Both Master and Mateo were well on their way out of Adeluna City, their blacksmith's shop all packed up in crates and loaded onto their cart. As the afternoon began to set, Master was currently away, having spotted something of interest to him off the road and had sternly instructed him to remain with the Aeglos the sturdy draft horse, Imp, the impetuous mule, and the cart. Master had glared, threatened, and even slyly insinuated that he'd take away his beautiful new blade if Mateo decided to wander, so Mateo, clinging to the long wooden box in which his new sword was held, promised to stay put.

It had been a few days since they'd left, and Master had already given him some advice on how to practice with the sword. With nothing else to do, he tied both Aeglos and Imp to a nearby tree a little ways off the main road and set up his training dummy, eyeing it with his blunt, cheap broadsword in hand. Sword fighting took dedication and years of hard work, something Mateo was no stranger to in the forge, but as he practiced…..it was clear to anyone who passed them by on the road that Mateo's form was awful. The sword slipped from his terrible grip more often than not, his posture was completely wrong, his footwork was abominable, and every hit he got in jarred his entire body due to his terrible form, among many other things, and all of it combined made it more liable for the boy to injure himself than get any decent practice in.

The worst part about it all was that Mateo looked, for all intents and purposes, utterly dedicated to his practice. He threw himself into the practice with zealous devotion, cementing bad habits as time passed by.

Gimli walked without purpose, aimlessly but with direction. He was following the road, and that was direction enough. At least for him it was. In in front of him, a good distance away however, stood tethered to a tree a mule and a a draft horse. Both seemed unhappy about their current predicaments. But what were two such “fine” animals doing out in the open woods with no owner in sight? It was odd, but not to peculiar, as the owner probably could have set up camp nearby. Probably. As Gimli got closer, he saw that he was correct in saying that their owner had set up camp, but as to what he was doing, now that truly surprised him. There in the clearing, was a young human fighting a training dummy. And losing, by the signs of his skill. Or at least he would probably lose if the dummy were alive.

Smirking lightly to himself, Gimli loosened his closed fist open and relaxed. A small flame grew in his palm, then it got bigger, and bigger, until it was the size of his head, and then Gimli aimed. His target, the training dummy, would be easily replaceable, and it was also an easy target. Lobbing the ball of flame and fire, Gimli watched it fly strategically through the sky. 

The dummy burst into flames, with specks of charred dummy things bursting off of it due to the speed of the impact. Watching the boy jump with surprise, Gimli stepped out of the shadows with a sly grin on his face and a fireball in his hand. “Your form is off, and I’m surprised that you are even capable of holding that sword for longer than a minute with that grip!” Gimli said. “Mind if I have a look?…”

He'd been practicing with his usual intense dedication to his practice, blind to all else but how he moved against the training dummy (and regrettably not getting any better) when all of a sudden, the only thing in his vision was a blazing inferno that spat out lumps of charcoal and flaming straw, and fear clenched at his lungs as he jumped away from it with a shout of surprise. He whirled around at the tall man who approached him with fire in his hand, and Mateo brandished his broadsword against him, his teeth clenched. He sized up the stranger with his sly grin and immediately deemed him dangerous. Maybe he was after Master's cart, and just decided to have some fun before he stole what was valuable and burned the rest. Mateo looked edgewise at the cart, and moved himself to stand in front of it protectively.

"Does destroyin' personal property count as introductions round here?" Mateo bit out, his stance wide and his grip tight on his hilt. "'M' not stupid enough t' hand a violent stranger my only weapon so they c'n do as they please."

Violent Stranger? Violent?! "Ha ha ha. Its a training dummy, and if you need one so badly I will make you one right now. However, I am sorry for startling you like that. It was rude and unprecedented. You were practicing so hard and with such focus that I deemed it the only way to grasp your attention without you cleaving my head off accidentally.

BOY, you are lacking in a strong grip, and your style is going to get you killed. Here, take this branch…" Gimli said, while ripping a thick branch off of a tree by burning through the part of it closest to the trunk. He walked forwards three paces and planted the branch into the ground. He conjured a ball of earth and threw it around the branch, in order to more securely root it in place. he then backed up once more, and said: "I understand that you do not trust me, but i am only trying to help you learn. What you currently are doing will get you killed, and when I am done, you will be able to fend off attacks from more than one opponent with ease. My name is Gimli Thranduil, and I hope that you will start to trust me, as i definitely do not have need of your possessions, seeing as to how i could have taken them while you were attacking your training dummy. 

Now please, try to chop this branch into two parts with your, broadsword, I presume. Show me, that you can trust me, at least for an hour…"

Mateo's eyes narrowed in annoyance at the stranger's laughter, and he didn't lower his sword a bit. "Did it occur to ye that I might've thought that thing important? If y' knew how annoying it was t' get that training dummy in th' first place, y' might've not been so quick to turn it into a pile a' cinder. 'Rude' is th' least of it. It belonged to me, and y' had no right to go setting it ablaze without so much as a by-your-leave. Any other spell would'a done, or even a shout to get my attention." He angled himself even more in front of the cart when the stranger moved to go and rip a branch off of a tree and planted it in the ground like a stake, which was something that made him even angrier. If he insisted on using it as practice, then what on earth was wrong with the last one!

So his name was Gimli? He frowned. "Mateo." He replied quickly, if they were doing introductions. "There's nothing wrong with my grip, ser, but thank ye for your 'concern'. Yer certainly right that I don't trust y' as far as I can throw y'. And anyway, what's an elf doin' with a dwarvish name? Don't they despise each other?"

Gimli stood impatiently waiting for the boy, who was called Mateo, to swing. Instead, he was asked the question that would obviously lead to confusion. His name. “My name. Hmm, how to explain it. Gimli originally was an elvish name, and only within the last two hundred years have the dwarves been using it too. It means something in both languages. And that’s all that I know, because, well, I was raised by humans…” Gimli said nervously, as he did not know what to except from the youth with the sword in front of him.

So the youth will not strike the branch first. That’s annoying. “Fine then. Watch me. But be prepared to get more branches.” Gimli stated. Pulling out his fighting knife/dagger, he twirled it in his hand and then stepped forwards. Bringing the knife up at the diagonal, Gimli swung. The branch was cleaved into to pieces, the cut so straight and smooth, the two parts could be placed one on top of the other and back into their original form without anyone noticing. Then he cut one of the parts of the  branch once more into two parts. He leaned over, picked up one of the smallest parts, and threw it into the air. It had an arc, but it’s fligt was interrupted by Gimli’s dagger as it was thrown into the piece, once again - halving it. 

When he was finished his little show, he grabbed a new branch seeing as to how the youth had not moved an inch. Planting it firmly into the ground Gimli said: “Now it’s your turn. Show me what you can do. Please…”

Mateo listened to his explanation of his name with a frown, and he watched the performance of skill with a scowl and a flicker of envy that he quickly smothered. He'd get to that level of skill one day, if he practiced enough. He didn't move, but the tip of his sword lowered somewhat as he watched, and he was still quite obviously wary and suspicious of the elf. He did just explode his training dummy for no good reason, other than for amusement.

"If ye insist, I'll go after th' branch." Mateo said in a surly voice, taking a few steps closer to it. "But mind you, my Master will be returnin' any moment, an' he's a powerful elf that doesn't take to strangers. At all. In addition, y' owe me a new training dummy." His feet shuffled uncomfortably in the grass that still smouldered with a few embers here and there. The latter part of his statement was the truth, but the former….he had no idea when Master would be returning, and the fact that Mateo was alone with a dangerous fellow who could easily beat him in both fighting and magic made him nervous. His gaze slid to the thick branch. "Just givin' ye a fair warning."

He moved into a wide stance when facing the branch, his grip tight but incorrect on the hilt. He raised it up over his left shoulder and swung the broadsword, but it twisted in his grip so that the angle of the blade was too downturned, and when it hit the thick branch, it only clanged against it jarringly, sending a tremor up his arms. He gritted his teeth and quickly raised the sword again, and this time it managed to clumsily splinter the branch in half.

He lowered his sword and stared at the branch with reddened cheeks and a deep frown. Master would've told his ear off for an hour if he'd seen that shoddy display.