Reeds for Steel: Two for Tea

Balin al'Brennan, Written by Misty
Posted on Thu, Jul 8, 2010 13:51 pm

The lathe did not feel like "an old friend" in his hand.  Despite his hours of drilling, he had focused on steps and swings, and he stood awkwardly, stretching as if he could wring exhausted days and tiring nights from his muscles.  One of the Gaidin had the habit of rousing the entire Barracks with a flaming bugle, and while Balin considered himself both charitable and not the sort to hold a grudge, he was flaming certain that the Creator would find a cozy corner of Shayol Ghul for the bastard.  Just as soon, Balin reasoned, as he could kill the man.  Hopefully by wringing his neck with that flaming horn.  The violence – both emotional and physical – of his thoughts surprised him, and he warily shoved them away.  Being a little taller than average in Deven Ride meant he'd learned to be careful, and the skill demanded in his father's forge meant he'd learned to be patient as well, but daily, he was reminded that these were lessons he should not value here.  Patience here meant a cold bowl of water for bathing and caution was seen as an insult – and compared to the bulk of these men, Balin's frame was sorely lacking.

So he tried harder, trained longer, pushed himself.  It couldn't help him here, with rapid-fire strings of commands pouring from Elaryl's lips, but he strained, pressing onward, not letting himself stop after a failure, merely shouldering his lathe and grimly shoving himself through the next sequence.  He didn't make as many errors this lesson as he had last, but he was still grievously behind some of the more smug students.  Pushing back the thought that they would, in turn, be lost behind an anvil, he forced himself to think only of his body and the motions that it needed to make.  His mind found a quiet groove in which it floated, completely divorced from intrusive thoughts.  When Elaryl called a halt to the drilling, he was startled.

He had practiced the stances she called for, of course: he had even practiced making sequences of them, as awkward as that was.  He sensed there was some basic lesson he was unaware of, and so, her plunge into sword forms was a revelation.  There was more to swordplay than he had suspected, but he sensed it would never be something he depended on as easily as the staff or the bow.  Yet, it was required, as no other weapon was, and so, he would do his best.  Not even for Cerawyn, he reflected, surprised by his new selfishness, but for himself.  Maybe it was true that he'd been bullied, chivvied, and finally dropped before the Tower as a naughty cat was returned to her sandbox with the evidence of her crime to tutor her in what must be done there, but he hadn't hopped insolently back out again or taken the chance that Cerawyn and the Aes Sedai had offered him – the chance to go back home again and play the victim.

It wasn't in his personality, anyway.

He chanted answers with the other men, refocusing his mind on swordplay.  Then, Elaryl stepped back, and Balin's eyes narrowed as she slid the sword from its sheath, rotating it into one of the five stances that they had learned.  He had no sheath, but along with the twenty other lathes held by her pupils, Balin did his best to imitate her.  Training moved so rapidly that keeping up seemed to be an almost impossible task, but he'd manage.  He'd just have to try harder.  Begin earlier.  Go to bed later.  Sighing, he thought about bed even now, and shook his dark head.  Best not to consider what you couldn't have.  Except it was a very, very seductive thought.  Bugger the candlelight, roses, wine, and women – he'd give his left hand for six hours of uninterrupted sleep!

Reflecting that the Training Grounds had not been at all salubrious for his language, Balin grimaced and watched the demonstrations of forms.  Leopard in the Tree was high – like its name suggested – and Boar Rushes Down the Mountain did exactly that, harnessing the power of gravity with a sublime menace.  Arc of the Moon was the higher slice, and Black Pebbles on Snow he could only remember mnemonically by thinking that pebbles were lower than the moon.  He would have to work on that.  Tower of Morning went straight up, at least, making its name…sensible…as poetry went, anyway – and what was it with men and fans?  The Courtier Taps His Fan?  Balin snorted through his nose but mimicked the motion as exactly as he could.  It was all clumsy, ridgid and unyielding, but he could, he thought, see sense in some of the positioning.  The arms, in Tower of Morning, for instance – they lifted to protect the head, neck, and central chest. 

He was still puzzling over the basics when the drill ended, and the class turned into a kicked antheap.  Squirming in embarrassment as the men passed him by, choosing friends, choosing those who knew more of swords, he frowned hopelessly.  The Mayener woman, her curls dark and enticing, gave him a measuring glance.  "Choose a woman then," she suggested, gesturing to the gaggle of girls in uniform.  Balin opened his mouth to protest – Cerawyn would skin him – but she had bounced off, separating two men whose spar was turning into a grudgematch, complete with kicking sand and punches thrown.  It seemed everyone was paired off now, anyway: sidling closer to the lone young woman, standing irritably alone in the central courtyard, Balin knuckled his brow.

"I think it's just you and me now," he said, and apology crept into his voice.  "I'm Balin al'Brennan.  Of Andor," he threw in, and her gaze sharpened, slanted eyes raking over him.  "In the southern parts, in the Mountains of Mist, we aren't tall as Aielmen and fair-haired," Balin answered, crossing his arms.  He hadn't known the girl two minutes, and already she thought him a liar!  Dark blood flushed  his neck and cheeks as he shifted, offering his hand.  She took it diffidently, mumbled that her name was Zeera, and tilted her head toward the far side of the courtyard, which was both empty and blessedly shaded by a tall tree that threw its shade in a wide pool across the even paving stones.

"After you," he said, with all the gallantry he could muster.  Of course, in just a moment, he was going to hit her.  What use courtesy in the face of that truth? 

But some habits died very hard indeed.

————————————-

I assume I don't need to write from Zeera's point of view.  Please let me know if that's a false assumption…

In reply to Reeds for Steel: Part Three: Forms and a Bit of Action[show]/[hide]

Elaryl made her way one last time—for now—to her reserved yard, arms once again loaded with practice lathes, relishing the warmth of the sun on her face. After the last class, when she had stood in the rain for the better part of an hour barking steps, cuts, and stances at her students, the dry warmth of today was bliss. There would be no rain today—the skies had not a single cloud marring their perfect blue. Perhaps she would trade sunburn for soaked clothing, but the burn would soon turn to the warm bronze ubiquitous to the Training Yards, full of students who spent most of their lives outdoors. The last lesson of her Trainees’ Basic Swords class would be action-packed—relatively. They would finally learn a few forms and get the chance to put them to use. Many of her students were already assembled—she had fallen asleep after her twin blades with Talaban which started every day at four hours before sunrise, which at this time of year was incredibly early indeed. Somehow she had awoken in time to get the practice lathes and be only a few minutes late, but even she had beaten some of the latecomers. She dropped the lathes in their usual fence-side position and waited for the stragglers to drift in. She instructed her students to pick up a lathe, and began this lesson much like the last, with drills of footwork, stances, and various cuts weaving into increasingly difficult patterns. She was glad to see that some of the Trainees had been practicing since the last class, keeping up with her demands and executing the movements correctly. A few had obviously not picked up a lathe since they had put theirs down at the end of last class; those she would need to have a word with. The Tower expected all Trainees to be proficient with a sword, whether they liked it or not, and as a Gaidin’s life was full of things he or she was expected to do whether they liked it or not, they should get used to it now. After a little more than a quarter hour of drills, Elaryl held up her hand. “In this last lesson, you will learn a very few forms. These are simple forms, really codified versions of many of the cuts I have already been asking you to perform. There are many, many forms—well over one hundred. Today you will learn five, along with Unfolding and Folding the Fan, which are usually used for unsheathing and sheathing the sword—although they are not exclusive to this purpose. Let’s review our stances, as all forms originate in one of the five stances we have learned, and end in another. By stringing these forms and stances together, like beads on a string, we create seamless, smooth sequences of movement.”  Elaryl had recently been questioning this line of thought, at least the necessity of forms originating and ending in codified stances and the rigid teaching that the stances must match, a product of her training with Talaban. But these students—at least many of them—were young and inexperienced. Best to teach them the accepted standard, and if they, like her, chose sword as their specialty later they could explore these philosophies for themselves. As Elaryl named the stances, she circulated throughout the Trainees and corrected this one’s positioning of the sword, that one’s weight, that one’s alignment. She also asked the Trainees questions: what kind of cuts will most likely originate from Rahien’Val? Downward. What type from Ji’Val? Most likely upward, especially cuts with a diagonal path. Finally she was satisfied with their comprehension of the stances. She planted her feet in the basic stance, right hand gripping Anarië’s hilt. “Unfolding the Fan.” She smoothly unsheathed her sword, continuing the movement into a horizontal stroke and ending in Los’Val. “You see how the unsheathing motion can be continued into a stroke—by unsheathing your sword, you can also deflect an enemy’s attack. Now, you don’t have sheathes, obviously, but you can still practice the form. A sheath and live blade will change how this form is executed, so you will want to practice this form again when you have a live blade and sheath. Watch.” Elaryl settled into Leopard in the Tree, in the basic stance with both hands on the hilt, leaning slightly forward onto the balls of her feet. “We begin in this stance—called Leopard in the Tree—and when we’re reading, the blade is smoothly slid out of the sheath and into an arc, ending, for example, in Los’Val.” She once again evaluated her students as they attempted the form. Many were sloppy; others had obviously performed this form a thousand times, even if it had not had a name for them. She repeated the process with the five forms that the Trainees were to learn that day, naming the form and demonstrating, breaking the form down into individual pieces, and moving among the students, watching them execute the form, correcting them, praising them, asking questions to make them think about the execution. “Arc of the Moon. A simple, clean, horizontal stroke aiming to remove the opponent’s head. It begins in Los’Val, travels to the neck and slices. It ends in Taer’Val or, alternatively, Leopard in the Tree. “Black Pebbles on Snow. Very similar to Arc of the Moon; rather than aiming to behead the opponent, however, this form is directed at the ribs. This begins in Ji’Val, producing a very powerful backhand effect as the blade swings from pointing backwards to slicing horizontally through the ribs. It ends in Taer’Val, as does Arc of the Moon. “Onto vertical cuts; Tower of Morning. An upward slash, starting in low Mosiev’Val and travelling up through the midline of the opponent’s body. Tower of Morning ends in Rahien’Val, a stance where you do not wish to linger. Your entire body is open at this point, and vulnerable. It’s best to quickly finish Tower of Morning with another form. One is the Courtier Taps His Fan; an extremely common sequence, however, is Tower of Morning finishing with the Boar Rushes Down the Mountain. “The Boar Rushes Down the Mountain begins in Rahien’Val and ends in Mosiev’Val, basically reversing Tower of Morning. It is a powerful downward slash, but it can change mid-swing very quickly, morphing into a horizontal or diagonal slash, for example, making it a very versatile form and one which can be used to surprise an opponent if done well. “The Courtier Taps His Fan also begins in Rahien’Val, which is why it is a good choice to follow Tower of Morning. It also ends in Mosiev’Val, but rather than aiming for the opponent’s body it is a powerful, downward blow meant to split your opponent’s head. A very potent, efficient form to know. “Finally, end with Folding the Fan. Your blade should arc from whatever guard you are in to be sheathed.” She demonstrated and nodded as they all followed. It was easy now—but as soon as the inexperienced ones got their hands on a live blade and sheath, it would be a completely different story. The smooth sheathing and unsheathing performed by experienced swordsmen was surprisingly difficult. Elaryl went through the forms one more time, then began yet another drill, randomly naming the forms the students had just learned, giving them a chance to practice the movements and learn the names. As the drill continued, she began stringing one or two of the forms together, allowing the students to practice flowing from one form to another, hopefully without stopping. As the drilling continued, two other female Trainees, both mid-rank, joined Elaryl at the fence. Serai and Veryle were a bit younger than Elaryl, but were both accomplished with the sword and would be helping to supervise the next portion of the lesson. She nodded a hello at them and continued announcing forms. Finally she held up her hand. “Good. You’ll finally get a chance to use these lathes, now, as they were intended to be used. Please pair up—if you are experienced, try to find a partner who has a similar amount of skill. If you are new to swords, please find someone else who is new.” Her Trainees paired up, some eagerly grabbing one another, others quietly standing until someone else finally made the first move. Eventually, though, the negotiations were complete, and partners were found. She was glad she had an even number of students for this lesson; odd numbers were a nightmare to arrange. “Good. We have this yard, and the two adjoining. Please spread out with your partners; we are going to spar—” Immediately the noise level in the yard jumped, an exciting buzzing filling the air as excited Trainees gasped and commented and giggled nervously. She raised her voice. “—carefully! I will be supervising this yard, Serai will supervise the yard to the right, and Veryle the left.” She indicated her friends. Serai was a Mayener, with bouncy dark curls, grey eyes, and a typical Mayener charm and beauty that would no doubt distract the male Trainees. She had, perhaps, not been the best choice for this assignment… Veryle, in contrast, was almost plain, straight blonde hair gathered in a long braid down her back, large brown eyes surveying the Trainees under thick black lashes that saved her from being completely unremarkable. Elaryl liked the woman—Veryle saw her plainness as an asset, rather than a curse. While Serai could never hope to blend into a crowd, Veryle was a master at it. “This will not be an epic battle, or a dramatic duel. Move through your forms slowly—particularly if you are inexperienced, spar as if you are in molasses. This is an exercise in using these forms practically, reacting to another’s movements, letting your sequences flow naturally, not winning or losing. If you have more experience, you may be a tad bit more cavalier—but remember that you are in a yard with other people, and that many are beginners. Keep their safety in mind as well as your own. Try to stick with the forms we have learned rather than drawing on your past experience and training. We are starting over from the beginning here.” Elaryl eyed all the Trainees seriously, trying to impress her warnings on them. “Anyone who puts another’s safety at risk will be reprimanded. The Master of Arms is a busy man, and I suggest you take all the care you can during your training here to avoid having to interrupt him.” She studied the pairs, then split them evenly among the three yards. Serai had the least experience with the sword, so none of the more advanced pairs were placed in her yard; Veryle and Elaryl took the remaining beginners, Veryle with one advanced pair and Elaryl with two. Hopefully this would be an uneventful afternoon—a few bruises and even a little bleeding was acceptable; lost teeth and eyes were not.
OOC: Ok, last part is up. I apologize that it’s late, I’m trying to move AND go on a 2 week vacation on Monday. This response will be a thread rather than one post; you will either pair up with another writer and RP your characters’ spar, or you will spar with an MUC (made-up character). For example, perhaps Krath and Marteol would spar, while Aladis sparred with his friend Elenna. I would recommend RPing with another writer, just because it’s often more fun to interact with another writer and this is good training for you in real life as a writer since you’ll have to write fights with another writer at some point, but it’s not required. If you would like to pair up with another student, you might want to try to arrange it by email or chat first so they know what you’re planning and you can plan your posts. Whichever route you take, RP or MUC, you each need to post an initial 500-word post detailing your character’s responses to the forms and deciding on their partner. You will then write an additional 500-word post detailing the spar and your character’s reactions to their partner’s actions. This is why I say you might want to arrange your spar OOC through email or chat. For example, a partner RP might progress like this: Character 1 Intro Post: Reaction to forms, partnering up Character 2 Intro Post: Reaction to forms, partnering up, first portion of the spar Character 1 Spar Post: Responding to Character 2’s first movements in the spar, furthering the action of the spar Character 2 Spar Post: Responding to the further action, ending the spar This way you each initiate some of the spar, and you each respond to another writer’s interpretation of the fight and of the characters. You can choose either character to “win,” if your character is really advanced enough to have a win/lose spar; if not, just have the spar be an exploration of what the character has learned. If someone does win, keep in mind the realities of the fight: who has more experience? Who has experience, but is out of their element (for example, usually uses a shield and now can’t use it, didn’t know these forms before, etc)? Consider things like that when you write your spar. I will have little to no internet access for the next two weeks, so if you have a question, ask me by noon on Monday: becky.wotrp@gmail.com. This means you have until July 9 to write this last portion of the lesson; you must respond to Part Two before you respond to Part Three. Once you have responded to Part Two you may move on. Once I come back I will read everyone’s responses and get the list of those who get credit to Bri. Thanks everyone, and good luck! Becky

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Replies to Reeds for Steel: Two for Tea

  • Reeds for Steel: And Tea for Two — Balin al'Brennan, Fri, Jul 9, 2010 01:01 am