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#1 2020-01-20 10:02:37 PM

Ol'random
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From: Somewhere by the Mountains
Registered: 2018-05-25
Posts: 416
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Future Training... - LP 1/20/20

Sgts. Felicity & Terrence, hares.


Near the front of the nearly empty hall just in front of the podium sits Terrence on one of the benches. Next to the sergeant lies a small pile of papers which unlike usually are neatly stacked and well ordered, a bit uncharacteristic for the buck's usual work. Admittedly the large room is almost hilariously oversized for his purpose, but whatever. A meeting room's a meeting room, and none of the privates or recruits will over hear even if it concerns them- Terrence can't remember the last time he saw one voluntarily enter here, so he waits in relatively peace and quiet until he can discuss the plans and ideas he has for the Long Patrol's training with his fellow sergeant, who hopefully got the message and would be arriving shortly. If not, Terrence was beginning to resign himself for waiting an hour or so...

Felicity got the message while dealing the the rebellious, slightly chauvinistic Recruit Whisowski.  Seriously, how can 1 hare think he's so amazing?  The poor Sergeant is stuck with job of knocking him down a peg or 2, and it's stressing her out almost as much as trying to help Dominik, although in remarkably different ways.  Finally, the Runner was able to release her trainees to the Healers who are so kindly teaching the Recruits and Privates about how to forage (and also avoid poisonous plants).  Lissie darts up the through the passageways of Salamandastron, still in her sweaty, much-patched uniforms that she wears when she's training so she can do the exercises with the hares under her.  She bursts into the meeting room, jogs over to Terrence, and flops down on the cool floor, striving to regain her breath.  "Hi....got...message....gimme....sec....wot..."

"Oh." Terrence stares down at her, not quite sure what to do. "You made it." Unlike Felicity, he's field uniform which has seen very little action outside of the escapade to retrieve Dom in the swamp. Standing, the sergeant looks down at her for a moment before taking a waterskin and pouring a glass. Kneeling down he offers the cup to her with the words, "I hope you have a good reason ending up like this," He jokes with small smile, "As its rathah unsightly to see a sergeant panting on the flooh fifteen or so minutes late. Trouble with that recruit again?" He can't for the life of him remember the name. Wosiski? Wosherik? He sure didn't know.

Felicity scowls with bad humour as she accepts the cup and takes a swig.  "Aye.  Stupid Whisowski thinks 'e doesn't 'ave t'listen t'me just 'cause I'm female.  Cad!"  She sits on a bench.  "'Ad t'make 'im do th'plank wi' me.  I outlasted 'im, o' course, but 5 minutes is enough t'make anybeast all gross."  She finishes off the cup of water.  "I also do all th'drills wi' 'em, partly t'keep in shape, an' partly so's I don't 'ave as much whinin'.  They don't mind drills s'much when the beast orderin' 'em t'do it is doin' it t'gethah wi' 'em."  She tugs her longs sleeves down and smiles at him.  "But enough o' that.  Whot did y'wanna talk t'me about?"

Listening intently, Terrence simply nods. He hasn't had anything near the same issues in getting hares to follow his orders, but obviously he isn't in the same situation at all. "Ah, yes." At her question, the sergeant picks up the papers on the bench to take out the second page and hold it out to Felicity. "This, in particulah. It's a very basic training requirement I thought up."
The paper reads as such:
'Part 2. Marching Training for Recruits
Before training in any other ability is begun, a recruit must first master marching:
A. The ability to march in formation 18 miles at standard pace (about 3 miles/per hour) with full kit and gear in one half-day (about 6 hours) and be ready and able for battle afterwards and/or able to set up a fortified encampment for the night.
- Reason: a formation that does not march in step is often split by stragglers going different speeds which makes the formation vulnerable to attacks.
B. The ability to march in formation 21 miles at quick pace (3.5 miles per hour) with full kit and gear in one half-day and be ready and able for battle afterwards and/or set up a fortified encampment.'

Felicity accepts the paper and holds out the cup.  "Would y'mind gettin' me more watah?  I feel like a desaht in summah."  She then holds up the paper and reads it.  After a few moments, she nods.  "Aye, sounds reasonable.  I already do that, sort of, wi' m'Runnahs.  Make 'em run wi' full kit an' gear on the shoreline an' in th'dunes.  Get 'em used t'runnin' wi' all th'things goin' on."  She offers the page back to him.  "Whot's page 1?"  Because he gave her page 2.

"Right, right." Terrence mutters, looking down at his work. "The first part's about all that kit and geah - here." He hands over the first page, which reads as thus:
'Part 1. standardized equipment:
Each hare will be issued two uniforms; one combat uniform and one dress uniform.
A. Combat/Campaign Uniforms and Equipment.
Combat uniforms consist of a linen undershirt, tan trousers, and a grey military tunic. A black belt worn at the true waist and matching boots on the feet shall be worn. Over the boots undyed puttees must be wrapped securely around the calf over the boots and trousers, from heel to just under the knee.
Lastly, a great coat of undyed cloth will be issued to every hare for cold weather, while in warmer weather the coat must be rolled up and worn en bandolier from the right shoulder to the left hip.
Weapons & Equipment:
Every hare of the Long Patrol when on campaign must have one short blade (knife, dirk, or dagger), one sling, and one spear. In addition, at least 15 days worth of food rations and mess kit containing bowl, cup, and spoon must carried by hares when in the field. All hares must have on their persons at least one waterskin, no exceptions.
Personal equipment, such as bows and swords are allowed to be carried in the field in addition to the three standard weapons. A cloak may be carried in addition to the other articles of clothing, however it is suggested to be stowed away for fighting.'

There is a part B entitled Dress Uniforms, however those are the only words that can be made out. Whatever was written was crossed out.
"Sorry 'bout that last bit- unfinished."
Terrence, instead of refilling her glass just hands over his waterskin.

Felicity accepts the waterskin and starts sipping from it as she looks over the paper.  "Speahs wouldn't be 'elpful f'r Runnahs.  We'd 'ave t'leave 'em be'ind when we went scoutin'.  I 'onsetly can't use one proficiently.  Bettah wi' m'sword an' sling."  She squints at the scribbled out words, then returns to the rest of the paper.  "Great coats....anythin' that reaches below the knees would cause problems foh us Runnahs, as well.  Would 'indah our mobility.  An' 'm not sure grey is th'best comoflague out on th'shores."  She glances up at him appreciateively, though.  "I will say this all seems like some pretty good ideas, 'specially foh th'Fightahs.  'Ow long 'ave y'been workin' on this?"

"Admittedly this all was written from a fightah's perspective. And there was a reason I didn't start with this." Terrence replies with rueful smile. "My thinking fo'h grey was that it's a good universal colah - at distance in any sort of fog o'h even trees a column of hares would be hardah than usual to spot. Not that a great line of hares is hard to see normally, but anything'll help." With a shrug as he sits, Terrence continues, "Undeyed linen is more o'h less sand colored, so that could be bettah, and the coat's main function is a sort of armoh. I can't imagine it getting cold enough 'round here to use it consistently, and the Patrol certainly doesn't have enough in the way of protection." After a moment or so, he adds, "And even and what about javelins instead of speahs for runners?"

Felicity ahs and nods, offering the buck back his waterskin.  "I undahstand now.  May'ap make th' coats just long enough t'meet th'thigh, like m'quilted coat?  That would provide th'needed protection while not 'inderin' movement."  After a pause, she nods.  "Aye, javelins would wohrk, although most o' us Runnahs would need trainin' t'use 'em."  She smiles as she looks up at him.  "Good thing y'got a Runnah to show this to, huh?  May'ap we should try t'get a 'Ealah's perspective, too, just t'make sure we undahstand whot they need in a uniform, too."

There's a long pause before Terrence answers. "I don't know of any healah's ranked above private who'd be willing to meet with me. We have a shortage of them, I think." The sergeant shrugs. "Of course fightah's uniform and runnah's can be different..." Sitting down he sets the papers next to him, saying, "Most of the time the cloaks would be worn rolled up hanging from shoulder to hip - its hard to cut through any sort of cloth, and a rolled up chunk of it should hindah most weapons from dealing a killing blow..."

Felicity straightens the paper in her paws.  "Aye, would make sense t'make both different, bettah suited foh each position.  We c'n pin down th' 'Ealahs and see whot they think, be they Privates or Genahrals, wot!"  She wrinkles her nose slightly.  "Wouldn't 'avin' a bundle o' cloth on y'back make anythin' difficult?  Sounds awful bulky."

"If its rolled up and secured properly it shouldn't be an issue," Terrence says as he slings the waterskin back over his shoulder, "And it wouldn't be any more cumbersome than having a pack - from what I've done to my own coat its about fou'h to five inches. Like a sash, but thickah."

Felicity still looks slightly skeptical.  "I'd 'ave t'try it."  She hands the paper back to him.  "I've been 'avin' my own ideas, too.  I was thinkin' we could combine our divisions foh trainin'.  I'd be in charge o' th'Runnahs, put 'em through endurance an' strength drills.  Y'd be in charge o' th'Fightahs, do th'same sort o' thing.  May'ap put Zeldove an' Zolomon in charge o' th'archahs.  I 'ave a 'Ealah I know -- 'e's retired, but 'e's been 'elpin' me by teachin' m'Recruits an' Privates 'bout different plants an' 'ow t'forage, along wi' th'Infirmary workahs.  May'ap put 'im in charge o' teachin' whot few 'Ealahs we 'ave battlefield medicine, an' then send all o'th'trainees off wi' 'im when we're done.  May'ap 'ave Dom 'elp y'wi' th'Fightahs, too, since Majah Varus thinks 'e's ready to staht doin' that agin."  She doesn't seem so sure.

Terrence dips his head. "That would be good - combining our divisions, that is." The face he makes at the thought of letting Zolomon and Zeldlove do their own thing with the archers isn't exactly one of joy. "Zeldove and Zolomon... I don't quite trust them enough to leave them in charge..." He bites his lip. "Zolomon needs to work on combat, anyway. As for Zeldove, she's just barely a private and need a lot more training, though to be quite honest, I think we all need to start over when it comes to training." He shrugs, "Seems to me the easiest, at least- to start every hare corporal and below from the beginning. Then we can know everyone had the same base line before we start any sort of specialized stuff for runnah's, fightah's, healah's, or archah's."

Felicity shrugs.  "Oh, they were gonna be undah youh watch, but whatevah y'feel most comfortable with."  Her brows furrow.  "But whot if some o' us highah rankin' 'ares don't know some o' this stuff?  Like javelins an' speahs -- I really nevah got any trainin' wi' 'em.  They could tell since I leahned t'walk that I was a Runnah bohrn, so I didn't get much in th'way o' trainin' in any othah field."  She's definitely worried about seeiming incompetent in front of the hares under her command.  Especially Whisowski.

"Ah..." Looking down, Terrence thinks for a moment. "Perhaps you can learn with the troops...? Or actually," he sits upright once the idea occurs to him, "Why don't you hold off on practicing with javelins till you focus on the runnahs exclusively? Have every hare, sunnah, fightah, and healah leans the same basic combat skills. Speahs are bloody well easy too use, just point and stab! Biggest issue with them really is working in a formation. Aftah the marching and basic combat's done, then you and I can focus on runnahs and fightahs respectively - plus that Worricksi's a fightah, right? So I'll be dealing with him and he'll be out of you'h fu'h."

Felicity still looks unsure.  "I dunno....I'd still 'ave th'Runnah's knowin' I knew nothin'.  Don't feel like gettin' shown up like tha' when I'm the one who's s'possed t'be trainin' 'em."  She smiles slightly, though.  "Although 'avin' somebeast else dealin' wi' Whisowski will be nice."  She then smiles and point at the buck.  "I say, d'y'know 'ow t'use a javelin?  May'ap y'could teach me!  An' we c'n wohrk on boxin', too.  An' I promise t'not tackle y'this time," she adds with a twinkle in her eye.

Terrence, after a moment's hesitation, smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes though. "I don't know how to use a javelin, actually. Hence why I didn't write that one down!" He laughs, "Paw to paw combat absolutely should be a part of the training, perhaps tackling and all... and at least both of us know how to use slings and daggers."

Felicity's smile falters, then she crosses her arms and nods.  "Fine, then teach me t'use a speah, an' we c'n leahn javelins t'gethah.  I'm assumin' y'know 'ow t'use a speah."  Her smiles becomes a bit wicked, but not enough to be truly scary.  "Fine, per'aps we c'n staht workin' on paw-to-paw trainin' tomorrah.  I could use tips on 'ow t'beat a beast wi'out tacklin' 'em.  Mm, ma'ap work on m'daggah skills, too..."  She seems to get lost in thought for a moment.

"No, the speah I always carry 'round is just fo'h show." Terrence replies flatly, looking her dead in the eye. "I obviously lug it places fo'h looks alone." The sergeant then winks, cracking a wider (and more genuine) smile than before. "Yes, I know how to use a speah. And I certainly hope you aren't having thoughts of shanking me when we spah, wot!" He adds, still grinning. "Would be rathah a poo'h show."

Felicity grins back at him.  "Oh, good, so y'c'n teach me 'ow t'not look like a nincompoop when carryin' a speah.  Excellent."  Laughing, she goes to shove his shoulder a little.  "No, I won't stab ya, although if y'bug me enough I might tackle y't'th'floor agin instead o' boxin' faih.  Let th'Recruits make bets on who'll win."  She's just joking.

With a raised eyebrow, Terrence goes along with the joke, "Well, I would be bettah prepared fo'h that, so it might not work as well as it did before!" The sergeant chuckles, shaking his head. "It'd be damned hard to look like a nincompoop with a speah, unless you really didn't know what you're doing. Just make sure which end is which and you'll be fine."

Felicity chuckles.  "Oh, we'll see 'bout tha'," she says primly.  Sobering up a little, she shakes her head.  "Are y'sure?  I felt awful ridiculous th'one time I carried m'da's speah.  Then agin, I was only a leveret, so may'ap that 'ad somethin' t'do wi' it..."  She sighs, looking at him for a few seconds longer, then looks at his papers awkwardly and rubs her paws together.  "So!  Y' 'ave some int'restin' thoughts thah, Terrence.  I think they might do a lot o' 'elp f'r th'Patrol, should we be able t'do 'em."  She looks back at him and smiles.

With a bow of his head, Terrence smiles. "Thank you. I hope they'll help, too. As fo'h you feeling ridiculous as a leveret, well," He sticks out his paw holding it up to about half his hight, "When you'h that big, I daresay a speah might as well be a pike fo'h you!" He chuckles. "But back to business. I do want to start training the divisions as soon as we are able, if that's alright with you. And the majahs, of course..."

Felicity snorts.  "Aye, guess it was.  Although I was always tall f'r m'age."  She nods.  "Aye, soon as th'Majahs give us th'go, I wanna start.  I'll keep workin' wi' m'group 'til then.  An' Dom, o'course."  She stands and stretches, then tugs her sleeves back down to her wrists.  "Speakin' o' whom, I should go find 'im.  Get 'im tea, talk t' 'im a bit.  D'y' 'ave anythin' else y'needed t'add?"  She waits patiently, rocking back and forth to the balls of her feet then back to her heels, over and over.

There's a flash of something across Terrence's face, as if there is more he wants to say - but in the end the desire for professionalism wins out. "No, there isn't. Not for me, at least." He smiles for good measure. "Thanks for listening and giving feedback and all that, Felicity. But I do want to know, how is Dom coming along? I nevah got a cleah answer. He didn't threaten me last I saw him, so I assume he's at least fine...?" He seems unsure as he speaks.

Felicity nods at his gratitude, then sighs heavily, seeming to collapse a little into herself, looking very, very tired.  "Oh...I dunno, 'onestly.  Majah Varus thinks Dom's ready t'train Recruits, but I'm thinkin'.....I wanna give Dom more time, y'know?  But I dunno if I should tell th'Majah that."  She rubs her left eye, looking very much like her sister for a moment.  "I think 'e's makin' progress, I really do.  I just don't know 'ow much progress."  She looks him straight in the eye, all her worry coming to the surface.  "I'm not sure 'e's fine yet.  I 'ope 'e gets bettah all th'way soon.  I 'ate t'see m'friends sufferin' like this."  Sighing, she straightens up again, her mask of being all together and in control that she wears falling back into place.  "Well, I bettah go and find 'im.  Catch y'latah, Terrence.  Keep up th'good wohrk wi' y'ideas.  We needs that kind o' thinkin' 'ere."  She smiles and gives him a wave, then walks out the door to find Dom for tea time.


I play Atticus, John, Lossow, Terrence, and Spruce
The Long Patrol Landing Page!
Usually on the MUCK Saturdays + Monday & Wednesday evenings if I have the time
Fastest way to reach me is via my Discord: Luke_SkyOtter#1438

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