OoC: You two are very odd. Food is the first thing you think of? JK.

BiC: Kichaa stood with a book in one hand, the other keeping his place on the runes he had recently started reading. The book in his hand was a large, leatherbound book that translated the ancient tongue, the language written on the marble walls. Kichaa had discovered a few days ago that the writings on the wall detailed the old styles, as well as the method in which one could train themselves in them

Stepping back from the wall, Kichaa set the book down on the green, velvet-like floor and began taking advantage of his surprisingly large room. Step left, strike down... he began to repeat in his mind, concentrating on a single strike at a time, then moving on to the next.

Within a half hour of training Kichaa realized why the Ancient Masters were called masters. To not only master these styles, but to invent them would take a level of fitness that Kichaa was nowhere near, as was obvious from the sweat dripping down his body.

"I need water," he said breathlessly, sheating his sword and already heading out the door of his room. He couldn't even imagine what the two large warriors that passed him on his way to the kitchen thought of him, but they didn't seem to notice him much. He found a pitcher of cold water and a goblet, pouring himself an abundant quantity before sitting down at the table, slightly sad that the others had left. He could use the company.

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[Graphics by Me.]

[The signature links to Aleksandr Sokoll.]
["I believe in sleeping." ~ Bruce Lee]