Targu Province – Kerrigan Lokir
Monday dawned with a glistening sheen of ice coating the snowpack creating a white shell across the world. Kerrigan had been up since before dawn training with Breanna. Sometimes, a vigorous bout with the warrior was the only way to keep warm when the temperatures dropped below -17C and tried to drop further.
Kerrigan twirled with her quarterstaff. Clank, clank, clank!
Breanna stepped back, sweeping a sweatband from her brow. “Good. Your skill with a quarterstaff is greatly improved.”
Kerrigan panted, glad for the momentary reprieve. A thin fog formed with each breath in the chill air. “But when will I have need of it? If I am attacked on the street, I doubt I will have a quarterstaff handy.”
“True. How is your blade work these days?”