Word: Expository

 

expository

[ ik-spoz-i-tawr-ee, -tohr-ee ]

adjective

1. of the nature of exposition; serving to expound, set forth, or explain:

   an expository essay;

   expository writing.

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               Max sat slumped in his desk, resting his chin on his hand. His eyes were glazed as he focused on nothing. In fact, he studiously avoided focusing on the one thing he should have been. His mind was not wandering though. That implied there was thought occurring. His mental silence was broken by a foot hitting the side of his calf.

               “Pay attention.” Opal said as quietly as she could.

               “Do I have to? It’s not like we’re learning anything important.” Max said, equally quietly.

               “Not important? We’re learning about one of the most important wars in history.”

               “Uh-huh, that’s nice. How is it relevant to us?”

               “It shaped cultures across the world. How the different species interact with each other is still influenced by it.”

               “Great. Cool. Doesn’t tell us what those cultures are like now, or how everyone gets along. We gotta get out of the classroom for that.”

               “The lessons we learn now will give us important cultural context when interacting with ancient ruins and structures.”

               “As long as the treasure’s there, I don’t care much for that other stuff. Look, Opal, how about we cut to the end of this conversation. You keep listening to the big, important lore dump and I’ll not do that.”

               “Lore dump?”

               “Yeah, you know. A big lump of exposition. It’s a term from back home. Remember those video games and movies I told you about? It’s from those. And I pretty much always skip them whenever I had the option. I don’t see why this one being in real life should change that.”

               “This is not a game.” Opal said through clenched teeth.

               By now a few of the nearby students had picked up on the conversation. Neither Opal nor Max cared about being listened to though.

               “I know. Doesn’t make it any less pointless. Or less boring. I mean, come on, why do I need to know who won the…” He actually looked at the lecturer’s writing for the first time since the lesson began. “battle of the twin rivers? I don’t even know where the twin rivers are.”

“And if you were paying attention, you would.”

Max shrugged. “It’s not like it’s critical info. If we ever go there, I’ll know where they are. And there’ll probably be some memorial or something that explains the battle in a more interesting way, anyways.”

Opal resisted screaming. That would disrupt the entire class and probably get her in trouble. Instead, she clenched her first and mentally envisioned herself knocked several of Max’s teeth out of his mouth.

“Is there any way I can get you to actually pay attention?”

“Nope.”

Before she could say anything, the student sitting behind them leaned forward. It was a young man that neither of them knew. The student whispered to Max.

“If you don’t pay attention, you’ll probably fail the class and have to repeat it again next year.”

Max worked his jaw as he considered the boy’s words.

               “Hm, good point. See, Opal? This guy gets it.”

               And with that, he turned to face the lecturer, who still seemed oblivious to the conversation. Opal looked from Max to the student behind them and back again. She watched Max actually begin to take notes. She ran her hands down her face and resisted the urge to do a great many loud and disruptive things.

      ***********************************

Pay attention is class, everyone. You never know when some random piece of information will come in handy.        

Word: Poseur

 

poseur

[ poh-zur; French paw-zœr ]

noun

, plural po·seurs [poh-, zurz, paw-, zœr].

1. a person who attempts to impress others by assuming or affecting a manner, degree of elegance, sentiment, etc., other than their true one.

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               “So, how many applicants do we have?” Reiner asked.

               “Three.” Replied Marah.

               “That’s it?”

               “Yup. What, did you expect more? We’re not exactly a well known party.” She said, laying out their options.

               Reiner slumped onto a chair next to his party member. “I know. But I’d still hoped for something more, you know? I mean, there’s lots of adventurers that are just getting started and should be looking for a party, right?”

               The thought was interrupted by the sound of metal. The duo looked up to see a man dressed in very nice plate armor. Almost too nice. Reiner thought it might be decorative, but one could never really be sure. Magic armor could be very elaborate, after all. He had an equally ornate long sword strapped to his hip and a matching shield on his back.

               “So, I hear you two are looking for a new party member!” He said in a loud voice. “Well, you’re in luck! For before you stand Sir Leopold of Kellwood! Greatest knight in all the land!”

               Reiner leaned in close to Marah. “You ever hear of this guy?”

               “Nope. Seems like a big blowhard to me.”

               “He one of our applicants?”

               “Nope. Those are for a shield warrior, an archer, and a combat alchemist.”

               Reiner thought. He was a healer, and Marah was a rogue. So the addition of a good defender would be welcome. But then again, she was definitely right about him seeming to be a big braggart. Well, as long as he had the skills to back up his claims of being “the greatest knight,” Reiner didn’t much care what Leopold said.

               “Greatest in the land, huh?” He said. “Guess you must be pretty good with that sword, right?”

               “Of course!” The knight said proudly. “I’m among the best swordsmen in the world!”

               “So then you wouldn’t mind a little test, right?”

               “Of course! I welcome any challenge!”

               “Marah, if you would?”

               “No problem.”

               The slender woman stood and approached the large knight. She cracked her neck and stretched a bit.

               “Try and hit me.” She said. “If you can, you’re in. Don’t worry, big guy, I won’t hit back. We go until you either land a hit, or you get too worn out to keep trying.”

               “A simple task! Do not worry, fair lady, I won’t hurt you.”

               “Oh feel free.” Reiner said. “If you land a hit, I’ll fix her right up.”

               Sir Leopold smiled wide and drew his sword. He swung in a large overhead chop. Marah looked confused as she easily dodged. Another attack came, with another effortless evasion by the rogue. Reiner could immediately see the problem. The man was completely inept. Reiner had seen goblins that wielded a sword better. His attacks were slow, big and telegraphed a mile away. At first, the healer thought Leopold was trying to lure Marah into a false sense of security. Get her to lower her guard by feigning ineptitude. But as the minutes wore on, it because obvious that he was just bad.

               The fact that he barely lasted five minutes did not hurt that conclusion either. After that time, Leopold fell to one knee, using his sword to keep from falling over. Sweat dripped from his face and he was gasping for every breath.

               “I see you are quite nimble.” Sir Leopold said, gasping for breath between each word.

               “Well, yeah, I totally am.” Marah said. “But you’re also really slow.”

               “I am one of the swiftest blades alive!” He supposed knight said, doing his best to not seem completely exhausted.

               “Uh-huh. Sure you are, buddy. Sure you are.” The rogue said, rolling her eyes.

               “Hey, uh, Leopold?” Reiner said before an argument could begin.

               “Sir Leopold!”

               “Right, sir Leopold. Listen, we’ve got some other prospective party members coming in later, and we’d rather give them a shot first. But if any of them don’t make the cut, we’ll be sure to contact you.”

               “Ah, very well. I shall be gracious and allow those before me the chance to join your fine group. But if you ever have need of a great knight, do not hesitate to contact me!”

               He slowly and wobbly stood. His knees barely held up as he tried to maintain steady step. Other people around them just looked at the man with pity.

               “Well, let’s hope the actual applicants aren’t that pathetic.” Marah said as she returned to her seat.

               “Yeah. Let’s hope.”

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 Hm...pretty sure I've used this kind of setting before, haven't I? The whole adventuring party looking for new recruits thing, I mean. I guess it's just something I like writing?

Word: Assiduously

 

assiduously

[ uh-sij-oo-uhs-lee ]

adverb

1. with careful and consistent effort; diligently or tirelessly:

   The Department of Health is still working assiduously with the schools to prevent further spread of the disease.

2. constantly; ceaselessly:

   He referred to the boys assiduously as “gentlemen.”

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               Two of the masters watched as the smallest of the students practiced. The child swung their sword endlessly, despite the fact that everyone else had long since ended the day’s training.

               “What do you think?” Asked one of the masters.

               “Admirable dedication. If anyone else had that kind of will, I would consider them as a true disciple. But this one?” the other said.

               The first master nodded slowly. His colleague continued.

               “I do not understand why we even allowed her to enter the school. The arts we teach are not for girls to learn. They do not have the fortitude for it.”

               The first master looked at the child. He was not so sure he echoed the thoughts of the other man. There was something about the student’s eyes. He had seen that fire before. It was found in all those who had become masters. Even he had once had that look in his eyes, long ago.

               “So what should we do? We have already accepted her.” The first master said as he looked at the girl.

               “We do as we always have. We teach. We treat her as we do the others, as is proper. She will eventually come to realize her place is not here with a sword in her hand.”

               “You are so sure she will fail?”

               Looking at her relentless effort, the first master could not see failure coming easily. Surely it would come. It came to everyone. It was a matter of what one did afterwards that mattered. He could see that child picking up a broken sword before she ever picked up a cooking ladle.

               “Of course. It is simply a fact of life. Women do not possess the strength for battle. That is why they avoid bloodshed whenever they can.”

               The first master said nothing. The student kept swinging her sword. Each swing was imperfect and wasteful. But that was to be expected. No student ever performed even a basic swing right away. Often it took years to master even the simplest of sword strikes. No, he could not fault her for her lack of skill. But they drive that kept her going was certainly worthy of note. And he could not help but feel that his colleague was mistaken. At least about this one.

               “Come, my friend. She will tire herself out eventually.” The second master said. “We only need to treat her like any other student, and she will leave on her own.”

               “I wonder.” The first master said quietly.

The second did not respond. The man was already turning to leave. The first took one last look at the young student, diligently swinging her sword like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. No matter what his fellow master said, he was sure she would succeed. And he would keep an eye on her. She was not disciple worthy yet. But if she continued as she was now?  Well, being known as the master with the first woman as a true student was certainly something of note. 

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Yeah, you know the kid's going to grow up and kick major butt. That's how these stories go, right? It wouldn't be fun if she just quit midway through the training arc.