1st IPPT Expedition: Failed!

Oh well...I took my IPPT yesterday. The result? Failed...

How bad...I got very good scores for my static stations:

Sit-ups: 37
Standing Broad Jump: 234cm
Chin-ups: 11
Shuttle Run: 9.8 seconds
2.4km Run: Dropped out at 5th round (due to nausea and I was getting ready to puke a few times)

The PTI who looked at my scores, advised that I train up on my running before attempting the test again.

How right is he...I have largely been too slack with my physical fitness for this half year or so, what with work and studies. I guess I have to "re-learn" how to jog and run...from the basics...sigh...

June Preview...

Ok, I finished my exams...sad to say that this time it is disastrous for me...sigh...am i going to take 5 years just to complete this scrap of paper where I don't learn anything much?

Oh well, June will be a transitional month for me, what with finding a job and working in temp positions, catching up with old and new friends.

And here I have for you, a short preview of my upcoming plot (to be co-written with my Swedish Lone Wolf ERPG member)

~~~

Death by stoning and burning in fire, like a pagan, would have been the fate of this stranger, as in the more remote and less civilised regions of Sommerlund, where justice is rough but quickly meted out. And no one would have known of the consequences of this, if not for the intervention of a certain individual.

This was Jadin Arrow, also unofficially the messenger for the Order of the Kai. Currently on leave, he had passed his duties to Silver Knife, who had been learning to take on the role of messenger as well, both within and without the Monastery. For now, Jadin Arrow had returned to his home village where he had grown up.

Realising the furious brutality and the savageness of his fellow villagers’ actions, he strode forward, quarterstaff in hand.

“Stop! In the name of Kai and Ishir! Cease this madness!”

Upon seeing a Kai in their midst, the villagers stopped. One of them had been about to throw a burning torch into the dry wood at the robed stranger’s feet. Jadin Arrow went forward and demanded the torch, which the burly man, a farmhand, grudgingly handed over. Jadin Arrow’s grandfather (for his parents had died in the Darklands War) was the village priest and was respected throughout the village.

“What is this? Why are you doing this? Why are all of you condemning this person to death without trial? You know this is wrong!”

“He’s a spy.” Someone within the crowd countered in reply.

“Aye, no, he’s a witch.”

Jadin Arrow looked for the speakers, but none spoke, although the faces of the villagers are flushed with embarrassment.
“Spy or not, witch or otherwise, this man deserves at least a chance to defend himself! Will you let a person die without at least investigating his claims of innocence?” Jadin Arrow questioned, his green eyes scrutinizing every one of his childhood neighbours.