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3.

It's amazing how much the mind remembers, and this was obvious for Devon. It had been three years since he had been transplanted into the body of the young Lord Alwyn Duvane, the ducal heir to Elrik and Mirelda Duvane. His new home was the castle town of Thornbriar, a fief to the far southern end of the continent of the Free beast kingdom of Illuminaria. He was no longer Devon Mallory, middle aged human design engineer and physics teacher, but in the body of a 1367 year old alien rabbit-human hybrid.

Once his mind managed to grasp what had happened to him, He found the experiences of this world amazing. Not only was his body young, strong and vital, but he had the collective memories of his former life and training to back it up. Most kids of this age, human or otherwise, would be too distracted with fun stuff, like play and exploration. Devon planned on doing that too, but right now his priority was to acclimate himself to this bizarre world of talking animals and magic.

Calatrix was Alwyn's tutor, so naturally he was now Devon's as well--not like he was going to need one, but he knew the old dog-man was going to help guide him. He would use the excuse of having amnesia to hide his exuberant curiosity about, well everything.

One benefit of his past life was he still had a photographic memory. He was able to read the language of this world through some sort of neurological translation in his new alien brain, and he soon was drinking in books and manuscripts like an alcoholic trapped in a wine cellar. Before long, he was picking up the known history of Aeurn, the religion/mythologies of this world and their god they called 'the Maker'. At times, Devon was so enraptured by all he was learning that he would forget to eat or drink and even times was found by Calatrix or Lenni with his head plastered on a book and sleeping.

Being a designer in his old life, he also took to reading maps and diagrams of the city layout. Thornbriar was a castle city, typical of ancient Medieval castles from his old life's history. The massive structure that stood as a castle was surrounded by a massive inner curtain wall which housed the nobles and aristocratic families tied to the Duvane Duchy. Further out was a larger and wider outer curtain wall that spread out further, with the castle off center of that main wall. This was where the main city was held and the businesses and homes of the more well-off commoners were housed. Further outside the walls of the city were the fields and farms of the peasants that dealt with agriculture and growing crops. The buildings further out were well built but not as dilapidated as he would expect a peasant's home. Being from a previous world with poverty as well, he could sympathize for these beings who lived in rough houses while he lived in an elegant and rich looking castle. He knew from many of his knowledge of history from his old world that Feudalism involved commoners who paid taxes to the nobility, and in return, the nobility provided military and civic support to help the commoners. There was expected extremes where the nobility would grind the commoners down while they lived like tyrants but thankfully he never saw that in Duke Elrik's rule.

Thank Goodness my new parents aren't dicks, He thought to himself gratefully.

He did, however, find out that Alwyn was a different person entirely. During one of his excursions through the castle, he had accidentally bumped into a young girl around his age. It was one of the girls from the kitchen, Rita. She was a skinny looking mouse-kin, brown furred with white around her eyes and muzzle. She wore a simple gray dress which had her stringy tail poking through a hole in the back.

Rita fell on her butt as we collided and let out a nasty curse.

"Watch where you're going you son of a..." Her mouth hung open as she realized who she bumped into. I was more at fault than she was but I didn't take a tumble like she did.

Soon as she locked eyes and realized who I was she immediately got onto her knees and bowed low, "Forgive me, young master! Please have mercy on my foolishness!"

It was kind of embarrassing the way this mouse girl was prostrating herself for me so instead I knelt down in front of her.

"Think nothing of it." I told her as I gave her my hand, "I wasn't looking where I was going. Please, raise your head."

Rita didn't move, but instead shied away from my offered hand, "No! Please forgive me, master. Please don't hurt my mother for this!"

Hurt her mother? For bumping into him?

"Why would I hurt your mother?" Devon asked in a mix of shock and worry.

Rita looked up and Devon noticed tears coming from her eyes. "Y-you won't punish my m-mother?"

"Why in the world would I do that?" Devon then reached out and took Rita's hand. She squeaked as he helped her back to her feet. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

The young mouse maid gave Devon a look as if she was looking at a stranger. "No...I...." she then peered at me curiously, "You really don't remember anything?"

Uh oh, Devon thought as he realized that there was something big about to happen, "I...don't...please, if you know something...?"

Just then another Mouse-kin appeared, a woman by her stature and that she was at least another foot higher than either of them. She looked at Rita then at Devon and if it wasn't for the fur on her face, Devon could probably seen the blood drain from her flesh.

"Rita!" The older Mouse-kin chided, "What have you done?" She grabbed her by the shoulder then bowed to Devon deeply. "If my child has harmed you in any way, young master, I'll take full responsibility for it!"

"Would someone please tell me what's going on?" Devon finally asked in frustration. All this groveling was getting on his nerves.

"Momma!" Rita started, "He doesn't remember anything! Just like Lenni said!"

Apparently that cat-kin maid of mine isn't just a competent maid, but a gossip-hound. Devon made a mental note to use such information for later.

"Miss." Devon finally replied, "The fault was mine for not watching where I was going. Your daughter was just a victim of my own lack of awareness. For that, I apologize for any injury I put on her."

Rita's mother was now giving me a similar look of disbelief that her daughter just was showing. "Y-you apologized?"

"Please miss...?"

"Ah....Anna..." Rita's mother replied.

"Miss Anna. There seems to be something you both are not telling me about my past. Yes, I don't have any memories of my past, so if it's not too much to ask..."

Anna seemed reluctant to say anything, but Rita on the other hand didn't have such hesitation, "It's just that you were always mean to us, master Alwyn!"

"Rita!" Anna shushed.

Devon held up a hand, "No. Please, I wish to know more, Miss Anna." He turned back to Rita, "How was I mean?"

Looking at his mother, Rita saw the look of resignation on her mother's face.

"I don't wish to make this a command. I just wish to know more about who I was...before..."

Rita seemed to inhale sharply as if getting ready to resign herself to the execution block. "You were a spoiled brat, young master!"

The sudden honest outburst not only shocked Devon, but also enthralled him. Damn, this girl's has balls! Anna on the other hand, looked like she was going to faint.

"You always did what you wanted, and barged into the kitchen demanding sweets and pushing everyone around. If anyone fought back, you'd have them and their family members beaten for their insolence."

Devon wasn't sure if either of them could read his face, but Rita stopped as she seemed to get the jist of the look of horror on the young master's face.

So, Alwyn was a royal brat, Devon stewed at the thought. One thing that Devon couldn't stand was bullies and people who thought they were better than him. He had been on more than one occasion the victim of bullies, jealous co-workers, and just general haters online in his old life to make him resent such barbarians. His opinion on the status of the real Alwyn's soul lessened considerably.

"Miss Anna." Devon politely asked, "Could you show me where the kitchen is? I'd like to address the staff there."

The older Mouse-kin looked taken aback by that request, then had a look of concern. Probably thinks I'm going to punish the lot of them for her blabbing.

"Please, Miss Anna. I only wish to talk to the staff. I promise no retaliation will be given out for what you said. You have my word as the Duke's son."

Of course, the reputation of Alwyn would make such a promise tenuous at best. Still, Anna reluctantly agreed and offered to escort him to the Kitchen, Rita in tow. As they went down the hall, Both mouse-kin kept silent, though Rita kept turning to stare at Alwyn skeptically. Devon tried to maintain a poker-face while inside he rehearsed what he was going to say. He knew that he was going to be having to eat some humble pie for this, but he had to repair the reputation left behind by the brat Alwyn.

They went around a corner and came into a large windowless room. There it was a bustle of activity. All around the kitchen were cooks and laborers preparing food for the numerous members of the household: guards, servants, workers and even the nobility. His face was hit with a blast of heat and the smell of cooking meats and stews. A menagerie of fragrances from spices and herbs tingled his olfactory senses and made his mouth water.

The moment he came in, several of the cooks and workers stopped their work and seemed to cringe at the sight of the duke's son.

_Son of a bitch, Alwyn! What the hell did you do to these poor creatures?_The looks on the faces of these beast-folk made his stomach turn.

Devon cleared his throat, causing the rest of the workers not disturbed by his presence to stop. "Excuse me, everyone!" He said loudly above the din, "I wish to address everyone here if I may."

Stepping into the room, the other workers seemed partially annoyed, but the majority of them fearful.

"You may have heard the rumors about my...condition." Devon began, hinting at his recent head injury and amnesia, "I wish to tell you, those rumors are true. I did suffer memory loss and cannot recall anything of my past."

Several workers murmured while others gasped as if showing true pity for the young duke. Good, they don't all hate me at least.

"I have been trying to get re-oriented to my life here and during this it has come to my attention that I have been...less than cordial to the staff and laborers here at the castle."

Now is where I need to hit the nail on the head, Devon thought and he steeled himself mentally.

Devon fell to one knee and lowered his head to them all, eliciting gasps and louder murmurs of surprise. "I regret all that I had done in the past, though I remember nothing of it and I wish to apologize to you all for my behavior! Such actions are unbecoming a duke's son and future heir. A true leader cannot lead through fear and intimidation."

He had everyone's attention now and the room was dead silent save his own voice. Keeping his head low he continued, "I will make it my greatest effort to correct my mistakes of the past and no longer treat my father's subordinates with such scorn. This day I make a vow to you all that I shall become a duke's son you will be proud to serve, not fearful."

There was a pause as those words seemed to sink in. No doubt, there were skeptical beast-kin there who saw him only as a spoiled rich brat. He didn't know how to live as a noble, but he did silently promise to himself that he was going to be the best damn noble this world would ever see.

A thick paw suddenly came on his shoulder and a beefy voice spoke, gruff and gravely. "Oy, Brat. Wot you doing wit your 'ead bow'd to us lot?" Devon looked up and saw what looked like a massive grizzly bear, Thick black fur covering his bear like face, but oddly wearing the traditional white tunic, pants and apron of a chef. He even had one of those souffle shaped hats that cooks stereo-typically wore.

"You must be Grelm." Devon spoke up to the bear-kin chef. He was easily a good six feet tall and could easily step on him like a bug.

"Aye, I be Grelm." He replied in a voice that sounded like he was gargling rocks, "'N you be our Duke's boy. No Duke should bow'n a knee to 'dis lot, 'n neither be 'is son." The massive bear-kin gripped Alwyn's body with both hands and lifted him easily off his feet and planted him back into a standing position.

"Did you mean all that, Master?" Anna spoke out as Devon righted himself. "No one of Gaylen's blood has bowed to commoners like this."

"Not since 'da first 'o his line did." Grelm added.

It was in one of Devon's studies about this world regarding Alwyn's heritage. King Gaylen was the first bunny-kin to unite the tribes of free beast-kin into the Kingdom of Illuminaria, and since then there had been a total of six Kings who upon being crowned took the name of Gaylen--like the popes of his old world would take a venerated name when elected. He was living under the rule of the last Gaylen, the Sixth.

"Perhaps that needs to change as well." Devon inserted, returning to the current situation. "King Gaylen humbled himself to become king, and the free beasts of this realm followed him without question. I may be of the King's bloodline so I should be more like my descendant towards you all."

It was said that during the dragon wars with the Drakkul and his lizard-kin fanatics tried to conquer the north kingdom, King Gaylen V had betrayed the kingdom out of fear of the so-called God-king Palador Goldenmane, who had been instrumental in uniting the kingdom to fight the chaos dragons. As a result, he had poisoned the God-king and thought to slay him. Instead Palador used the last of his magic along with the magic hammer, Sin-slayer to cleave the continent in half, separating the lizard-kin and the Drakkul from the north lands into their own island nation. Later Palador, who had died from that betrayal, came back from the dead during his public funeral and King Gaylen V abdicated his throne, knowing he betrayed the Maker. Rather than taking the crown for himself, he instead placed it on the head of the king's son, Prince Yohan, and naming him the last King to take the name of Gaylen. Since then, the blood line of Gaylen had a taint of betrayal in their reputation.

Naturally, Devon wasn't personally from that blood line in all but body now, but he felt like if he was going to play the part of a noble, he needed to do better.

Devon felt a small set of hands cup his and he looked to see Rita staring at him with wide-eyes and almost a look of admiration. "Master Alwyn." She said, nearly singing her words, "I believe you, sire."

Anna started to giggle and soon the atmosphere in the room loosened as if taut like a bowstring.

"I hope you'll excuse my daughter, Master. She reads a lot of stories of noble knights and of Palador and gets a bit starry-eyed at such acts of chivalry."

"Aye, young mas'r." Grelm intoned, his broad muzzle in a smile, "Da way ye talk'd jus now, I'd hav' th'ot ye be Gayl'n 'imself."

With the tension removed, The workers all showed their appreciation to the Alwyn then returned to their work. It seemed that the room was a bit brighter now as the cooks and servants milled about, and Devon couldn't help but smile.

After giving his farewells to Anna, Rita, Grelm and the other workers, Devon went back out to the courtyard, knowing it was just about time for one of his new tutors to begin lessons.

I'll need to study more about Gaylen when I can, Devon thought.He sounded like someone I might have liked.

-

For the next few weeks, Alwyn studied more and even got some free time where he would go into the kitchen with Grelm and the others. Since his unorthodox apology, the staff started to warm up to the young duke as well as young Anna. The two became fast friends and took time to play around the courtyard.

At some point, Alwyn would sneak some of his knowledge of his old world to Grelm and the others. One day, he was displaying a little piece of work he made that had many of the staff staring.

"Wot is it?" Grelm stared.

"I call it a 'sandwich." Alwyn replied.

There on a plate was a simple meal, consisting of two slices of thick cut bread, with a special spread from a home-made recipe for mayonnaise. Devon remembered from his past attempts at cooking in his old life. In it was lettuce, slices from what was the equivalent of a tomato in this world, and thick slices of roasted boar.

Despite being a creature pattered after a rabbit from his old world, Bunny-kins like any other beast kin were omnivores--though some groups and individual preferred one food over another. Ever since coming to Aeurn he had been craving a good burger or sandwich for one reason or another. They didn't have cows in this world apparently--eating a member of a race of beast-kin was considered abhorrent like being a cannibal in Devon's old world.

Instead they used non-sentient beings like Boars; actual boars that were like the ones in his previous life. The less known was a species of animals that looked like a hippo and a yak known as a Malmore. Malmore were a fat shaggy looking beast with a large mouth like a hippo, but covered in thick hair like a yak. They were raised not only for their meat, but the fur could be sheared into a luxurious fabric. The milk from the females was also good--it was even made into various butters and cheeses just like cow milk on Earth.

The sandwich on his plate also had a couple slices of Malmore cheese which seemed to have a consistency slightly less firm as cheddar. With his experiment completed he sliced the sandwich into four pieces, handing a piece to Grelm, Anna and Rita. Devon took the other piece and quickly took a bite. The other three looked at it skeptically; yet, as they watched Devon chew on the morsel, the others did likewise.

"By da mak'r!" Grelm exclaimed. "Dat be a fine piece of vit'ls if'n I ever tasted!"

"I must agree, master Alwyn." Anna said after finishing her bite, "I never even considered this method of preparing meals."

"Yummy!" Rita exclaimed as she stuffed her share into her mouth.

"If you think that was good," Alwyn added, "I got an idea for something else, but could use your help."

"Yo show'n us 'ow yo made dis 'ere...sand-witch...'n will lis'n to anyt'ng you god, y'ung Mas'r."

Alwyn proceeded to show them the recipe for mayonnaise--thankfully there was equivalent ingredients here on his old world to use for eggs, vinegar and salt. The Eggs came from the large flightless Ahmul birds that were raised as both a producer of eggs as well as beasts of burdens for carriages or even riding like a horse.

After showing him the simple composition of a sandwich, Alwyn then looked to creating Aeurn's first ever Hamburger and fries. The potatoes were easy enough to find--it seemed there was a lot of common plants and ingredients from his old world here; no doubt a common biological process or evolution since the native sentient species on this planet were half human/half animals similar to his old world.

It was the meat that proved difficult, since no one had considered grounding Malmore meat. When Alwyn explained the process, Grelm had begun experimenting using a hung of well marbled meat and using a knife to slice the meat one direction, then the other, cubing them into a mesh.

Some of the bakers among the staff used a set of sweet rolls that were large enough that when sliced horizontally, would fit the burger perfectly.

With a little salt and pepper, Alwyn helped Grelm and the others into shaping handfuls of diced meat into patties, making sure to make them a bit larger for the buns since the meat would shrink while cooking. They made initially only four patties, but after seeing the looks on all the other staff, they realized that they shouldn't leave everyone out so they prepared enough for everyone.

For the fries, several potatoes were washed, cleaned and, under the young master's instruction, sliced the potatoes into strips, then placed into deep pans of heated oil. While the patties were being made, the fries crisped and browned in the oil, then pulled out once they were deemed cooked. Alwyn then helped by sprinkling them with a generous amount of salt and rosemary.

Placing the patties on a flat metal plate they were laid over the open fire where the plate could get good and hot. Soon the air wafted with the smell of cooked meat. The patties were flipped to insure both sides got seared and cooked completely. Meanwhile, Rita and Anna prepared the rolls with some of the other ladies, preparing them similarly to the way Alwyn used on the sandwich. Once completed, they finished placing the grilled meat on the rolls and topped.

"What a pleasant smell." Anna remarked.

With that, everyone had their burger and fries and ate. The effect was instantaneous.

"Amazing!" One chef said. "Such flavor!"

"And the bun makes it easier to handle." Another remarked.

"And these...what did you call them again master? Fries?"

Alwyn nodded, his cheeks bulging with a large bite of his own burger.

"I never would have expected to use a potato this way."

Grelm looked at the young master inquisitively, " 'ow'd you cum bai dis 'ere creat'n, mas'r?"

Shit, Devon cursed inwardly, Think fast, Mallory...

"I think it was one of Calatrix's books during my studies." Alwyn explained, "Told of some exotic recipes from other lands." He paused as he looked like in thought, "I wish I could remember where that book is...he has so many."

"If you can find it," Anna inquired, "Please make sure to bring it to us. Such delicacies can only help improve the quality of the Duke's table."

Devon almost wanted to laugh at the thought of a duke's dinner would involve burgers and fries. In his old world they were cheap fast food but here it was an exotic alien cuisine.

Now if I can only figure out how to make a chocolate milkshake...

-

On one end of the inner courtyard, the barracks for housing the troops and training facilities was built for the duke's militia. All about were Beast-kin of different races and sizes sparring, repairing weapons or milling about with other guards, trading stories and tips on doing their jobs.

It was here that Master Alwyn was to return to his training in combat.

"You slacked off long enough, young master." The voice of a regal looking wolf-kin resounded. Alwyn's trainer was the captain of the guard, Hawkes and he was twice the size of Alwyn, bulkier with muscles showing through the simple chain-mail hauberk and wore a green cloth doublet atop of it. His fur was deep gray and one eye was concealed behind an eye-patch but a deep scar could be seen go over it. He wore simple padded armor on his pants and, like all other beast-kin, wore no boots or shoes.

It was standard training mail, and naturally, Devon had to have a similar outfit on as well. Even at his age, he was expected to learn to defend himself and become a sword master.

However, Devon had never used a weapon in his life--at least his previous one. He had only used a pocket knife during his time with the cub scouts and even then it was for brief times to avoid cutting himself. Therefore when Hawks handed him a short bun-kin-sized sword, he held it awkwardly in his hands and struggling with the weight of the metal blade.

"Is this really necessary, Hawks?" Devon asked, keeping the blade up by sheer force of will.

"That's 'sir' when you're in my world, Master Alwyn." the wolf snarled.

Great, Devon said while mentally rolling his eyes, I got a drill instructor who probably chases his own tail for fun.

"Y-yes sir." Devon replied openly.

"This is just to give you an idea of what is to come, Master Alwyn" began Hawks, "In time, you'll be whipping that sword around like it was part of you. You'll learn which end to hold, and what part of the blade you poke the bad guys with."

A few of the other guards watching chuckled as Alwyn struggled to keep the sword up.

"Not going to be doing much of that if I can't even keep it aloft." Devon commented, then quickly remembered, "..sir."

Hawks grinned a wolfish grin, showing a few of his off-white fangs, "Not to worry, young master. Firs thing we need to do is get you used to swinging one. The rest will come in time."

He reached down to pull the sword from Devon's grasp, allowing the Duke's son to sigh in relief and shake his tired muscles. He then tossed the young bun-kin a short but sturdy looking piece of wood, approximately the same size as the sword, with a carved hilt and grip wrapped in leather. Devon tested the fake blade with a few practice swings. He had no idea what he was doing at the time.

"You know, boyo" Hawks said gruffly to Devon, wielding a heavily padded stick of his own. "They said you lost all your memories. Let's see if your muscles remember me."

Before Devon could see it the old wolf lunged forward, driving the padded stick in a quick cut across his left side. Alarmed by the sudden hit, Devon's young body took the hit hard sending him off his feet and on the dirt with a loud painful yelp. He felt the pain in his side and gasped for breath as he clutched his side.

"Oy!" One of the other guards roared out, "Lil rough on the young master, aintcha boss?"

Hawks barked back, "The Duke'll punish me even more if I don't make his son into a top notch fighter. Ain't that right, boyo?"

Devon fought to breath, knowing his ribs weren't broken, but also knew he was going to feel even worse later. Instead, he drew strength from the fact that he had every intention of beating the shit out of this mangy old beast. Slowly he pulled himself up, glaring teary eyed at the grinning wolf-kin.

"You...surprised me..." Devon struggled to say as he sat up.

"Your enemy won't give you the luxury of a friendly salute, boyo." Hawks intoned, "Here there is no baron or dukes or kings, but beasts fighting tooth and claw for their lives. You best remember that."

Oh, you are so going down, furball. Devon got back up and used the side of his arm to wipe the spittle and dirt from his face.

"Ha! You got back up, didn't ya, pup?" Hawks remarked surly, "Last time you were here you cried like a newborn."

_This again?_Devon realized it wasn't going to be an easy climb to being respected by these people but right now he only wanted to give this wolf a serious lesson in respect. He got back upright and moved into position, only this time he assumed a new stance against the wolf. He tilted his body with his injured side facing away from the wolf. Drawing his wooden blade in front of him, he kept his knees loose and the wooden sword in one hand.

Hawks seemed taken aback at this, "That's no stance I taught you, boyo." He growled.

"Don't call me Boyo, ya mutt." Devon snapped back.

The other guards watching suddenly inhaled together as Hawks growled, "Sassing your betters now? Seems to me you need more lessons...boyo."

As soon as Hawks ended his word, Devon was already rushing him. Unexpectedly, Hawks was still seasoned enough to see the bun-kin's feeble thrust. What he didn't expect was Alwyn's sudden turn towards his blind spot--his bad eye, then let out a grunt as he felt the young duke's foot drive a strike at the back of his knee. There was enough force and surprise to bring the wolf down on that knee, and enough sense to dodge as another feeble sword strike aimed for his head. At least that was what he expected, but only swung at air.

Instead, Devon cocked his leg back and with a firm spring, delivered yet another kick square on the wolf's lumbar region. The old wolf let out a unexpected yelp as he fell on all fours. Shocked by the turn of events, Hawks couldn't recover fast enough to realize the unexpected. Devon now planted his feet on the ground, shifted forward, and sent a full on side kick straight into the wolf's head.

Back in Devon's old world, he had suffered a great deal of bullying from kids who disrespected him for his brains. His father at the time realized that there was only one way to answer bullying and it did not involve the usual form of passive resistance most would allow. Instead, His father got him into studying martial arts and self defense to supplement his academic side. Surprisingly, Devon enjoyed the classes and made it a regular part of his regimen. It not only was a good exercise program, but it allowed him to channel his aggression and even help him focus. It did also help to keep the bullies off him with a few roundhouse kicks. The bully's parents would protest to Devon's dad to which he would reply with "I wouldn't have my son learn to defend himself if your own brats left him alone."

Devon's dad was cool.

Now in this other world, those years of martial arts were paying off. The wolf was a seasoned warrior, but only with swords and not bare fisted brawling. He also took lightly the young duke's son who he saw as a sniveling brat. That and also was part of Devon's study into his own new body. Bun-kins were powerful jumpers and their strength was in their lower body. His martial arts training didn't involve a lot of swords, but when he used his body's assets, he found his feet had the power of a mace.

And as Hawks' face hit the dirt from the force of Devon's roundhouse kick, it was obvious that he had calculated right.

The wolf-kin groaned as he tried to lift his head off the ground, spitting out a wad of dirt and grit, "That was unexpected, young master." He said, rubbing his sore jaw and testing for broken teeth.

"Your enemy won't give you the luxury," Devon quoted with a grin, "Isn't that right...boyo?"

The old wolf glared up at Alwyn then suddenly belted out a loud barking laugh.

"HA! You got me there, young master! You got me there!" Hawks' mood seemed to soften and even show some respect now that he wasn't calling him 'boyo'. The old wolf got up slowly and gave Devon a respectful pat on his shoulder. "You might be fighting material yet. Where did you learn to do that if I may?"

Devon had anticipated this, knowing he was going to have to make some sort of excuse for the fact that he had been a black belt in another life and world. "It seemed strangely natural. I can't explain but I guess it was from all my studies with Calatrix. That and being a bun-kin it seemed right to use my feet."

Hawks nodded, seeming to buy the fabrication Devon had. "Well, while you surprised me, a fully armored foe is not going to feel those kicks all that much." The old wolf stroked his chin as if in contemplation, "Still...the footwork might come in handy."

"I still need to learn how to use a sword, Captain Hawks." Devon said sincerely.

"Aye!" Hawks replied, "But you got potential. A bit of refinement and we'll make you into a top battle-beast out of you, young master."

From that point on, Hawks treated Devon far better. Instead of the usual beat-down lessons he had given him, the old wolf showed him techniques to using a sword: swinging, parrying, striking at key spots on the body and how to use an enemy's strength against him. Much of it mirrored his old life's martial arts training so he was able to learn it quickly. Devon was motivated to regain some of his old familiar habits from his old life to make his new life more enjoyable but he also wanted to learn more. He had a new world to explore and he needed to be the best he could possibly be.