It had started to snow once more in Frostfire, as was often the places wont. Thick drifts had begun to pile up in the early morning hours of the Fortress, well after most of the mercenaries that lived there had either drunk themselves into a stupor but before a large majority of them has found themselves awakening to begin their morning duties. In fact, the only folk that were definitively awake were the ones that patrolled the towers of the outpost, keeping a vigilant eye out to ensure that not a single soul would make it into the series of buildings unspotted. Them, and the two that were causing a clamor within one of the training yards along the edge of the region. The sound of steel on steel rang out repeatedly, and violently. Those without recognition of the sounds would have easily assumed that it was two men attempting to kill one another, and perhaps they were actually right. Hintiel didn't have time to think about how it would sound to the rest of the world however as his training partner rushed at him, glowing dual-blades gleaming a frozen blue amongst the snow and ice. Quick as always from the Death Knight, but just as predictable. Hintiel slammed his shield and his weight to one side, parrying away one of the blades and forcing himself to the side of the vertical slash of the other. He felt the weight of his shield shift in his hand as he pushed himself forward.
His blade was parried away from the dwarf the moment it struck steel, Maurin had predicted the strike before Hintiel even knew he was going to swing it. The little bastard had, infuriatingly, grown harder and harder for Hintiel to hit even as every other opponent had grown easier. It was always a matter of prediction and timing against the dwarf, and in those regards Maurin had him both beaten due to years more of experience. Hintiel knew what to expect the moment his blade was out of position and he quickly relaxed his stomach before a weight of steel slammed upwards into it. A stagger and a 'crack' from a rib later and Maurin was immediately on him, the dwarf's weight bulled him over onto his back and the pommel of the man's blade met his jaw. "Ya fahkin' idiot, lad!" Maurin yelled as he smacked him once more with his pommel. "Ya keep doin' the same shite, over an' over again! Ya're gonna get yerself killed wit' it!"
The memory hit Hintiel and bounced off his mind, as his memories often did, as he stepped forward and from his shorter stature in regards to the Death Knight, slammed his shield right into the man's ribs. There would be no hesitation of air being knocked from the dead man, Hintiel knew that as much, but he would stagger just the same. And the moment he heard the tell-tale of snow crunching behind his opponent's left foot he stepped forward once more and bulled right into the man with all his weight. Heat overtook him as he heard the man's back strike the ground, a fury welled within him and he felt his hand clench white-knuckled about the axe in his right hand. He felt his rage well up into him as he stepped over the Death Knight, and rose his axe.
"The way I see it, lad. Ya got two big strengths." Maurin said one of the nights after they had set up camp. He spoke between bites of some kind of jerky and swigs from his flask. The flickering light of the fire kept the ice and cold away. "Ya got yer rage an' yer kindness. Which, weird pair o' strengths to 'ave in someone. But there it is."
"Father always said tha' my kindness was a weakness." Hintiel spoke as he took a shot from his own flask, his cloak draped about him to keep the cold out as he stared across the fire at his mentor.
"Men like yer Father 'ave their heads so far up their own arses about bein' 'proper' or 'intimidatin' tha' they forget wha' real power is." Maurin scoffed, Hintiel might've found offense in that a year ago. Anymore, he just nodded in agreement and listened as the man continued to speak. "'Tis like this, lad. Yer rage is gunpowder. Yer fury, it'll explode outwards an' destroy anythin' tha' gets in its way. It's destructive, strong an' dangerous. Thunder an' blood. But ya bein' kind? Tha's where power comes in for ya. Yer kindness is more akin to a campfire, or a hearth of sorts. Ya will warm those 'round ya. Bring 'em in to ya. And in doin' so they'll become loyal. Ya will 'ave folk that'll die for ya, an' tha' righ' there is true power, Lad. It ain't the gunpowder that'll burn and destroy, tha's fleetin' an' oft as not will end ya up alone an' miserable. Power is controlled heat, kindness an' warmth."
Maurin chortled as he took a bite of jerky. "But wha' the fahk do I know 'bout power, hm?"
Hintiel's axe slammed into the snow and ice next to Fairion's head. He stared down at the armored Death Knight before he held his hand out to his training partner, and upon getting a grip of the icy-palm of his Legionnaire, helped him to his feet. "You're predictable, Fairion."
"Am I?" Fairion asked as he stamped his boots into the snow. "I suppose I ought to have known that. I am, afterall a giant block of ice. We are not known for our ability to move in ways one does not expect."
Hintiel chuckled at that as he brushed snow off of Fairion's cloak. "Perhaps ya oughta learn some, before ya get to meet a true death, eh?"
Fairion shrugged as he glanced over his shoulder at Hintiel ."If that is what you would ask of me, Grandmaster."
Hintiel gave a nod as he reached down and pulled the axe from the snow. "Aye. Try movin' wit' less focus on yer right side this time. C'mon, draw steel and let's go 'gain."