Malahir:
        Immediately, you are captured by the honest brown eyes of a young man, who is scantly an adult. There is inner solace in his eyes, which almond shape and youthful glint, show to the viewer his true emotion. Framing his amiable round face are wild brown curls that extend down to his broad shoulders. His smooth face is clean shaven, but not by choice. His leather tanned skin displays the strength he bears in his arms. On his left forearm is a nasty scar, and if he is not wearing his armor, another long scare can be seen on his right shoulder. His impressive stature measures six feet, one inch and he weighs in excess of 210 lbs. Although he has a well toned muscularture and broad frame, he sports a slightly convex belly.
        He appears to blend in with a moonless night. He wears a black tabard emblazened with the city crest of Minas Tirith: the white tree and seven stars, in silver embroidary. He is robed in a long black satin cloak. On the left lapel is a silver brooch of a ship, and on the right part of the cloak, above his heart is a crest of white and blue, with a sword and two horses rearing to meet at the center. Loose black pants are tucked into black boots and a broad black leather belt slims down the tabard at the waist. A silver buckle, also with the etching of a ship, hangs dead center. His black helm is winged at the crown with long cheeck guards, close fitting to the face. Lazily, his sheath hangs below his waist, where the gold pommel of his sword sticks out from his cloak by his hip. Occasionally, he brandishes an antique wooden cane, the handle being carved into a falcon's head. But while on duty, he grips a small leather buckler that proudly displays the crest of purple and gold, three wreaths, a sigil of his ancient family line. Adding to his massy bulk are the heavy chain mail bodice he wears under the tabard. The metalic links of his armor show little wear, but his leather buckler shows signs of numerous survived battles. His sword his well polished and the gold gleams from a half hidden sheath.

Nials:
 Looking at the young man standing before you, you see a tall man standing close to six feet in height. His hair is long, thought not so long that it goes below his the mid section of his back, and a rich, vibrant shade of dark chesnut. His long hair flows over his dark emerald eyes hiding them behind a chesnut colored veil. Though young in years, you can tell by the seriousness in his gaze that he has seen some troubled times in his life. With a slender nose and thin pale lips, his face is a mask, covering the deep emotions that lie deep beneath the surface only to be shown through the emerald orbs that are his eyes. There is a perpetual look of wariness present on this mask of his, as if he trust no one. Below his head, his body appears to be fit and somewhat muscular, not overly burly, but with just enough muscle to be considered physically fit. He carries himself with a somewhat casual manner, but never looks really comfortable in any given situation.
        From his upper torso hangs the talbard of the Men-at-Arms of Gondor bearing the White Tree of Gondor on it. Under his guardsmen's talbard you can see his worn studded leather armor with the left should bare depicting his rank to be that of a private. Belting his talbard at the waist is a broad, black leather belt with a shiny silver buckle. Also hanging from his belt on his left side is a longsword with a silver hilt and silver bound black leather handle, on his right side is a simple black leather pouch used to carry both his money and other valuable things. His White Tree emblazoned talbard covers the top of his black leather pants, his pants end tucked into his high black boots. The only adornment on his body is a simple silver chain with a small medallion with a symbol engraved into it. This symbol appears to be a wolf with a rose in it's mouth.

Analdin:
        With his relatively short, boyishly cut blond hair, a twinkle in his eyes, and an entire six feet, this young man seems to almost blend into any group of boys that could be playing in the street. However, upon closer inspection, the glacier cool look behind those ocean-deep blue eyes and the straight posture show him to be no child, but a man of some responsibility. An air of strength, mental as well as physical, shines about him. His hands, when they can be seen, are rough and hard from work, and his muscles are far more than slight.
        The uniform of the Minas Tirith Guard seems to go quite well with his features, giving him a more mature look than most might see at first. The black tabard with the emblem of Minas Tirith upon it, the Tree embriodered on the breast in silver, the dark trousers tucked into black, polished-to-a-shine boots, all of it adds to the feeling of responsibility about him. Upon his shoulder can be seen company insignia, the Silver Ship set against the Gates of Minas Tirith. Bars of rank also adorn his uniform, Lieutenant's bars, and company commander's. A well cared for longsword hangs from his side at most times, and a shining helm with raven's wings sweeping back oftimes covers his head.
        His posture is that of a trained soldier, though rather friendly for it. Even though black is the dominant color in his clothing, his light, almost Rohirric features give him no appearance of darkness. An air of purpose surrounds him like a light mist.

Analdin stands in the midst of the training grounds, walking up and down the ranks of practicing guardsmen. Every so often he gives an approving nod to one or another of them, all either polishing their blades near the edges, sparring with the blunted practice swords, or those with more expertise, with their swords, axes, spears, and other weapons. The Lieutenant's dark eyes watch the soldiers in thier training, and more than a few sharp reprimands are given to the more careless of the men.

Walking into the Training Grounds, Nials and Malahir stand at the gates for a moment and look for an empty spot in which they might practice with each other. Finally spotting one Mal leads the way to a spot towards the eastern wall. Following him, Nials looks around at the training guardsmen and see Analdin inspecting all and pointing out faulty moves in their combat techniques. Upon reaching their spot, Nials begins to strech and looks to Coren who for some odd reason followed them into the Training Grounds. Looking to Mal with a mischievous look in his eyes, "So shall we start, or take a moment to limber up."

Malahir removes his longsword from his scabbard, jestfully taking some swipes in midair. Breathing deeply he replies to the guardsmen, "Nials, it would be my pleasure to begin, I think my body will not get any limber under it's present condition. However, I will ask a question of you", peering at him and his wolf, "Do you wish to use our true blades, or play with the blunted pieces that the other recruits use?".

Analdin continues his examination of the men, grim faced. Many straighten as he approaches, and those not practicing or sparring salute sharply. The young officer, however, rarely acknowledges the few quick greetings thrown his way, attention intent upon the training of his soldiers. As his path leads him in Nials and Malahir's general direction, he pauses, standing a good way away, watching them more closely.

Nials stops to think for a moment, "It would seem to me that in using the blunted practice swords would only make us better a fighting with them." he says somewhat unsure of himself. "But I also fear that should we use the real ones, being as clumsy as I am, someone would get unnessisarily hurt." Still thinking to himself, he looks around and sees the Lt. walking there way, then watches him stop and watch them. "I say that we use the practice swords till we are more sure of ourselves." he states finally.

Malahir smiles wryly, having left the decission to the younger guard, he grant him that bit of cautiousness, "As you wish man-at-arms Nials. A fair choose, we shall bite the air with the blunted swords, like a ship bow through an iceberg then", turning toward the stockpile of training weapons he notices his lieutenant and salutes swiftly. "What shall it be, I shall retreave a weapon for you", he calls out from a distance to Nials.

Nials seeing Mal salute the Lt., Nials also turns and salutes, then looking back in the direction of the weapons stockpile he shouts, "Something resembling a longsword."

Analdin aknowledges Malahir's salute with a tight nod, remaining generally silent, eyes roaming over the whole of the grounds. At Nials's, he alsop gives a nod, and takes a few steps closer to the guardsman as the Corporal runs to get the equiptment. "Nials," he says in his soft tone, "Who allowed youto bring that animal into the city?" A rather blunt question though it is, he asks with quiet warning.

Somewhat taken aback by the question, Nials replies, "Sir, Coren stay at my side no matter where I go, I have no more controll over what he does than him having control over what I do." he explains. "I didn't have any problems with the guards at the gate, so I assumed that there was no problem with having an animal in the city." Then looks to Coren, "You seem to have gotten me in trouble my friend."

Malahir chuckles lightheartedly at the request of a blunt weapon resembling a longsword as gust of wind taking blowing his long wavy curls about his shoulders. He bends to pick two equal wooden longswords, tossing them in his hands to decide upon the wieght. Walking back toward Nials and Analdin, he frowns, sensing there is something the matter.

The sun slowly rises in the sky, spreading its brilliant light upon Gondor.

Elidran steps into the center, hand on the pommel of his sword. He salutes towards Malahir and Analdin.

Analdin nods slowly, a frown spreading over his face as he does so, "Nials..." he begins once more, "I suppose you have not been long in the Guard, but I should think by now that you would know the city's rules concerning animals. None, not even horses, save those on the buisness of the Lord Steward, are to be allowed within the city gates." he ignores the approaching guardsmen a while as he keeps his attention as well as his heavy gaze on Nials.

Nials nods in understanding, "forgive me, sir, I seem to stay in trouble." Looking to his friend, "Coren, you must leave the city." Looking back to Analdin, "Again, forgive me."

Coren stamps his feet to loosen the dirt as he steps onto the street.
Coren has left.

Malahir greets his fellow silver shipper Elidran with a grin, as he weighs the blunted weapons some more during the disciplining of his sparring partner.

With a pant of understanding, the silver wolf hound rises to all fours and makes his way to the street.

Analdin tilts his head slightly, "I would allow you to keep your pet in the barracks," he comments, "Were it not such strict city regulations. Continue on with your practicing," he adds, a hint of a smile replacing the frown on his face. Taking a step back, he gives Malahir a quiet smile, and greets Elidran with a nod.

Malahir returns Analdin's smile, giving him a notion by swiping his forehead that his blonde bangs continue to fall into his eyes. Turning back to Nials and Elidran, he bows, "Shall we continue with our lesson? Elidran, do you have a partner today?".

Elidran smiles, "I have none, but if anyone is willing, I am certainly up for some training this fine day."

Walking to Mal and taking the practice sword from him, "Yes Elidran, if you need a partner, feel free to join us." Then swinging the sword for a feel of the weight and balance, he looks back to Analdin, "Will you be watching us today, Sir?"

Moving his hand to the hilt of the practice sword in his hands, the one he usually holds in the training area, he nods quietly to Nials, replying to his question. Yet, turning to Elidran, "If you would like, Elidran, I could give you a lesson myself."

Malahir looks around the clear dawn sky, and it being spring, still quite light out. "It is indeed, you could join us, I was about to spar with a white tree comrade of ours. But you could give us some a third perspective, and grant us your view on the positioning of our stances", swinging his own blunted weapon in a slight hint of disgust with the cumbersome object. Overhearing his lieutenant speak, he bows, "Or shall we dance? Perhaps with our true swords?".

Still testing the clumsy practice sword, finally putting it down in digust, "Would you mind a quick change of mind" he says placing his hand suggestively on his own sword handle.

Elidran raiseshis sword, nodding to Analdin quietly, "I would appreciate a lesson, sir."

Analdin nods quietly, laying down the well-crafted yet blunted wooden sword, and grabs hold of the hilt of the one positioned in its sheath. Drawing it with the sharp sound of metal slicing air, he holds it with a small smile, talking a number of steps from Malahir and Nials, "Then we shall begin." Taking up a smooth stance and holding his sword like an extension of his arm, he adds, "Hold before we begin. I wish to see your positioning."

Malahir nods to all present, and steps back a pace, leaving his blunted weapon on a trainers' table, he puts his hand on the pommel on his sword, "Aye, we could tone it down, half speed perhaps", withdrawing his sword and settling into his defensive stance, his sword at midlength and body squat and squared.

Elidran steps towards Analdin, and takes up position, shield held up to his side, his left foot forward, his sword arm extended and ready. He waits for his Lieutenant's approval.

Malahir has disconnected.

After a short yet thorough examination of Elidran's position, nodding with slight approval. "Hold your shield a tad lower," he remarks at one point, quietly, "And try to keep your sword up higher. The more room you have to manouver, yet keep your own self covered, the more damage you can do your enemy." That said, he once again takes up his own stance, one foot slightly ahead of the other and sword raised. Shieldless he stands, yet confidently, ready for the attack. He gives a quick nod, motioning for Elidran to attack.

Seeing his training partner draw his sword and take a fighting stance, Nials reaches down and draws his own blade. Doing his best to judge the position of his opponent, Nials takes a stance with the hilt of his sword held close to his body and the point down low. Watching Mal, both his hands and his blade, Nials waits.

Elidran bobs his head alertly to Analdin, raising his sword and lowering his shield a smidgeon in opposite directions. With a swift forward motion, he lashes out sideways at Analdin.

Lowering his sword, corporal Malahir speaks to his training partner, "It is best if you attack me sir. I can summize from your close positioning of your sword that you limit your capacity to defend yourself", raising his sword when he is finished with his instructions, as he cirles around by side stepping toward Nials left.

Analdin easily avoids the slash, bringing his sword around and into position with a quickness almost suprising for this young man. The sound of two swords clashing fills the air for a moment as he parries the blow. Eyes quietly moving, watching only Elidran and his movements, as well as the swords, he brings his own blade about in an arc towards Elidran's shoulder, twising it upon it's approach so that the flat, not the blade, would hit the other man.

Nials nodding at the instructions from the corporal, then moving to his sword further away from him. With what was supposed to be a quick motion, Nials brings his sword up and and trys to make an overhead blow at the waiting corporal.

Elidran ducks the flat of the blade, though only barely, neatly sidestepping so he is not hit. He brings his blade upwards to slap at Analdin's side.

Analdin twists away from the guardsman's slap, taking a smooth step back to avoid the blade. He gives a quiet nod at Elidran's tactic, though he comments, "Be careful with that move, Elidran, as it may well bring your head off if your enemy is using the point, or the edge, of his blade." With that, and with the momentum he has gained from his step, he lunges forward, directly at Elidran's chest with the very point of his steel.

Elidran can't help loosing a yelp as Analdin lunges directly at him, and instinctively raises his shield to block the blow, stepping back while thrusting his arm forward.

Malahir shows a swift smile at the guard, as his instructions take weight. With a strong movement upward with his right arm, he effectly blocks and holds Nials ' sword in mid air above them. Twisting his body around, he uses his left arm to bear on the guards chest and pushes him away. Nodding suggestively he pants, "that was way to high of an arch, try to bring it in quicker", continueing to be at the ready for the soldiers next attack.

Once again nodding at the careful instructions, Nials brings his sword back to a ready position. Stepping quickly to his right, then once again trying the overhead swipe, this time with more speed and a much lower arc.

The point of Analdin's blade barely glances off Elidran's upraised shield, the scraping of the metal on the leather of the shield somehat grating. "And keep that shield at the ready," he adds to his previous instructions, eyes shining brightly. "Other than that, good footwork. Be ready, and light enough on your feet as you can, to move at a moment's notice." Recouperating from his thrust, having to almost akwardly withdraw his sword, he waits with sword raised for Elidran's next attack.

Elidran nods to Analdin's instructions, his eyes narrowed with thought. He aborbs what he's told, learns from it. And abruptly, he slashes at Analdin's chest.

Malahir starts his upward swing early, anticipating the guards next attempt. The tip of his sword rings off the body of Nials' blade, diverting the blade high and wide, twisting his forearm and bringing his own blade back toward his sparing partner, Malahir swipes at midlength with the blunt of his sword.

Analdin makes an attempt at bringing his sword up to block the blow to his chest, but the sword, well as he handles it, does not make it quite fast enough. Shieldless, the lieutenant resorts to a step back, yet his reaction time is slowed in paying close attention to the guardsman's stance and position. With a small, approving smile, he nods, glancing down at the small tear in his talbard, bright chain mail shining through. Bringing his gaze quickly back up, he makes a feint at the other's midsection, though brings his sword down quickly for a slash at his legs.

Elidran looks absurdly pleased with himself at having slashed the lieutenant harmlessly. He is nearly caught off guard, however, and his own shirt is slashed as he ducks back away from Analdin, nearly caught by his blade as Analdin slashes at Elidrans' legs.

The approval in Analdin's eyes turns just as quickly to disapproval, and a hint of a frown touches his face where the smile had been moments ago. "Attention, Elidran!" he snaps, "Keep your attenion on the battle." Drawing his own blade in, bringing it up to an at-the-ready position and moving his feet back into their normal patient stance, one foot slightly ahead of the other and both spread to give balance, he waits.

Seeing the blow coming for his midsection, a look of terror fills the young gaurdsman's eyes. Quickly jumping back as far as he can, He barely misses the blade and throws himself widely off balance. Grunting at being scared of a memory, a look of anger fills his eyes directed at himself not at the corporal. Quickly regaining his footing, Nials reverses his backwards momentum just as the blade passes in front of his midsection. Seeing the sword continue it's movement, he makes a running jab at the Corporals left midsection.

Elidran smiles apologetically at Analdin, but doesn't get time to voice an apology as he takes up the proper position again, and stabs lightly at Analdin's midsection, regaining his composure.

Analdin shakes his head slowly, easily bringing his own blade up to parry the stab, or at the least to throw it off its intended course. As the swords meet, metal clashing fills the air and joins with so many others as the many guardsmen training also tend to clash often. With that same momentum that allowed him to stave off the attack, he makes a swing for the guardsman's side, twisting his blade so the flat faces the other man.

Elidran grunts, lifting his sword for another swing at Analdin, bringing up his shield arm tucked to his side instinctively, blocking the slash.

Turning his concentration into a grin as he admired the lightning quick guard avoid his strike, he has just enough time to add, "Very agile I see..", before the corporal must defend himself again. Bringing forth the professional skills that he has honed, Malahir bashes down the oncoming sword, placing his booted foot on the blunted end, ancoring it to the ground. Tilting his head couriously, he asks in a tired fasion, "Why do you strike me with such vengence?".

Nials backs off and looks to the Corporal, "Forgive me sir," he says somewhat ashamed of himself, "I don't strike so at you, but I did it out of anger at a memory." Then reading himself again, "I was almost killed by a blow similar to that one, except that time I didn't jump back far enough."

As his sword is well blocked by the other's shield, Analdin nods quietly, though gives no words of advise, for he has no time to speak before Elidran's blade comes swinging in his direction. With a light duck and a twist of his middle, he pulls his sword about to block, though barely rolls out from the swing with a small tear in his shoulder. "Good." is all he says, a tad breathless as well it would seem, as he contiues bringing his sword down and around in the general direction of Elidran's calves.

Elidran steps lightly back, dodging Analdin's low sweeping motion of his sword, and slashes at the man's chest abruptly, with the flat of his blade.

Analdin, with a flick of his wrist, brings the sword up in time to block the slash at his chest, though it does nothing more than drive the other's blade away and off to the side. Nodding. he lowers his sword, holding up his other hand. "Pease, Elidran," he says quietly, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth and shining brightly in his eyes, "'Tis enough for one morning. You did well, though would do better in remembering to keep your attention never wavering from your opponent's blade."

The corporal, not overally berating the guard, placing his free arm on the mans shoulder. Releasing his foot from his downed sword, he nods knowingly, "You do not anger me young Nials, I was curious and also wary of your anger. Do not let your fear cloud your mind. I shall show you something..". Malahir replaces his sword in his scabbard and releases his belt from his baggy black pants. Throwing aside his tabard and untucking his undershirt, he reveals his overstuffed belly. Diaganally across of which is a puffy slash scare. A foot long, and as wide as a blade is thick. looking down , with his chin at his chest, malahir mutters, "I too have had such fears. This nearly took my life a year ago".

Nials looking at the scar that is looked so similar to his, "Then we are brother bound by more than loyalty." Then placing his blade once again in it scabard, and removes his talbard and shirt reavealing a jagged scar that runs across his mid section.

Elidran is breathing hard as he steps back away from Analdin, "Aye sir. T hank you, I feel that was most instructive!"

Malahir gazes at the scar profitically, "Indeed, we are brethren, and you should know that the brotherhood of the guard will see you through your fear. As it has done for me. For, it is one thing to be agile in body, but another to be agile of wit", sighing deeply, "shall we retire, the day grows long".

Analdin gives a quiet nod, glancing up at the entrance to the training ground, "I hope it was, Elidran," he says, "But, as for now, I have a meeting to attend." With that, and a nod of farewell to Malahir and Nials, he sheathes his sword and heads on up and out of the training grounds.

Elidran bobs his head, "Take care, sir. And thank you again!"