Again, he drew back the long sword, ensuring his shoulders were squared over his hips and adjusted his grip. He knew he didn't have to do this again, but he knew if he wanted to get it right, he did indeed have to work at it until it was perfect. Switching from his dominant right hand to the left, he drew up his shoulder and pulled back his feet to a ninety degree angle before tipping the sword and following through with the hip slide motion. Torsten got it! For the first time in two hours, he finally managed to switch hands in mid strike! He nodded to himself, as if to give encouragement to keep going. He could do this- he would do this. 'If I try hard enough and stay determined, I can do what needs doing.' he thought firmly to himself. This wasn't about pressure, it was about the room for improvement that was always there.

If he could remember to keep his legs moving at the same time his shoulders were, then the maneuver would remain seamless. Mosse looked to his left and right, and moved over a few strides. He hadn't expected to see a lot of other soldiers putting in extra practice but it was more about positioning really. This time he raised the sword in both hands to shoulder level, ready to shift back to his right but heavy footfalls sounded out over the yard. Everyone instantly stopped and looked over at the man who entered. 

A loud, sharply commanding voice rang out and the lieutenant called them to order with haste. Instantly, Mosse and the other grouped soldiers stood tall at full attention. The battle hardened man stood in the middle, though his bearing and mien already shouted volumes without his saying a word. A mere look from the man was enough to have any of them scrambling to keep up. He respected the Lieutentant immensely, noting that the man never had to repeat himself or looked unsure of what to do or when to do it. 

Mosse heard Warren mention swimming and he nodded to himself, confirming the requirement but listening intently to the whole message before committing himself. He didn't wait to see if anyone else responded, he just automatically knew that this was what he wanted. The words more difficult seemed to be on a repeating echo in his mind so he stepped forward with alacrity. 

"I volunteer Sir."

As the first man, a young soldier by the name of Mosse, stepped forward to volunteer, Warren nodded to him. By coming forward, he seemed to encourage others to do so as well. Three more of the soldiers training individually stepped forward, and four who had been in the middle of group training. "I need two more." Warren said, glancing around at those that remained. No one else stepped forward, and Warren sighed. "So be it. Mr. Rains, Lord Kennedy," he motioned to two more soldiers from group training regimen and ushered them forward. "Can you both swim?"

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison.

"Then you'll join us." The two men nodded and joined the group of volunteers, standing in line in front of Warren. He began to speak up, then glanced around and found the rest of the men and women in the courtyard still watching. "Back to your exercises," he barked again, and waited until the eyes were no longer on his smaller group to continue. "Each of you will retrieve a pair of swimming suits and a spare set of clothes, you may leave your weapons behind. We will meet within the hour on the shore of Shadows Landing, to the left of the dock closest to the castle. Do not be late." Without any further explanation, he turned away from them. He began to walk away, but glanced in the direction of the medic. He stepped toward her and after an exchange of words, she passed the heavy bag of supplies to him. He draped it over his shoulder and held his hand out, allowing her to take the lead.

Together with the medic and his assistant, they exited the courtyard and left the castle, headed for Shadows Landing. It wasn't far, and the three arrived fairly quickly. Once there, Warren sat in the sand and removed his boots and socks, then his jacket and belt. He placed them all neatly in a pile by the bench where his assistant and the medic had taken a seat. The area, which was often full of civilian nobility and vendors, was much more sparse during the cold season, so besides a few bystanders here and there, they had much of the area to themselves.

With that, they waited for the soldiers to arrive.

Mosse tried to keep the frown from showing in his features, maintaining a tight hold of his condemning thoughts. For a Lord soldier of all people to purposely not volunteer, was flat out wrong. He'd been raised to the concept of Noblesse Oblige. If you have more of something than others do, it was your duty and obligation to use it in the care of others less fortunate. At that particular moment, Mosse felt the class difference strongly. He knew he shouldn't and his conscience wrestled with it, but the resentment would always be a part of the divide between noble and commoner. He was brought up that the community took care of each other, not hoarded resources from each other. Kennedy wasn't someone Mosse felt he would ever be close to. 

He kept his attention on the Lieutenant, retaining the instructions and quickly memorized them. But the tall young man's gaze flickered with distaste at Lord Kennedy as they moved to obey the orders. Not wasting another moment on selfish people, Mosse double timed it back to the barracks, stowed his weapon and changed with alacrity. Keeping a group awareness about him, he waited by the door until all of them had changed and they moved out in a solid unit. As always, he carefully adjusted his enormous stride to fit in with the group. 

Mosse was continually holding back what he could physically do when he was in a group, so no one got hurt by accident if he was too tall or too large. They rounded the bend as one and lined up at attention in front of Warren. The cold, damp area wasn't comfortable at all and he didn't know quite what was in store. It obviously involved cold and water which was guaranteed to be unpleasant at best and dangerous at worst. But it was why he was a soldier-to push himself to his limits. He worked to repress a shiver at the cool air and scant clothing, so he instead concentrated on observing the medic and hoping he wouldn't have need of their services. 

Jasper and the medic, affectionately deemed Mrs. Beth, sat in bundles on the bench. As they waited, Warren paced the beach. When the soldiers arrived, he was glad to see they had all arrived together and very much on time. "Place your spare clothes over by the bench there, next to mine. Neatly, please," he instructed as they drew closer. "Then line up here."

Once the soldiers were lined up in front of him, he took turns locking eyes with each one. The ocean was to their backs, the breeze coming off of the water would be hitting them there. It wasn't as strong as some days, so the loose sand wasn't pelting their skin and if they had paid much attention to the water as they arrived, they'd have seen that it was choppy, but few waves could be seen crashing out past the shore.

"I have been looking for new exercises to give all of you. When you do the same exercises over and over again, they begin to lose their effectiveness. Because of this, we must constantly challenge ourselves and our bodies to reach their fullest potential. That is why I have asked you all here today. As I'm sure you've already guessed, we will be swimming. I'll be breaking you up into two groups. We will do short relays and, in a way, you will be competing against each other. However, I want to make this very clear."

He turned, motioning to the older woman on the bench, who lifted her hand to wave at the soldiers. "Mrs. Beth is here as a precaution. I would prefer we not need her services. You know your bodies. If you feel that you cannot handle the cold or that you are struggling, you are to retreat to the shore immediately to warm yourself. None of you are expendable and pushing yourselves for the sake of pride will be unacceptable. This trial will determine whether or not other soldiers begin using this in regular exercises, so it is of the utmost importance that you are honest with me, and yourselves, about your ability to do this. Do you understand me?"

He watched to make sure that the words 'yes, sir!' came out of the lips of every soldier and when he was satisfied, he nodded. "Good. We'll start with fifty jumping jacks to warm ourselves before the swim." As the soldiers began, he did the exercises with them. When they were done, he looked to them once more. "Does anyone have any questions before we begin?"

Torsten listened and each of the soldiers obeyed quickly to line up and deposit their clothes on the bench and return to formation. There was no doubt it was chilly with the combination of scant swimsuits, the season and the slight breeze coming off the open water, but it wasn't unendurable-yet. He listened stolidly to the Lieutenant, taking in his explanations. 

The man before them didn't just command; he took the time to explain why they were doing what they did and Tor knew he could trust him because of that very reason. He obviously wasn't looking for blindly obedient people just following with an empty head. He'd included them in the plan and actively encouraged them to volunteer in the first place. It was a chance to step up, try your best and be part of that group feeling of unity that he enjoyed so much. It made him proud to be a dependable but thinking member of a strong group of men and women that would be trained well together.

He would very well have gone overboard to the point of pride, but Woodwick knew his soldiers and mentioned that very fact quickly. Tor knew he struggled to not be prideful and push himself too far, and he felt that he was most likely not the only one there who did so. A quick sideweays flick of his gaze at the soldiers around him definitely confirmed this. His own expression probably also gave away the same 'busted' thoughts. The Lieutenant's concern was obvious and it was another notch in his esteem for Woodwick. He'd taken the time and effort to explain and ensure future safety, which no one could ask for someone better to trust. This was why Tor loved being a soldier and would continue to do so. He knew without a single doubt that he could trust his superiors and they could trust him. That mutual safety and giving a hundred percent, like all the rest standing wiht you, was an unbeatable solidarity.

Tor's "Yes sir," was an almost instantaneous response. 

In unison, both Woodwick and his soldiers did their exercises and Tor loved it. He revelled in the sheer physical exertion, enoying the athleticism that was the center of his self-esteem. The soldier had seen other higher ups just stand and give orders, but not theirs. He joined in with them easily keeping pace and encouraging some of the slower soldiers to put some effort into it. At the man's offer of questions, Torsten asked,

"Sir, how long do you expect our immersion time to be? Will it be in extensive sets over all, or in individual bursts?"

The first soldier among them to speak up was one that he recognized and knew well enough by his reputation to be a hard worker, someone who put in more effort than asked. "It will be a combination of both," he replied. "For this first trial, nothing will be timed. I'm going to divide you into two teams of five. Each team will line up single file at the edge of the water. At the same time the first soldier in each group will swim to the markers ahead." He motioned out past them. If they turned to look toward the water, they'd see two floating, wooden objects held in place by anchors. They were about ten feet away from one another and about twenty-five meters from shore.

"You will swim to those wooden markers, touch them, and return. Upon your return, the next swimmer will enter the water and the process will repeat until every soldier has gone. I would like for each soldier in each group to make the relay twice, but we'll see how everyone does on the first run. I'll be swimming out with the first set of you and then returning to the shore, where I will remain to keep an eye on all of you in case you need aid. Are there any more questions?"

No one else piped up, and he nodded. "Good. Then split yourselves down the middle. Mr. Mosse, your team will line up on the left. Lord Kennedy, your team will be on the right. The rest of you line up behind them." As the groups prepared themselves, Warren returned to the bench by Jasper and Mrs. Beth and pulled his undershirt free of his pants, removing it and folding it neatly in his pile. Then did the same with his pants, piling them on top until what was left was the equivalent of a pair of shorts that covered down to just above his knees. His assistant, Lord Gerard, looked more embarrassed by seeing all of the soldiers in their swim-wear than the medic. The older woman was completely unfazed by the human body at this point and the scars along Warren's upper body neither surprised or horrified her.

Warren rolled his shoulders as he walked to Tor's left, putting around ten feet between himself and the left-most group of soldiers. The water splashed over his feet and he had to remind himself that Regan and Bex did this kind of thing regularly. "Ready soldiers?" He waited to hear their answers. "Go."

Wading into the water, he began swimming once it was deep enough to do so.

Twenty five meters was about thirteen of his body length and for a round trip, that was twenty six total. Torsten immediately starting lining up on the left before it sunk in--leader of a team! A chance to prove himself and work harder! A dimple in his left cheek nearly began to form as he almost smiled, before regaining his composure. But his enthusiasm had raised considerably for the new project ahead. 

He turned to his group and started shucking his clothes as he spoke quietly.

"Two things. Firstly, it's about thirteen body lengths, twenty-six total, at my height, to reach the mark, so a little more than that for those less than six feet. Let's reach the mark while adjusting to the sudden cold temperature. Then shove out a burst of speed to reach the shore on the way back. It will warm you, but not use up all your physical resources. If he wants to time the second one, we'll have our reserves at the ready."

Clad in only their swimsuits like the other group, they all watched the Lieutenant disrobe, but no one said anything out loud about his scars. Their eyes did linger over them, each person curious. Calling their attention back, Mosse continued on in a quiet whisper,

"Second thing, we're in an odd numbered group, so use it. On the second relay, we can take that fifth person as a wild card if we're too slow on the timing. Do your best at this, it's great to compete. But no pushing yourself before the second relay as it serves no good purpose."

All eyes were on Woodwick as they nodded their readiness and headed toward the water. Mosse quickly noticed that he'd have a ways to go in dragging his legs to wade through the water enough to actually swim. The taller ones might have a reach advantage, but shorter ones would get to swim sooner which would give a speed advantage!

'The fifth one should be a shorter person then, as a strategic wild card for speed.' he thought, finally able to dive into deep enough water. The icy water smacked his body into an alert state, like nothing else in the world and he paused for what felt like a long second before continuing. Mosse dug his chin in and put his face down to pull along the current and steamed straight ahead. His long arms reached rhythmically as his legs kicked forward finding a swimming pace that was similar to jogging.

The floating wooden board was in sight so Mosse launched out an arm to slap it loudly, tucked his legs under to rebound back toward the shore. At almost the exact same time, he heard Woodwick beside him, just ten feet away and making his swimming pace for pace! Mosse extended his arms and straightened his spine, welcoming the Lieutenant's challenge.

The water was frigid and jarring at first. It wasn't so bad on his feet and legs, but when he submerged his back into it, his whole body shivered. He couldn't deny that the adrenaline created from the sudden temperature change in his body create a kind of thrill. It was more than just the drive to reach the end. He had to focus intently on his task and be constantly aware of how his body felt, which drew his mind away from any and every other distraction. The only thing he allowed himself to focus on otherwise was his hearing, making sure that if he was called to for help by one of the other soldiers, he could assist quickly. But, for the first two at least, that did not seem to be an issue.

He did not have a wooden plank to reach, but he'd gone to the area where the others were and turned there. As he did, he saw Mosse and Kennedy reach their destinations and turn. That assured him, and pushed him back to the shore successfully. He and Kennedy arrived about the same time, with Mosse ahead of them by a foot or so. As they walked back up into the sand, Warren motioned his head. "Second set!" He ordered, and the next two soldiers in line waded in to begin their swim.

He drug his hand over his head, clearing the salt water from his eyes and pushing his hair up so it wouldn't stick to his forehead. The air was cold but not nearly as cold as the water and having just emerged from it, he almost felt warm. That feeling would drain away soon, of that he was sure, but he turned back to the ocean to watch the other swimmers as they made their way out. "Lord Kennedy, to the middle, keep an eye on them," he said, ushering the young noble between the lines of still-waiting soldiers. "Mr. Mosse, come here a moment," he asked of the young man, motioning his head toward himself.

"You did well. How did you feel? What do you think of the exercise?"

The soldier waded out of the ocean, shook off the water like a dog and tilted his head to get some extra water out of his ear. He put up both hands to rub vigorously over his face and took stock. It felt warmer in the air, but it didnt't stop the goosebumps from rising on his exposed skin. At first the water had been a shocking jolt, especially to his stomach and groin, but then it was a heightened state of alertness that was invigorating. Mosse was feeling more energized at the brief exercise and the warmer air made him feel ready for another round. Cautiously he moved his fingers around, noting they were numb as well as his toes. He dugs his toes into the sand, testing for temperature and sensation. After a few minutes, the numbness left both his fingers and toes so there was no lasting damage. 

The Lieutenant called him over and Mosse nodded politely at the commendation and he answered,

"I'm feeling pretty cold sir, but good overall. I like that it levels the field for everyone as an exercise. Taller people can swim stronger, while shorter people can swim faster. It's a solid way to sharpen survival reflexes and force you to pay closer attention to what your body can handle besides the end goal."