#sp:gauntlets

Interested in the students’ newfound affinity for punching things, the Projectionist offers one last challenge for anyone brave enough to take it. An illusory bear is your true final challenge, and she won’t be helping you this time. The catch? You must fight your foe bear-fisted (she cackles at her own pun as she sics the bear on you). [Grants Gauntlets +1]

Ares had made his return to the academy that very evening, under cover of darkness. Far too late for classes or even dinner, yet still to early for slumber, he made his way to the training grounds. His traditional haunt, quieter than usual thanks to the late hour was comforting to retire too at the end of a long day. Unsheathing his blade, dark eyes watched Mystletainn glimmer faintly by the light of the moon. It’s weight was familiar in his hands like an old friend, like homecoming. Sword raised, he swung it down at the training dummy in a precise arc before dropping the blade in surprise.

There was another here, tonight. Or rather, a pair. One he recognised quickly as the professor of the Blue Lion’s house. The other was...

The other was a bear.

Titanic in size with ferocious teeth and claws, it’s eyes feral and deranged it bore down upon the professor with chaotic swipes. He found himself running before he could even think to pick up his sword. What the hell was wrong with the archbishop, letting a grizzly giant loose in the academy? Up close to it, face to face with it’s hot, putrid breath flooding his senses, Ares realises he has no way to fight this thing back. Well no way except his fists. Which would be ridiculous - completely foolish!

He pulls his right arm back and takes a swing for the beasts nose before following up with another punch in the jaw. He felt the sickening crunch beneath his hands that echoed in the training grounds.

Somehow his foolhardy plan seemed to work - the bear backs away, recoiling in pain. It growled and groaned, stumbling backwards to protect itself. Retreating from the prey that dared fight back. Not for long though. A wild beast will retort with even more violence, this he knows. Fueled by adrenaline, Ares grabbed Byleth’s arm and pulled her back with him, creating some more distance between the pair and their would be predator.

“Professor? What the hell is that doing here!?”

Are you stuck with glass bones and paper skin? Sick of just having pedestrian magic to your name? The professors are holding a special class for the squishiest of mages, clerics, and archers, where they may learn close-quarters self-defense if they’re ambushed by an enemy. [Grants Gauntlets +1]

The self-defence session hosted by the professors had turned out to be more popular than they had first anticipated. Apparently, the Academy housed far more feeble but determined warriors than the organisers had accounted for, and demand had quickly outgrown supply.

As such, some of the more capable students and Knights had been recruited to offer their assistance. Whilst Stahl wasn't particularly gifted at close-quarters fighting, he was enthusiastic, patient and willing to help, and so had scrawled his name on the volunteer sheet.

The student he had been paired with was slight in build and appeared, at first impression, to be quiet by nature. The pair stood facing one another, unencumbered by armour and weapons; to begin with, the group would be practicing with bare fists and focus pads. Stahl slipped the mitts onto his hands and held them up, offering an easy smile to put the trainee at ease.

"Ready to get started?" he asked kindly.