La Academia de Ciencias Marciales

After finishing a shift in the church cargo yard, James heads inside, searching for someone in specific. After asking around he finally tracks down Ankre Gustav Thunderborn, Master of building affairs, going over an inventory list in his office. Knocking politely on the doorframe, James waits till he’s acknowledged before entering.
 
“Ankre Thunderborn, I have a favor to ask of you, and the church.” James speaks with a strong voice. The aging dwarf looks up at James, nods and motions to continue. “There are a number of people that I know, who have shown interest in learning to to properly handle weapons, and other fighting techniques. I have an extensive knowledge, and would like to teach them. The issue is, some of these people who want to learn are ladies of the higher classes, and I am decidedly not on that social level. So to keep them from suffering any repercussions for “impropriety” while I teach them, I’d like a medium sized room, or at least a roofed section, that’s able to be easily hidden from casual observation. There has been a lot of violence out in the city recently, and these people, and ladies would feel better if they knew how to handle a blade or any weapon a little better. Others just want to be able to keep their edge without it looking suspicious.” James stands at rest, waiting for Ankre Thunderborn to speak.
 
Minutes go by, as the dwarf looks at James, then over the figures and plans he has laid all over his desk. Eventually he returns his attention to James. “Ever since I took over this position three years ago, I’ve been barely able to keep up with the day to day operations of this place. That’s what happens in one of the busiest ports in the whole damn country.” The Ankre takes out a pipe, stuffs it with deliberate care, and lights it properly, relaxing into his chair. “Mr. Saint Mirth. You haven’t been here long, not in the city and not at this church. I’m not in the habit of granting requests just because of their asking, and even less so from someone not quite proven.”
 
“I do not expect to be given it for free Ankre. I expect to spend whatever you and the church requires, and I will spend sweat in abundance to see this through, if you allow it.” James stands still, but a nervous energy builds inside him.
 
Ankre Thunderborn regards James with amusement in his eyes. “Like I said, you haven’t been here long Mr. Saint Mirth, but from what I’ve heard, you have done good work around here, no complaint, and even helping a few of the younger ones to get caught up to speed.” He takes a large pull on the pipe, letting the smoke slowly out. “Ever since I’ve gotten here, I’ve wanted to go through some of the old rooms, clean them out, inventory them. You know the routine.” James nods his head, feeling hopeful. The dwarf pulls a set of architectural plans from under the pile and spreads it out on his desk. It covers the entire church building. “There’s five rooms near the yard, that are a part of the main building, that have been closed up for some time. I don’t know why, and the most recent inventory I’ve seen was 30 years ago, and even that was incomplete. So here’s the deal I’ll make you. You pick one of these rooms, you clean it out, get me an inventory and you can use it. You’ll also do another full day of Bosun’s work, including training others so we can finally not be barely keeping our head above the water with all the cargo coming in. And lastly, you will have to pass a weapons knowledge test. Once you’ve done that, you will also teach new initiates or others that we feel could use to have the shine knocked off, and actual knowledge gained, not some fancy house sword trainer’s dancing. I can see in your eyes that you’ve been in actual fights, ones where life hung by a thread. That’s good, we need that. So do what I ask, agree to my terms, and you can have your training room Mr. Saint Mirth. And if you happen to come across any weapons of a non-magical or non-artistic/historical nature, you’re welcome to keep them to use. I think there might be a couple of crates in there. Do we have an accord?”
 
 
James walks forward, and offers his hand. “That we do! Fair and accepted.”
 
“Fair and accepted.” The dwarf grasps his hand, giving a strong handshake. “Okay, first you’re going to need to pick a room, then I’ll give you the key, and show you where it is.” James studies the map and picks out one of the medium sized ones that’s also right next to a covered area outside the building mostly blocked in by walls. Ankre Thunderborn nods, pulls out an old iron key, and hands it to James. “Follow me.”
 
Following the dwarf who’s pipe is puffing like a smoke stack, they walk through a winding path, one sure to keep prying eyes from knowing where they’re going. Out into the small side yard the dwarf points to a set of old, double doors, large enough for big cargo boxes to easily slide into. The lock turns hard, having not been used in a long time, and James opens the door. Practically from floor to ceiling and back to front is a very tightly packed room of crates of all sizes. “Good luck Mr. Saint Mirth. I’ll leave you to figuring out how to accomplish this task, and I’ll have the paperwork for inventory waiting for you tomorrow!” With that the dwarf heads back inside, very pleased.
 
“Well Storm Father, you said nothing worth anything is gained without spending something. Or maybe that was just a drunkard in a tavern. Either way it was good advice.” Looking around as the size of the side yard, and the room, James gets an idea that’ll make this all go a lot faster. Because if there’s one thing yard dogs like more than getting paid, it’s free ale.