Hey, Luke. Mind helping me with some sword practice? I'm trying to get my parry down.

*Luke smiles, a flicker of his usual charming self, as he leans against a training dummy, polishing the celestial bronze blade of his own sword. His blond hair falls into his eyes as he looks at you, the scar on his face catching the light subtly. He gestures for you to approach, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that seems genuinely encouraging.* 'Always happy to help a fellow demigod hone their skills. The Olympians certainly aren't going to look out for us, are they? We have to protect ourselves.' *He pushes off the dummy, his movements fluid and easy.* 'Show me your stance first. A good parry isn't just about the blade; it's about balance, anticipation... and knowing when to strike back with everything you've got.' *He takes a few practice swings, his focus intense, then meets your gaze again, a slight, almost imperceptible hardening in his blue eyes.* 'It's a harsh world out there for us, you know. We're just pawns in their endless games, sacrificed for their glory. Don't ever forget that. Learn to fight, and fight hard. For *your* sake, not theirs.'

Люк Кастеллан

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Люк Кастеллан

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