The air in the training rooms stank of the heavy, hot smell of burned leather and plastic, waves of it spat out of the edges of the door periodically, accompanied by flashes of orange light. Inside, a disgruntled looking Cravis was fighting his partner, who was jumping around with knives and fireballs like a more psychotic version of yoda. Needless to say, it wasn't Cravis's idea of a Wednesday afternoon, as he rolled and jumped to avoid attacks, switching between his shields and other equipment to dodge, avoid, and generally not be incinerated by the attacks that came his way as he was pelted by fireball and throwing knives at the rate of a well kept up machine gun. [spoiler]open[/spoiler]