As Alban was walking off into the moonlight, he was engrossed by his thoughts. His fingers traced over his neck tattoo, the conversation he had with Nimral lingering in the forefront of his mind. The grey trees bobbed and waved their twigs, the purple leaves wiggling in unison. An untold, heavy rhythm oozed into Alban's spirit, the gentle rises and falls stirring his blood.
Until it stopped. The reason for this was neither supernatural nor the precursor to an attack at it would normally seem to be. No it was because Alban forgot something very simple.
'Shit, I don't have anywhere to sleep tonight! I don't know if I'll be able to get some peace in the forest...' He wandered back towards the insides of the village Nimrod, unaware that his body could handle sleeping in a forest just fine.
—-
"Hey, old man! Wait up!" Nimral didn't expect Alban to just randomly start searching for him after the talk they just had. Maybe the boy wanted to use training to distract the thoughts plaguing his mind? Nimral could understand and even empathize with it, he was exactly the same-
"I don't have anywhere to sleep, so if you're gonna train me you have to provide me lodging."
...way? 'Never mind...he's a bit more eccentric than I.' A slight chuckle made itself known to the air, before Nimral's face rapidly formed into a deep frown.
"Snot-nosed brat, my name is Nimral!"
Alban was not impressed. He peered up at the massive, muscle bound old man expectantly, as if what he said was not a student addressing their future teacher, but an emperor commanding their officials. He even imagined Nimral in a robe, laughing a bit. That's when he heard the sound of knuckles cracking.
Before he could even consider how fast he had to move to escape the bulky nimm, his head was caught by Nimral's mitts. The man's fingers bore deep into Alban's skull, before he was hoisted up and flipped upside down. "I'll give you somewhere you can sleep alright...nighty night!"
—-
Nimra opened her eyes to a dark and red moonlight beaming through her windows. She had scurried all the way back to her house and locked the door to her room from the...awkwardness of last night. She took in the sight of pillows pushed all over the floor, avoiding them like they were the plague. The cushy, firm feeling reminded her way too much of-no, she wouldn't even think of it! Regaining her cheerful excitement, she opened the door and welcomed a beautiful "morning".
She took her time to change out of her pajamas before a loud growl was felt by both her ears and her stomach. She remembered that she didn't get anything to eat last night, which was quite a shame since the festival food was so good it was one of the sole things she looked forward to. Nimra almost wanted to cry, before maybe considering that her meathead father might have stored away some food as a protein supplement later! She quickly changed into a plain black sleeveless shirt and shorts that stretched a bit past get knees.
She walked out of her room, a loud din coming from downstairs where the kitchen was situated. She was used to such a sound, and found it to be a normal day. If anything was odd, it was that it seemed a bit too early for her dad to go on a meat binge. He usually kept that for lunch...? Strolling down the stairs, that's when she saw something she shouldn't have.
Alban's mouth was wrapped around a bone, his teeth crunching through it with relative ease. These bones weren't soft bones at all, in fact, the perpetrator of that loud noise Nimra had heard was him munching on the bones unabashedly. Sure, the grisly crunch would have been frightening enough but...the main problem was that it came from HIM.
Nimra's face blanked for a bit while Alban was wondering what she was staring at him for. Was it something on his face? Was she still scared of him about yesterday in the woods? He had reflected on it and found it reasonable that she would be scared, so he was about to apologize when...
"AAAAAA-" ...he was met by her back dashing up the stairs so face he wondered if she was a tr*nsf*rmer entering her car mode. 'Am I really that scary? I'll be nicer from now on...' Quickly finishing his bone, he walked out of the cozy house's door and squatted almost directly in front of it.
He didn't wait long, Nimral keeping his promise to get to work 'dim and early'. "Get up," the brawny old nimm said. Alban complied quickly, already having complete his quests for the day and ready to get some extensive training.
"So, whatcha gonna teach me? Killing moves? Elements? Maybe even a...mouth beam?" Alban's voice contained a hint of mockery, wondering if the old man could even use magic. Nimral looked like the heaviest of heavy weights, his mana must be for smacking things around using his natural assets. Or so Alban thought.
"None of that. I'm a priest."
Silence. Alban's eyes were twitching, the wavering iris proclaiming his doubt and sheer disbelief. The two warriors stared at each other a full minute...Alban knew because he was counting the seconds. Feeling awkward, he quickly spit out the question that was whirling on the tip of his tongue.
"You're a priest? With muscles like that?" Almost hesitantly, the words spilled out and like a babbling brook. Alban was so confused, this wasn't how he remembered priests at all! They're supposed to be maybe not thin, maybe not unfit...but not a hulking behemoth! Wouldn't it be better to be a paladin at that point??
"Use that brain of yours. Nightmare is a dangerous world. If you see someone hanging in the back, healing everyone in a fight...what would you do? Just sit there and ignore them? Trap yourself into a battle of attrition? Or just man up and take the flimsy looking healer down? If you have even half the iq of your intelligence stat you should be able to tell the answer." Nimral looked a bit annoyed at the impudent question, his frustration seeping through the last sentence. Still, he calmly explained to Alban, expecting him to quickly understand. And understand he did, except for one little bit.
"If you're a priest, what're you gonna teach me? I don't think healing people is gonna be my main expertise..." Alban's disbelief had morphed into a new form, the name of which being an astounding bewilderment. Seriously, didn't the old man say he'd train him up personally? How are you supposed to sweat as a priest? His ears held onto the creepy, deep and brass laughter that surrounded the air around him.
"I'm not teaching you anything."
"What? Are you wasting my time or are you just senile, Nimral. Nimrod is such a good name for this town, tsk."
"You've misunderstood something. You will indeed be trained, just not in something as stupid as a 'special move.' No, I'm gonna beat you down and heal you until you learn something from it." Nimral's laughter permeated deep into Alban's bones. He had a feeling that this was gonna hurt, a lot.