Unconsciously, Pytyar's hand remained on the pommel of his sword.  But, it was his "off" hand, so no threat.  "Ah, very new," he said with a smile, "Our practice field is enchanted.  Those three were very good illusions, called up as practice targets.  They fight like normal people, at a given degree of skill, but they only cause bruises at the worst, hurt egos more often."  He sounded almost like a father praising his son.<br/><br/>In fact, that was almost what he was, sort of.  He'd pushed to get he field made years ago, when he'd been a student.  Of course, he hadn't done any of the magical work himself, not being intersted in enchantment for the most part.  But, he had supervised the project and tested it from about midway through its completion.