"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
((I'll pick this back up more solidly after finals! Just a couple more weeks ^^))
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
"No, sir. Never had much of a reason to." What with being, well, not a noble or guardsmen. The somewhat snide remark never left his mouth, although it persisted rather strongly in his mind as he mirrored Regulus' movements, not wanting to let him get at his back.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Whyever not? It's a common and useful skill." He tried to knock Cornyx off his feet with his sword, darting for his ankles. "And easy to learn, with practice."
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
In spite of his lack of skill, Cornyx had a singular advantage: even without his true form on the surface, he was fast. It was a necessary adaptation for a flighted predator, of course, and now his body left air where his legs had once been, leaving Regulus' blade to meet the winter breeze instead of flesh.
"I can't say I-I-I've known all that many people skilled in swordplay, my Lord, n-nor was fighting any particular intention of mine," he answered. Easy or not, it was impossible to learn without a sword and someone to teach you--and he doubted that commoners here were passed blades and told to have at it unless they were soldiers, either.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Regulus turned to slash at him again, making a jab at Cornyx's right side. "I find that hard to believe. There are sword masters everywhere." His breath was coming in short, quick puffs as he moved, but he showed no signs of tiring. It was obvious he'd been training in this skill for most of his life.
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik
