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Commands go out, Rion prepares his shield. Wicklighter loosens the blade in its sheath and whispers a quiet quick offering to the distant instructors. One of the troopers glance at the Rikovian and shake his head. They're not used to that kind of thing. But all Blades know the battle is not the thing that decides. The decision was made in the tutelage of the master and the dilligence of the student, six months ago, on that morning when you decided to sleep or stand up and practice the cut that will save your life.
Markhan glances out over the marks - Reikan for field. Curious namesake, shifting lingustically across the mind like a mirage. There. There!! Low shapes, coming in at a crouch, careful, silent, weapons readied. They're disturbing the plants as they move, low and slow. Would have been hidden but for the lucky toss of the wind.
The Blue Rats form up. The Stern Ravens lock pikes and plug a gap, sure they've got this and deferring more precise instruction. Coldeyed archers check their quivers. Some of them whisper a few prayers, touch the coin shavings they prepared after seeing Luz do the same. It might not help. But any bit of stolen luck could decide who walks away. So why not try?
>... !
