's chest. It was the first direct hit of the night.

It felt a whole lot like punching a tree, and accomplished about as much.

A jolt of pain shot through Pyre's elbow, up to her shoulder as her joints protested the unyielding impact, the pause from the pain nearly causing her to get decked back. She awkwardly blocked his counter-attack, the sloppy defense nearly causing her to lose her balance when it connected. She managed to recover, and though she didn't stop looking for opportunities to hit back, the remainder of her five minutes was spent on the defensive.

Only two more trolls managed to land solid hits on their superior, and before long, the blueblood was stepping back in to conclude the final round. "Outstandin'." He was absolutely beaming at the class. "The amount of improvement shown here in the past couple hours is downright flooring. You guys totally surpassed my expectations." His gaze went around the class, lingering on the three trolls who'd gotten in hits, and Pyre felt herself blush slightly under his stare and unvoiced "especially you three." "I'm int'rested in seeing how far you bastards'll progress with extended training, especially the grubs." He gave a short laugh and shook his head. "Get outta here, go ice your arms or somethin'. Dismissed." Before she turned to leave, Pyre couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride as she noticed a rather large bruise forming on the greenblood's chest.

MEDICINE 101

"Today we begin the second half of our discussion of cardiopulmonary resuscitation,” their instructor began. “I know you all have been looking forward to the practical very much.”

Alifax thought. Cardiopu – oh. Oh no. He wished dearly that he could abscond; he was not sure of the point of CPR. He didn’t expect to spend his entire life as a friend to Hazzan and Frossa – surely he wouldn’t need to learn this! Of course, this was an objection that he simply could not voice to the instructor, or in fact to anyone at the army encampment. That was natural, of course, but he dearly wished he could think of some excuse to escape this.

But he was a redblood, he reminded himself. Redbloods endured what they needed to endure, and they…well, no. He could not think of many redbloods who enjoyed it. But what redbloods did was pave the way for other members of the troll species to rise to glory. That was a good thing, right?

Somehow, Alifax couldn’t get himself hyped up about it tonight.

They were practicing, fortunately, not on each other but on dummies – strange, frightening dummies that were missing their horns or their hair, but they were dummies. At least their skin was properly colored, and the flush of their blood was clearly visible – they were tealblooded dummies, possibly because the instructors believed that the color was close enough to a blueblood that lowbloods would have a duty to help, and because clearly it wouldn’t do to display a blueblooded dummy that was hornless. Bluebloods, Alifax knew, had their dignity.

He started when he realized that a line had been forming. No, Alifax decided. As pointless as this class was, he would not miss it. He headed for the end of it, dreading his eventual turn.

Tactics 101

Cheese fell asleep the first time she attended tactics, and was rewarded with a swift blow to the head. Woops.

Combat. Only a couple posts behind, woo.

MEDICINE 101

Learning how to repair wings seemed pretty pointless to Alifax: he didn't know many trolls who had them, after all! And he was certain that this information would never apply to a ship. Did they still have wings? Alifax wasn't sure; for all he knew, their current empress had ordered a redesign. Although that did seem a little more impractical than she had acted at that speech - the current Condescension was a really benevolent ruler, he thought. There was no reason for her to give everyone this information, or expose one of the empire's weaknesses so publicly.

He raised his gaze to meet their instructor's, realizing that he hadn't quite been paying attention to her lecture. Wow - he felt tired. The instructor stared at him, and then her eyes moved on to the next recruit as she spoke. He'd have liked to say that she was droning, but her voice was actually quite animated - although it was clear that she herself did not have wings (those, Alifax felt, would be visible).

He wiggled his toes and scratched an itch, waiting for the practical. At least they weren't silly enough to try to make this a multiple-part class! Alifax wasn't sure that he'd have been able to stand that.