Foster stood there with a wry smile, but tried to ignore what Lynol just said, "...Right. Well... for now, I guess I'll just try and stand in the stance properly."
"Good." Lynol replied, with his ever-blank expression. And while Foster wasn't sure whether or not it was more effective to train like this, it was certainly a lot harder to do. A whole bunch of other muscles were being strained, when comparing this training to the kind he underwent before.
"Now, slowly start practicing your footwork. You don't need to go the same speed as you normally would, just try to be accurate." Lynol explained, "Circle around that rock over there, as if your target is standing there."
Slowly, Foster nodded his head. He concentrated on the footwork practice and soon saw scribbled lines extending forward and in circles around the rock, just like Lynol told him he should try and do. Foster carefully moved his feet forward, trying to keep his knees at the right angle and his hips at the intended rotation. This was pretty hard to do just regularly, but with this huge, heavy sword bound onto his back, it was even harder. At the very least Lynol said that he didn't have to go the same speed as normal.
"You are arching your back too much." Lynol instructed Foster. He slowly nodded his head in response, trying to straighten his back and shoulders. It felt like his spine was going to crack in half any moment now, though, so that wasn't really all too pleasant.
However, with some deep breaths and plenty of patience, Foster was able to get this done. For a good ten minutes, he did nothing but this one thing, circling around the rock while trying to keep up the proper motions. Lynol corrected his mistakes that he spotted according to the book, which Foster showed to him while keeping out the aspects about the legacy and the necromancy bits, simply showing him the pages that actually described the style's motions.
Soon, though, Lynol approached Foster with a waterskin and held it over to him, "You can take a break now. Your legs seem somewhat shaky."
"Urgh, you're right..." With a loud groan, Foster grabbed the waterskin and drank something, before dropping down onto the rock he had been circling around just earlier. He took a deep breath, and as he sat there in silence, collecting his thoughts, he heard someone approach.
"Yo~! What're you two doin' here?" Octer asked, clearly a lot more drunk than he was earlier. He was holding a bottle of liquor in his hand that Foster seemed to recognize from somewhere. He thought that they were only allowed to drink the beer and mead that they brought in those huge barrels, so why was Octer drinking something like that? At first he thought that Octer might have brought it himself, when Foster realized where exactly he had seen that bottle.
"Wait, that's one of our wares!" Foster exclaimed, "What the fuck are you doing drinking the merchandise of our employers, you absolute fucking idiot?" He jumped up without a moment's hesitation, locking eyes with Foster with a deep glare.
"Eh? They had... had dozens and dozens of these... No way they're gonna miss these, not like they were... were gonna be able to drink'em all alone anyway..." Octer pointed out, clearly overwhelmingly drunk right now, so much so that he wasn't thinking straight.
"Jesus Christ..." Foster groaned quietly, and swiftly pulled the bottle out of Octer's hand. It was practically empty at this point, "You absolute dumbass. Come on, we're going to George so that he can take the price for the bottle out of your pay. But you should be aware that this is probably one of the more expensive ones, so it's going to cost quite a bit."
"Why'd we do that, bitch..?" Octer asked, his whole body waving from left to right as he tried to lock eyes with Foster. Confused how a huge guy like him got so insanely drunk off this kind of thing, he took a quick whiff. And just smelling it a little nearly made all of his nose-hair fall out.
"What the fuck is this stuff, urgh..." He let out, but while Foster was concentrating on the alcohol, Octer seemed to be getting somewhat annoyed, "Oi, I'm talkin' to ya!" Octer practically yelled, trying to take the bottle away from Foster again.
But of course, he didn't let this drunk guy do something like that. With a deep sigh, Foster stepped to the side and grabbed Octer's wrist, rapidily pulling him forward while kicking away his legs. Just like that, Octer fell to the ground. It was always super easy to bring drunk people like this to the ground.
"You ready to come talk to George with me now?" Foster asked with a blank stare, not really wanting to deal with this whole thing right now. He turned his head over toward Lynol, who was curiously watching what was going on.
"And are you ready to help me the fuck out? He can't even stand on his own, let alone walk. Help me prop him up at least... and take this big ass sword away from me." Foster told Lynol with a wry smile. With a quick nod, he came over and took the blade away from Foster, which made him relax a little immediately. It literally took quite some weight off his shoulders. And so, the two of them quickly pulled Octer off the ground, and started to bring him back over to where the others were. All the whilst Octer was loudly groaning, talking about wanting to fight Foster and Lynol. And the two of them let him down right in front of George, who was still working this late into the night.
"Huh? What's wrong with him?" George asked, and Foster quickly held the bottle of liquor that Octer drank from in front of him.
"...How long has it been since he drank this?" Nervously, George grabbed the bottle from Foster, seeing that it was completely empty now. Foster shrugged, "At most 15 minutes?"
"Shit... Quick, we need to get him to throw up, now." Immediately, George pulled Octer away from Foster and Lynol, and turned toward one of the employees in a hurry, "You, go ask around the adventurers if any of their magic-users know 'Detoxification', immediately."
"Detoxi- Wait, what's going on?" Foster asked confused, and George started to explain while he stuffed his hand down Octer's throat, while this big guy was just laying there already nearly unconscious.
"This? This is Dwarven Spirit. It's... a special brew. Don't know how it's made, don't care either, but it's both expensive and can get a grown man go from sober to drunk within a single shot." George explained. Meanwhile, Foster took a step back to make sure Octer's throw-up didn't get on his shoes, "Wait, seriously? It did smell kind of strong..." Foster groaned, as suddenly a mage ran up from the side, "I know 'Detoxification', what's going on?" She asked, and George explained the situation. He laid Octer down onto his back, before the mage seemed to cast a spell on him.
"This is going to take a while. Thanks for bringing him here, you two." Still helping Octer throw the rest of the alcohol up before his body continued processing it, "But honestly, why'd he have to drink something this expensive? He could've just kept drinking that damn mead."
"..." Foster looked at Octer as he was laying there unconscious, and listened to George complain about losing wares while his hand was half inside of Octer's throat. That wasn't something that you saw every day, of course, but it also sadly wasn't the first time that Foster saw something exactly like this happen... Some of the other executives were really straightforward sometimes.
"Erm, we'll just head back for now... Let us know if you need any help." Foster said with a wry smile, and swiftly turned around and made his way back to where him and Lynol had been training earlier.