"You sure about this?" Cináed mutters under his breath to Reynhard, very quietly. 

"I'm sure it will make him significantly less concerned about us killing Iomedae," Reynhard whispers back, just as quietly. 

"You should say 'Good' if you're dead, ideally," Cináed calls over to Robert. "Otherwise she's going to think you're not dead yet."

(And then she might just keep hitting him.)

"All right, good."

(She's not going to keep hitting him because he doesn't know what word to say! He's never held a sword before! What would he learn from that?)

She will instead copy one of Lucy's moves to hit him again.

"Ow! - point to you again, kiddo, but can you hit a little lighter than that? I'm past my sporting prime."

Why is he having so much trouble with the instruction to say 'good'. She should in fact be careful to hit him more lightly, though. "Yes sir."

Again? But gently?

"Good, good." He is suddenly wondering why in the hell Martin went after a girl who carried a sword.

(Well, he came up behind her and tried to choke her, which is a pretty reasonable thing to try to do if you don't have a sword and your opponent does. His tactical choices were all right, all things considered, though his strategic ones were poor.)

Iomedae is not at all willing to let him get any hits in, so it's just kind of a slog of getting hit repeatedly until he no longer feels it would be unsporting to call it quits. 

"She's quite the remarkable talent," Reynhard offers as he reaches out a hand to help Robert unsling the heavy shield from his arm. He's got a red plastic Solo cup full of water, ready for whenever Robert can get his helmet off. "Hope that wasn't too frustrating? She's good, but at her age, not quite experienced enough yet to know when she should take it easy - that'll come with age, and time in helmet."

Cináed has several pointers to go over with Iomedae after watching her beat up her foster father! He figures he can save the delicate points about going easy on people for after they've established a rapport, so he starts by showing her how to fix her return so that she won't end up with tennis elbow after a few months. 

- right, because no one can get any healing. Iomedae will try to adjust her swing in case Aroden's doing that for some reason and won't fix it on request. "Thank you, sir."

"Oh! I'm not a sir. I'm just Cináed."

(He's a Lord, but he's absolutely not about to tell a newbie that at practice, that'll just scare them off.)

There is probably nobody left for Iomedae to fight if her parents won't let her fight adult men. "If you want to take your armour off and check out the crafts, I can help you find a bag to keep everything in, or if you just want to hit a fence post for a bit that's fine too!" 

"I don't know crafts."

Rather than explaining, Cináed will gesture to the corner of the field where people are gathered around folding tables sewing and discussing the arts and sciences. "We do all sorts of arts and sciences in the Society - I do some fabric arts. I made everything I'm wearing!"

It is not strictly true that he made everything he's wearing. He is wearing modern shoes (covered by some period fabric covers), though he's doing his best to fix that. There's a few things his long-distance girlfriend made him, too - like the pendant tucked underneath his shirt - but he wears those covered underneath his clothes, so it's definitely true that Cináed made himself everything Iomedae can see. 

“America has -“ she doesn’t know the words. But in America fabric is cheap and so there must be magic for it, as in ancient Azlant. Iomedae knows how to sew but she has no desire to spend precious swording time on chores. “I rather sword more please?”

"I don't know if you can fight more people right now? If your guardian is only giving you permission to fight, uh, women and other young people - we do have another youth fighter but he's not here right now so you might be out of luck. Of course you're welcome to hit the pell as much as you like." 

"Thank you." Iomedae has learned lots of new moves today and is perfectly happy to spend a while trying them on a fencepost. She would rather fight everybody here but she is not going to argue with Robert and Jenny, who are in the service of Heaven even if Iomedae misses being a free person quite badly. Maybe she can take her feelings about foster care out on the fencepost.

"Let me know if you change your mind, I will do my best to introduce you to everyone!"

And Cináed will head off to fight some other people. 

Some of the other Atlantians wander over to Iomedae to correct her technique, or offer to introduce her to various people, or ask her if she wants to learn crafts, or offer to share free food with her. But once it becomes obvious that she really just wants to murder a fence post, they are mostly willing to leave her alone to murder a fence post. 

Well, she definitely wants to murder it with correct technique! She will happily accept technique corrections!

(She is...more emotional than she expected to be, at finding an order, at having a sword in her hand again, at meeting people who are good at fighting like she wants to be. The thing is that it could still all be taken away, because she is a slave. She has it, but she doesn't, and there are still half a dozen misunderstandings between her and everyone here, and why isn't Aroden sending these people priests, they certainly need them, and -)

Lucy fights until she is almost too tired to stand, and then she sits down briefly to get some water, and then she stands up and fights a bit more, and then she finally decides she's done. By this point most of the older folks are standing around chatting, and some people have suggested a group expedition to Waffle House, and a couple bards have broken out a new song they're working on teaching people.

At this point she wants her armour off, but she has a personal rule about being the first in armour and the last out of armour, and she is not about to break that rule because the literal first-day newbie is still doggedly battering the pell. And not mindlessly, either; Iomedae looks like she's genuinely determinedly working to teach her arm the new things that she just watched Lucy and Nicole do to her. She seems like she wants to learn and she's not about to be put off by minor barriers like being in foster care or not being allowed to fight anyone which would really be widely considered understandable things to be put off by. 

Lucy likes this newbie.

There's maybe a kindred spirit over there, and she's really... needed one of those for a while. It's so much harder to be the way she is when everyone's telling her she's a strange outlier for it and implying that it would be very understandable (and perhaps more normal) if she stopped. Selfishly, Lucy hopes everyone starts being concerned about the newbie instead of concerned about her so they'll get off her ass, but.... nope that's an unworthy thought and she pushes it away. Everyone will do their duty as they understand it, and she ought to do her best to understand them. 

"Hey, Iomedae - I think practice is ending soon so they might start wanting you to get out of armour? No rush, but you'd probably be welcome to join us, if you wanted to come to Waffle House with everyone."

It would be dishonourable to get Iomedae to get out of armour just so that she can get out of armour herself without breaking her rules, so she adds, "I think we still have.... maybe a few minutes... if you wanted to fight again."

Lucia is visibly drooping like a wilting flower. Sweat plasters her hair to her forehead and a few drops of it have fallen from her forehead and made it onto her tabard. She smells like a dead rat, with subtle hints of pigsty and notes of chemical warfare. One of her pauldrons has been duct-taped back on after the leather strap failed. She is not lying about being willing to fight again, but the bright smile on her face and the fierce light in her eyes are not matching up to the rest of her body language at all. 

Iomedae does want to fight again, very badly, but beating Lucy just because Lucy is too tired to hold a sword wouldn't really be the most honorable way to end her first practice. "I do not know if Jenny want me go to Waffle House," she says, reluctantly turning her back on the fencepost. "You wanted talk about Martin who I sworded?"