It'd taken him quite some time to get used to using his off hand. Especially seeing as how the hammer he wielded wasn't designed from use in one hand, let alone an off hand. There'd always been a bit of a disconnect within even his sects while he was under the Church. When they'd actually sent a messenger for the Church looking for able bodied fighters from the village, they'd laughed at him when he said he used a great hammer. "I'd be surprised if you could throw that hammer as far as I believe you, child," the cleric had claimed when he'd walked up.<br/><br/>But, after the message was put out that the Church had been looking for fighters, Carmine and Ocieros both knew it'd be the only way for him to gain his own name. Neris had only been 5 years of age when he'd set out across Ocrea to become a Templar of the church. A small smile crept on his face as he thought back to when she was that young. Everything seemed so different back then. War wasn't what he was known for, and his achievements didn't drag them out of the mud they were in. "You know child, not everyone will be a scarecrow when they fight you. And as much as I hope you don't have to use your training, I'm not teaching you just to defile scarecrows."<br/><br/>Using the bell shaped head of his hammer, it was easy to divot it under her as she'd come at him. However, the longer they trained, he could see she was getting tired. The sun had dipped down past the horizons, the dusk filtering in over the trees in the forest. "If you get lucky there Issi, we might be able to snag you a good piece of that roast before Carmine gets her grubby paws on it. Grey beard tells me often how we need to get you fattened up." She was obviously tired, so he hoisted her up over his shoulders as they walked inside, letting her rest for a bit, a good day's training behind them.