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originally posted in:The New Dojo
10/31/2016 1:19:02 PM
1
"I am afraid Lucien, that you are farther away than you think. I have not seen the child you speak of, though it pains me to say."
*She turns and begins to walk towards the gate, motioning over he shoulder for him to follow*
"However, this is a place of learning, exploring, and training. You might find someone who knows how to find the child here. Welcome, Farcón, to the Dojo."
*The gates slowly rumble open, and Shadow turns to face him*
"This is a place of warriors, first and foremost. If you ask, I am sure that there will be those who will leap to your aid."
*She turns to face him again, standing in the gateway*
"Please, do come in."
English
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"My thanks, Shadow." The man seemed much more calmer now, seeing Shadow's cooperation. He was willing to overlook any exuding aura that related to the Abbatial from his home. He follows her through the gates and eases up his posture, still analyzing the entire area instinctively, as well as scanning Shadow for any visible weapons on her person. It wasn't an action of hostility: it was a silent precaution of standard. "A place of learning you say? So what are you all? Warriors? Hunters?" The way Shadow described these people sounded similar to the warrior hunter culture of the Tribals back in his home.
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*The woman wore an odd assortment of equipment. Shadow is clad in a suit with plates of what looked to be like a dark steel, but yet left her unhindered in movement. On her head rested a sombrero, which had appeared somehow when Lucian had looked away from her. On her waist rested a belt with two holsters holding two different revolvers. One was large and quite bulky, having two barrels. The other was oddly painted the colors of the rainbow. Lucian could see, however, that she had several knives within easy access on her person, under her armor. She grinned as she felt his eyes on her, knowing what he was doing.* "The Dojo was built by a great warrior to be a place for other warriors to gather. Wether it be to train, learn, or relax from the horrors of the outside world. A safe haven, if you will."
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"Safe haven for fighting? Seems like more of an arena to me." [i]A highly glorified and advanced arena, that is.[/i] Lucien took a closer look at her gear. A double-barrelled revolver? That seemed quite out of place in such an environment until Lucien remembered some old Modernistic Renaissance-Era weapon blueprints that some of the Tribal gunsmiths made their weapons after. The double-barrelled revolver looked oddly similar to them. "That revolver of yours - the one with two barrels. Where did you acquire it?"
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"A gift. A long time ago..." *She stares off into the distance before chuckling* "Well, you are close with the arena analogy. We actually do have an arena here, but we rarely use it."
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[spoiler]It warms my heart to see that you've kept the Markmaker revolver :)[/spoiler] "So what do you people do then? Challenge each other in the streets?" he says with a chuckle. "You remind me of my former people back in my home. Tribals, they were called - but not like the traditional Old-Earth type. Many ethnicities were mixed within their culture, but all were born under the Tribal name, committed to hunting the Infected abominations of my world. Public challenges weren't too odd at all. It was not a test of who was stronger, but mutual honing for each others' skills. I sense somewhat of a similarity here."
