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The military armory - as a volunteer, she couldn't really get to it easily. And she knew she shouldn't, not as Rutaca. That sniffnode had to remain clean, otherwise the story... the narrative... wouldn't work.

Rutaca, as a character, did not seek out trouble - she found it, dealt with it, told people the story, and then studied science stuff.

But Keionx was not Rutaca, and she managed to slip away to see the weapons. They were all that was promised - gleaming examples of high-grade craftmanship - beautiful works of weaponry. Oh, the balance of those weapons - she bet that if she held one, it would fit her hand as if made for it.

The Initiative could use these... she thought, staring avariciously at them, I want these...

But no, she was not a thief. She did not steal. If things were leftover, of course she spirited them away. Information, she took and deleted.

But she did not steal. She did not... Or did she? Would it not be just and right to arm those who would fight the mighty beast that was the military?

Keionx, no. She admonished herself. She had morals to uphold - she could not lose them, or she would tarnish her very being...

She turned at a familiar voice, a very un-Rutaca-like grin "Good eve!" she greeted him fondly. She was holding back - she had to hold back a lot. Such were the problems around minding a disguise. And yet, there he was - Cerpin, her student, in all his dashing glory, as clear as the moons.

"'Tis good to see thee as well," As far as she could tell, there wasn't anyone important around, "Mine student - how hast thou been doing?" In his quest - his and tevinis - to touch the very stars.

Probably well. Both of her students were very capable and intelligent (and the third was proving to have that same mettle as well...) She hoped to hear more of it soon. In the meantime, though...

Her grin grew wider. "Dost thou knowest - I twas just athinking upon combat moves to run thee through! Tis very coincidental..." She looked around them, alert like a sky-striking beast.

"Lets find somewhere we can truly stretch our legs."



An open space away from too-interested prying eyes. It was just dangerous enough to be tantalizing - and to need to be aware of what they said outloud. But it was a good space, with good traction, meant for sparring and training. Not like her training meadow, with its scarred trees and stable ground.

But it would do.

Keionx stretched, enjoying the fabric that, as Rutaca, she got to really enjoy. It wasn't armor, but it was nice. "Art thou ready?" she asked - and then she asked it in the universal language of the blade, coming in for the attack.

She trusted him to be ready.

It was a good move - Cerpin's determination took Keionx by surprise. He took his training seriously, but there was usually also an element of play to him. What, then caused the gleam in his eye as he struck her? What, then, gave him those serious creases in his face?

As others might say, Keionx turned it 'up a notch.' If the style he wished for was brute force, then she would give him a wall - she came at him with her shield, a living battering ram.

... and that was, indeed, the problem with a shield, and the reason why armor was worn. She grunted in pain... and in achknowledgement of his strategy. Cheap tricks were part and parcel of fighting - just because she fought fair didn't mean that fair meant the same thing for everyone.

She had learned a lot from teaching Cerpin - that was the give and take of teaching, at its finest.

"Then make it hurt more." she commented, moving in on the offensive to strike him.

This was a trick he hadn't tried before - it took Keionx by surprise as she held onto her sword and gave him the perfect opening. Keionx reacted, landing on her own terms instead of flat on her back, but it was still a vulnerable position, one that Cerpin's merciless strikes took advantage of with ferocity.

It was all Keionx could do to bring up her shield, hold onto her things, and get out of the situation. She scrambled to her feet again, bleeding now quite a bit."Thou... werst not kidding, I see," she murmured, "and took mine advice." Too well, perhaps. But this was part of training, was it not? To be struck and injured and stand back up again to strike again?

She would have to keep up with that move in the future. But for now, her eyes blazed - this was a lesson that was now on both. She must bounce back - and must also teach him anew. Teach, learn, and teach again - she would uphold her end of the cycle.