ORIGIN

A relatively lazy day and permission from the Sentinel to abandon its post for the time being led the Warden to Pegasus for a day of solo training. It had trained itself physically, of course, but not enough, and certainly not enough with the glaive it now swung around casually. This it would fix now - peace had lasted for too long and the Warden knew that something would come for them soon.

As it made its way across Pegasus, it dragged behind it a grayish shape - a tunnel runner deer that it had just killed on the way over. This would be both its dummy and its lunch, once it had had its fill of combat practice.

Once it had arrived in the forest, it reached down to the nearest fern, ripping out a few strong leaves before turning to the first strong tree in its path. A low hanging branch allowed the Warden to string up the tunnel runner by its leg, using the ferns like rope to secure it to the tree. It hung there, rather grimly, as the Warden took a step back and gripped Lightning with both hands.

With a heavy swing of its arms, the Warden slashed forward, twisting its upper body around through the follow through of the polearm. The blade slid neatly through the flesh of the deer, just as intended, splattering red over the ground beneath it.

A grin of almost sadistic pleasure at the wonderfully smooth hit and it felt the need to inflict more damage. Almost a bloodlust-like sensation that led its next series of attacks a little bit out of control.

The first swing of the glaive sliced across the skin of the tunnel runner as intended, but it hadn't quite been anticipating the swing of the deer from side to side. So as it followed up with a number of other small attacks, it missed each from the swing of the deer.

Frustrated, the warden lowered its glaive and glared at the swinging deer carcass. It would have to think more, instead of swinging without thought.

The Warden waited until the carcass had stopped its swinging back and forth. It gripped the glaive and got into its proper stance before lunging forward, practicing a series of attacks that the Sentinel had showed it. This time he was careful to adjust himself for each way the carcass swung, slicing small but numerous cuts across the deer's body. Each wound inflicted sent a surge of satisfaction through his arms and swirled through that ever-growing lust for chaos and violence. Yeah, this was good, really good! But it wanted more...more....MORE.

It pulled itself out of its bit of battle fury with a grunt, the flashes of light bursting from Lightning's blade ceasing as the attacks stopped. The tunnel runner's carcass was now matted with blood from his many attacks and it felt a slight weariness in his arms - good, that meant it was improving! But that was no time to stop, when it began to grow tired. That was a time to push forward and continue!

It steeled itself, gripping the metal hilt once again.

The Warden looked down at Lightning, wondering how effective it would be, if someone got too close, to hit them with the hilt of the glaive instead of the blade. It was long, and made of metal, so a strong enough attack would definitely do enough damage.

It gave it a try, clumsily swinging its arms forward, realizing too late that it was trying to do a regular attack but...differently. And it just kind of ended up slamming its hand into the deer carcass, sending it swinging around rather gruesomely.

The Warden did not hear the Labradorite approach, so when it spoke, the beast flinched and turned its head, eyes wide and claws gripping Lightning hard, ready to attack. But no...it recognized it. Black Oil and red eyes and labradorite stone within its chest. It lowered its glaive and turned to face it, flipping the weapon so that the butt of it touched the ground and the blade reached upwards. "V-Labradorite-One," it rumbled as a greeting in return, following the dip of its head with its own curt nod.

It glanced back at the deer still swinging from the tree and snorted, almost in amusement, although at what was unclear - the question or the macabre way in which it hung. "It is practice!" It reached up an arm and pointed to the many wounds across its body. "There is no need to hold back blows against a target already dead. I practice my swing. My strength. It is better then wood, not as hard on the blade. Easier to cut." And, as if in demonstration, The Warden gripped its glaive again, turned, and slashed across the surface of the deer. There was the satisfying sound of metal rending flesh and another rather shallow cut appeared once the flash of Lightning had faded.

It returned to its earlier position and turned back to the labradorite. "Is there something you required of me?"

The Warden stared at the labradorite, looking it up and down for a moment as it suggested "sparring". It had never sparred with anyone besides The Sentinel, who had a weapon of its own. What would it do against someone without anything to block the blows of lightning? It would, of course, as the other suggested, have to 'hold back'. That kind of sucked and was kind of the point of it coming all the way out here.

But it knew that to refuse an offer to spar was like refusing fresh meat placed placed before its jaws.

So The Warden twisted the glaive so that its blade was pointed down, and slammed it into the earth next to the tree, embedding the metal into the earth so that the hilt stood tall on its own. It turned back to the labradorite and snorted. "Fine. But I will not use a blade against you, when you have only your body to defend. We fight hand to hand." If its face was capable of making expression, perhaps it would have a curled, arrogant grin. "If that's okay with you?"

The Warden also took a step back as they prepared themselves for a spar. It flexed its fingers, rolled back a shoulder, swung its tail a bit to get all its natural weapons ready for combat. It liked swinging the glaive around, sure, but it was also a lot of fun to just throw itself in headfirst and fight like a goddamn animal.

The offer to start a fight made the Warden chuckle a bit. "Sure." How generous, to let it get in the first strike!

Once the offer'd been made and accepted, the Warden began, immediately charging forward, pushing off with its powerful legs and raising an arm to bring a sharp claw down on the labradorite, its aim targeting the face, although really any part of it would be nice.