Welcome to Gaia! ::

The next morning greets you in the clearing where Faiza and Radha had met you two days piror, made all the more smaller by the vast amounts of mounts present. "Mount up!" Radha calls, in turn summoning her own. Where Faiza's was sleek, Radha's mount was large and muscular. This mount was not built for speed, but rather for strength and stamina. Both mount and Radha towered above the group before they turned and lead them into the jungle. Faiza waited until everyone was mounted before following, serving as a sort of rear guard and chattering to those nearby.

The next hour was spent on a rather uneventful ride that served as a tour of the War Island. The students got to see trees, trees, a river, more trees, bushes -- the foliage was quite thick, and anyone who attempted to wander off was quickly herded back to the group by Faiza on her quick steed.

Finally they arrived at a large clearing. There were long, straight barren scars that cut through the grass as if many feet had tread there before. The lines never bisected, and were at least ten feet apart from one another. They were roughly one to two hundred feet in length, and wide enough to accommodate a good amount of traffic.

Nearby, several lengths of wood were thrust into the ground. "I hope you took the time to become familiar with your mounts," Radha began as she approached one of these odd lengths, pulling it straight from the ground. It was a lance. "You will need to convince your mount to run the length of the field on the track, towards..."

She trailed off, considering. Radha whistled, tossing her lance towards Faiza. "Take over for me, will you? I will be right back."

Faiza caught the lance and hefted it, waving it to catch the student's attention. "Alright! I think some of you put the pieces together already, but for those of you who haven't this is a practice field." You don't say. "It's here where we of clan War practice not how to ride, but rather practice mounted combat."

Faiza shifted her grip on the lance, her horse shifting eagerly beneath her. "Y'see, combat is a huge part of our life. I mean, we are the War clan after all. It'd be silly if we didn't know how to fight or defend ourselves wouldn't it? Contrary to popular belief, we don't go looking for a fight. Yes, most of us like to but it doesn't mean that we do it all the time."

She gestured towards the field with the lance. "On this particular field we practice jousting. For those of you who aren't familiar with the concept, jousting is the act of two mounted combatants charging at each other with a lance with the intent to knock the other person off of their mount. For us, this builds up strength in both our arms and legs." Faiza lifted the lance in one arm, "See? When I started training, I had to use two hands to hold this. Now I need just one. I can also do this -" She shifted her legs, removing her feet from the stirrups. Her mount stood still as Faiza lifted herself up, bracing herself on her mount with her knees. "If I was thinking a few days ago, Radha wouldn't have been able to drag me off of my mount. But hey," she grinned, lowering herself back down. "That's what practice is for. You make the stupid mistakes now when there's little risk so you don't make them later."

"But really?" Faiza grinned, reaching forward to pat her mount. "It's more about developing a bond between us and our horses. Y'see, different clansmen have different ideas about them. Some think that our horses are an extension of ourselves, a manifestation of Fear. Others think that our Fear lets us summon them, and call them from elsewhere. Every clansmen's horse is different, too: they compliment us and our strengths. You remember what Radha's looks like? Radha's all about strength and power. Mine? Ability and grace here, baby."

The sleek mare tossed her head and pawed the ground, looking rather pleased with herself as Faiza reached forward to pat her affectionately on the neck. "But see, here's the thing. Because everyone's bond with their horse is a little different, it's important that we practice. Sometimes mounts are like... new comrades? New siblings? You know them, yet at the same time you don't know them." She paused, glancing at them uncertainly. "Do you follow? It's like... strangers too. It's like meeting someone for the first time, and getting to know them. That's why we have exercises like these." Faiza extended an arm to indicate the field. "This exercise, jousting, tests the bond between yourself and your mount. You are effectively telling your mount to run full speed at a target. They're going to trust you to not run into the other person."

Faiza glanced at the field, adding, "Normally, we of War would have two people at opposite ends guide their mounts towards one another. If a mount and rider did not have a strong bond, we would put a fence in to separate the two so that the mount did not have to worry about crashing into another. I do not think any of you is very comfortable with your mounts, so we will not be jousting against one another."

The horsewoman paused, her eyes flicking over them as she grinned. "I don't think some of you are very comfortable on your mounts either. And some of your mounts look as if they'd like to very much take a bite out of you."

Radha re-entered the field, dragging something large and heavy behind her. With practiced ease she swung off of her mount and assembled the sticks, creating a target dummy. She then moved onto the next lane and the next, completing the process until each barren lane had a target at one end.

"All right! With the targets in place, go ahead and grab a lance," Faiza instructed, demonstrating to the students how to hold it first with one hand, then with two. "When you feel ready, please move your mount to the front of the lane. I'd like you to tell it to charge forward, and please try to hit the target. Give it you all!" Faiza then hefted the lance in the air, then spun on her mount and began to charge the target.

The Isle of War was nothing like the Isle of Famine.

Where Famine consisted of hot sand, bright sun, and a very desert-like environment that smelled of grass and various plants, War was made up wooden buildings built high up in the arms of the trees of the forest. There were no visible roads or paths when one first entered the island, and there were things littering the ground everywhere - bones, feathers, broken spears, splintered pieces of wood and metal, like small trophies, constant reminders of past wars and past victories. And while it wasn't, perhaps, completely cozy, there was something about it that was extraordinarily interesting all the same.

Sparrow's first class on the Isle of War, however, was not set in the treetops like the rest of the civilization, but on the ground. He dutifully followed the various signs here and there (wondering, in the process, what - or who, rather, the bones were from) until he reached his destination.

When he arrived, it was in the midst of a clearing of trees, and the instructors were seated on a fallen log, conversing with one another. There were no other places to sit, so Sparrow stood there instead, tucking his hands behind his back and peering around curiously. The two horsewomen seemed identical in physical appearance (with the exception of their very starkly different clothing choices), but apparently not quite as identical in personalities.

"Er," said Sparrow, once he could get a word in edgewise. "My name is Sparrow Heartreed..."

His voice fell on deaf ears. The two were now scuffling furiously in the middle of the clearing, each one squawking irritatedly at the other. Sparrow eyed them, rather taken aback, but he said nothing, merely rubbed his face with his hand.

And so it went until the two sisters had finished their little...disagreement, with Radha pinning Faiza to the ground victoriously. Sparrow watched the demonstration that followed this with a great deal of interest, his eyes fixed on the horse as it rode around - and then he took several steps backwards as he tried to avoid being trampled. But both sisters held their control with poise and elegance and it seemed as though not a single student were actually touched.

When it came time to actually make their own knot, Sparrow held the length of rope in his hand and looked at it a bit dubiously. While he enjoyed running and playing sports, he had never been particularly good at any sort of...outdoors-y type things.

So he tried tying a knot. His first attempt seemed quite successful, and Sparrow smiled down at it, pleased - until it fell apart in his fingers.

Sparrow frowned. Then he tried again.

Knot tying? Ok, okay. She could do this. Amarus stared at the vine, her eyes narrowed, and focused on imitating the gestures of the horseman.

The new isle wasn't so bad, though very different. However, she had gone back to her usual state: silvery, blank eyes took everything in without so much as a handful of blinking over the entire explanation. Amarus merely stood with her arms at her sides, tilting her head now and again, bell jingling. She didn't notice her friends nearby, because she was pretty focused on the task at hand, and the desire to not have to ride a beast.

Still, the prospect of learning to fight on horseback, effectively, was something at which Amarus would not turn her nose up. She couldn't afford to have that kind of weakness, now that she knew she had it. Hopefully lassoing would go okay.

Still highly focused on her task, Amarus tied the lasso's knot just right the first time, without pause. It felt good, after failing so many times at Conquest, to do something right.

To tie a knot would require dextrous fingers, which . . . Mort didn't normally have. And indeed, his mind had wandered a bit during the sisters' explanation because, as usual, the zomboil's mind couldn't help but stray to how pretty they both were. Not to mention what it would be like to have wings . . . But he had snapped at to attention once more once the task was given, though the vines were . . . bad memories of the plants from Famine.

Not to mention net wasn't the best at knot-tying. Seating himself beside Amarus and not far from the blond reaper, Mort attempted to recreate the knot the sisters had shown, though all he managed to do was create a tight, useless knot. "Mrrrr . . . Harder than looks," he mumbled.

He had been expecting some sort of wrestling ring or airborne arena or punching bags at the very least, but West wasn't exactly disappointed with a clearing and some baskets either, especially when there were horsewomen leaning on said baskets. It seemed members of this clan were inclined to solve arguments with physical displays of dominance. He tilted his head and openly stared as Radha and Faiza came to an agreement, then retrieved a length of rope and got to knotting. It didn't take long before he had imitated Radha's knot. Now, who to try it out on?

(( SUCCESSFUL KNOTTERY ))