They haven't had the space. Going out into the salt mines was all the practice he'd been able to get. And now, with all this land, it seems he isn't the first person to have the idea.

Eleven's happy to watch for the little he catches, admiring the way Archeval can call up debris and combat it. He's obviously quite skilled, and while the exercise and chance to practice forms surely is nice, he finds himself suddenly itching for a spar. Of course, there's an obvious problem, but there's also a very obvious solution.

He grins. "No, but... I have two swords, if you want one."