The Sentinel plodded for the Aperture, V-Onyx-Two at his heels. He'd done his best, thus far, to explain the basics of combat to this half-grown child: how to deflect a strike without breaking an arm, the weak points of an enemy, how to predict incoming attacks, how not to rely overmuch on magic or physical prowess but to use whatever was best at the time.
But--as he'd explained, as best his twisted vocabulary allowed--words were no substitute for practice. As a child, he had wandered the caves whenever allowed, learning from those he fought. He'd sought out enemies of all types and broadened his horizons, gathering lessons as he went.
For the first opponent who was not himself, he was taking Onyx-Two to his firstborn: the Warden. Since he, himself, was not guarding the Aperture, he expected to find the Warden there. They could spar, or at least that was his intent, right there while guarding the gate together. Onyx-Two as yet had no weapon, but training without one was good on its own.
V-Onyx-Two followed along, quiet and a little sullen, a frown on alabaster face. The only clothing he wore was a black cloth tightly tucked around his waist for protection--a cloth that had swaddled him as a toddler. Now he was the equivalent of about a preteen: slender, fragile but growing like a weed in terms of height. Wings were held close, uncertainty in his steps and in the gaze that he shot at every shadow, frowning: he didn't really know The Warden, and wasn't sure what to expect.
He was, truth be told, a little afraid; a reality that showed in the hammer of his heart. But he couldn't exactly say that. His stonegiver never seemed to fear anything, so he just assumed it was some inborn weakness of his own. He'd kept to himself, not really gotten to know any of the rest of the Forge, so this... would be an unknown, all of it.
Onyx-Two tried to just go over his training, in his mind--to cling to what little he'd practiced with his father. But it was precious little reassurance, when he pictured the looming spines and centaur-predator body of the Warden in his mind.
@The Warden
The Sentinel had assumed correctly, finding the Warden at its post before the Aperture, looking rather intimidating where it stood, arms crossed in front of it, glaring into the distance of the tunnel. Head turned just slightly as its life-giver called its name, breaking its stoic silence. Arms dropped and one reached around to grasp the hilt of Lightning where it had been placed leaning against the wall.
It turned fully to face the Sentinel, greeting him with a rumble -
Even with its sense of superiority and contempt, however, The Warden did not expect the command of the Sentinel, snapping its gaze back up with shock.
The Warden turned and placed Lightning back against the wall - it already had such a steep advantage over the kid, no need to add blindness to the mix. Taking a step back so that there was more room, it turned to the kid and crossed its arms again.
The Sentinel stepped aside, and to anyone who did not know him, his next command would have probably have seemed like a joke:
He seemed to assume that there was some possibility--no matter how slim--of the soft and slender, unarmed creature posing an actual threat to the tailor-made massacre-intended monster.
Perhaps it was a case of 'better safe than sorry,' or maybe the Deathmatch champion was an incredibly bad judge of potential. Or maybe it had been humor, though to those who did know him, that seemed... wildly unlikely.
The Sentinel had given V-Onyx-Two the benefit of very simple training. After the aforementioned lesson, they'd had a spar of their own, though most of it had consisted of Onyx-Two winding up winded on his back. But his strikes had, at the very least, gone from very awkward overhand slaps to sideways punches, though with all the force behind them of a whipped wet towel. That was what he opened with now: a slow and toddling uncertain child's rush forward, a studious frown aimed exactly at his target (the Warden's frontmost left leg) and an arm cocked back and sideways to swing a closed-fist little punch at the middle joint. If he'd been an armored soldier the same size as the Warden; if he had held a weapon; if he hadn't completely telegraphed his attack intentions; if he had anything resembling speed...
Well, he didn't. And in the end it was indeed a child's awkward slap aimed for the Warden's leg.
Round: 1/5?
Attempt: A ᴛɪɴʏ slap-punch at the Warden's leg joint
Defense: absolutely not
Injuries: none
@The Warden
The Warden snickered at the teeny little protest, gazing right back at the fearful stare, like a bully looming over the victim it had just knocked over. It didn't move, didn't brace for any attack, didn't make any move to prepare itself past the step backwards for room. It just watched, arms crossed, pupil-less eyes watching as the child toddled forward straight for its leg. If it was an opponent that was any real threat to it, it would probably make some attempt to move out of the way. But what could a child this size do?
Tiny hands came down on its leg, a strike that the Warden could barely feel against the natural armor. It snorted, even as its leg jerked the slightest bit from the strike against the joint.
@V-Onyx-Two
DEFENSE: natural armor
INJURIES: none whatsoever
His focus remained intense--he was afraid, deathly so, and terrified of failure, and so his gaze remained locked upon the Warden's legs. He didn't dare glance back or up at the Sentinel, or at the Warden itself, who frightened him.
And it wasn't that he'd ever come to harm at the Forge members' hands, previously--heck, these two were family, even if he didn't quite know the term. The Warden just looked monstrous, like a single twitch could rip one of Onyx-Two's limbs apart. So after his impact, he stared--at Warden's leg--and braced himself for impending death.
Nothing-... except mockery, and this at last made him look up, made his little face twist into upset from the terrible feeling of being simply dismissed. Laughed at. He just-... wanted to learn. But the Warden was really mean! The shame that coursed over him made him almost wish for a wound, instead. Let the Warden lash out with limb instead of words, because man, these words sucked.
With no experience to draw on, V-Onyx-Two had no idea what to do. His strongest little punch had made his target laugh. He didn't know the Warden's reach or power. So he went for the next best thing: experimentation.
He leapt up, scrambling for the Warden's plated flank, trying to get onto his back. Maybe... that would be out of reach? Could the Warden reach its own back-?
Round: 2/5?
Attempt: Use the Warden as a mighty steed
Defense: none
Injuries: none
@The Warden