It Started with Slime - Part 1

Interlude XIII - Boren, Legends and Escapes

The Prince of Darf was walking through the hallways of the palace once more feeling restless. His training session had paid dividends and then some. For some reason though, Fenwin the old codger had stopped him from pushing further. Why did he stop me? I could have got to 63%! He had been in the earth chamber for a week straight. Hunger and thirst had been forgotten and that room felt like home. It was so incredible and made him feel like he could do anything. Why had he been stopped? Fenwin wouldn't let me do anything fun! Boren pouted at the thought.

Okay, so he had come out the room tired and hunger and thirsty, perhaps he had lost a few kilos in the process, the time in the room did not remove the need for sustenance. But still he could have gotten to that after improving his affinity...right?

After some of the irritation and anger had subsided...and he had eaten something and drank something...he had been on the verge of starvation. He had realised the error of his decision. There would be time enough to increase his affinity. But until then it would be difficult for him to control the urge to re-enter the room and resume his affinity training.

In all honesty he had entered the room on a whim when he had remembered the feeling of being in the room one boring afternoon when his political tutors had droned on and on about the customs of the neighbouring countries on their continent. He would need to learn them eventually, Boren knew that but he couldn't help but find it so boring! The tutors made it sound like the most mundane thing in the world. Boren normally would have enjoyed learning about other customs but not from the confines of a stuffy classroom. He wanted to meet people and talk to them and walk in their shoes for a while, that was the real way to understand someone! Father had taught him as much, so why he insisted on this style of teaching Boren would never understand.

That feeling had stayed with him since entering the room. He had that feeling of being home and comfortable, the only one of the four rooms that had felt that way. It was like being in his mother's embrace; his mother was a warm and kind woman to her children, ruthless with others. Boren had seen the ruthless side of her when he had snuck out of the palace once and the guards had no seen his leave. Boren didn't want to think of the poor guards that had been on duty when it happened. He hoped it would never happen again. She worried about him. Briefly Boren thought of his eldest sibling, Darthmoor, he had been out of the palace for some time now, making allegiances with the neighbouring countries and keeping their trade deals strong. His other siblings were similarly doing so in all four lands. Only Boren was left at home, poor sick Boren; can't do anything or he might get hurt. It was a bitter thought.

Continuing along the corridor Boren realised that he had not been paying attention to where he was going. He found himself at the sparring grounds. A source of great anxiety for him from when he had tried to master the sword. Not just the sword though, in a vain attempt to get him aquainted with at least some form of melee weapon he had tried everything under the sun, the hammer, spear, staff and great sword he should not even have bothered with in hindsight. Why do they categorise the spear and staff separately, they are pole-arms, one with a pointy end and one not... The club, sword and axe had been slightly less embarrassing but not my much. Final the daggers and unarmed had been the place where he had found something that in a last ditch situation might actually be of some use to him. It was going to hard for regardless. What kind of prince couldn't even wield a weapon? Daggers were the weapons of thieves and would find their home more in Pravwell that Brewyn. Fist fighting? Hardly worth mentioning, maybe if he was a dock brawler. Otherwise there was not much use for those Skills.

It was better than nothing though and Boren had taken to trying daggers and fist fighting training as a way to strengthen his weakened body. But it was one step forward, two steps back. Every time he tried to strengthen his body he would get sick.