Reeds for Steel: Dance of Death
Marteol Anduan, Written by Phillip
Posted on Wed, Jun 23, 2010 23:00 pm
The next day on which the sword lesson in which he had enrolled himself was scheduled to take place was a wholly unpleasant one. The sky was a flat and unrelieved gray, lowering over Tar Valon threateningly. The air was damp, thick and close, and Marteol found himself to be sweating heavily, whether or not he wore a coat or went in his shirt-sleeves, and so he had resigned himself to his misery, and he was contemplating shaving his beard. Despite that, he found himself moving with an energy born of eagerness as he made his way through the training grounds towards the spot where he the class was once again scheduled to be held. He was not early to arrive, but he was not among the stragglers who found their way into the fenced off enclosure just in time to snatch up a lathe and join in.
Today, Elaryl had no prelude.
“Gathering-step!” She commanded and even before the trainees complied, she began to count the steps with metronome like precision. A girl at the front of the class was the first to take up the unspoken commandment, but in short order the remainder of the class followed. Just in time to have their instructor change her tact.
“Backward!” She said, and this time everyone got it the first time, and fell into step immediately. There after, she added in additional maneuvers, pivots for each step, and an altogether new step, demonstrating each only after giving the class an opportunity to show that they knew what she was talking about. Marteol was one of those who did. And yet he did not find the class easy. Elaryl was an exacting teacher, taking time out to correct the smallest miscue.
It was all incredibly basic, the things they were learning or, in his case refreshing, but they were all vital. Sometimes all the advantage Marteol had in a fight had been the thorough grounding in the basics his father had given. One right step against an opponent who had miscued which gave him a vital opening. And so Marteol gave himself over entirely to earnest focus. He did not stumble during the entire sequence, the bells on his braids sounding quietly as he moved, adding another sliver of credibility to the illusion that he, and the remainder of the class were dancing.
He even nearly managed the Void, as he moved focused as he was, but in the end it slipped through his fingers like melting snow. And the tighter he sought to make his grip, to drag the Void over his head like a quilt, the faster it slipped away, until it was gone as if he had never even gotten close. Frustration blossomed in his chest like the most disgustingly twisted flower of the blight, and Marteol gagged on it’s flavor. He was not used to failure such as this. He had been practicing religiously as Elaryl had instructed, but so far he had managed nothing approaching success.
Suddenly, murmuring amongst his classmates intruded on Marteols frustrated wallowings, and he snapped his mind back to his task, apparently having missed something, as he caught the tail end of something Elaryl had been saying, “… relies on the pull.” A momentary flash of fear slide through Marteols mind like a blade through leather. What had he missed? He wondered frantically. They obviously weren’t discussing footwork anymore, but with her next sentence, Marteol was right back on topic, and the tension born of momentary fear slid from him like water off a snow-gooses back. He wondered if Elaryl might have caught it, but she gave no sign, instead she simply continued with the lesson, introducing the Five Stances, and Marteol mirrored her, doing his best to copy her ease, her confidence, but he felt completely out of sorts with only one long blade. Still he did his best, and felt as if he equated himself if not well, then at least not too poorly.
“Alright. Take a few moments and think about something.” Elaryl said, not appearing in the least winded by the exertions which had left him dripping with sweat. “How can you combine the footwork and stances we’ve learned, using cuts to link the stances, to create a series of movements that makes sense physically and contains the most power with the most efficient movement, using only one sword?” The last line, Marteol felt, was pointed directly at him, but he knew, or he thought he knew, that she wasn’t being malicious. She was just doing the best she could with the task she had been given. As the other trainees drifted off to various parts of the yard to account for themselves, Marteol Folded the Fan with the lathe and knelt smoothly where he had been standing, his buttocks settled on the balls of his feet. The lathe he balanced across his thighs, one hand resting on the hilt, the other on the ‘blade’, and he closed his eyes, and tried once more for the Void.
This time he got it.
With stunning suddenness, it was just there, springing up around him like a giant trap, and yet Marteol felt nothing but peace. He did not let the elation which skidded across the void like a rock over a frozen pond crowd his mind and cost him his sudden victory, no he shoved it into the flame and watched as it evaporated, the stress and adrenaline which were attendant went along with it, and he was calm.
“… to create a series of movements that makes sense physically and contains the most power with the most efficient movement…” That was the task Elaryl had given them, and Marteol was aware of his classmates spread out on all sides, working. Phyiscal Sense he thought… power and efficiency floated across his mind too, and then seemingly, there were five men in a loose circle around him.
Slowly, Marteol tucked the sword back to his side as if it were in a sheath, and then, rising smoothly, he drew and with a Gathering Step, swung a rising diagonal slash to cut one of the opponents from his hip to his shoulder, from Ji’val on his left to Mosiev’Val on his right. Pivoting to meet the next attacker, the Arafellian made a passing step and stabbed down. Another gathering step with a half pivot to the left and he swung in a horizontal stroke intended to decapitate the next foe, and he ended in Ji’Val. Then, with a final pivoting back step he dropped to his knees and swung the weapon in a wide whistling arc intending to disembowel the remaining two enemies. Then he stood and gracefully Folded the Fan. He practiced the series a few more times and then when Elaryl called the class back to order he fell in and watched the others, performing his series when his turn arose, and feeling a surge of satisfaction when Elaryl nodded approvingly, he rejoined the others in his class, and resumed following Elaryl’s spoken commands.
“Rahien-Val. Ji’Val. Passing step, one-two, one-two, cut upwards.” She commanded and as she spoke, the first drops of rain fell. Marteol did not flinch. Can’t expect every fight to be under clear skies with the sun shining. He thought philosophically, not missing a beat. But then, it can’t rain all the time either.
In reply to Reeds for Steel: Part Two: Cuts and Stances[show]/[hide]
It looked, and felt, like it would rain. The air was uncomfortably heavy and low, full clouds hung over the impossibly high spire of the White Tower, looming above Elaryl as she waited in her yard for her Basic Sword students. She peered up at the grey quilt covering the sky, silently hoping that they were just there for show. If it rained, she could cancel her class; but she knew she wouldn’t. She would stand there, and teach under the raindrops, with her students silently hating her. Well, it would happen to them again, and another teacher would make them do it. She really thought that it always ended up being part of the duties of the Trainee’s first teacher to make them hate her a little bit, for some reason. She either bored them because Basic Swords really was that Basic, or was too strict, or paired them up with someone who didn’t fight fair, or made them spar in the rain. None but the last situation was intentional.
But the life of a Trainee was full of pain, exhaustion, boredom, frustration, and all kinds of other unpleasant adjectives. They all found out eventually.
For today, at least, they would get to pick up a lathe again, and that would make most of them happy. Her students began trickling in; when she thought that everyone who had attended her first class had returned, she took her place at the front of the class again. This time there would be no long introduction, and much less lecture and explanation. Today, they watched and learned, or fell behind.
“Gathering step,” she commanded, and began counting “One-Two, one-two, one-two…” A girl in the front row realized what Elaryl meant, and began stepping, practicing the footwork she had learned in the last lesson. Eventually they all began practicing the step. “Backwards,” Elaryl shouted, and they reversed their direction. She held up her hand and eventually they all realized that she wanted them to stop. She turned her back to them and took the first half of the gathering step, then rotated on her feet so that her original back foot was now her lead foot, and she was facing them again.
“Pivot,” she explained, and demonstrated again. “Gathering step, front; one-two, one-two, one-two, one-two, one-two, pivot. One-two, one-two, one-two…” She lead them in this pattern for a few moments, then switched tack. “Passing step. One-two, one-two, one-two, one-two, one-two, pivot!” She saw several of the trainees figure out her switch on their own, and look up at her as if they weren’t sure whether or not they were right. She smiled and nodded at them, then demonstrated the second type of pivot, the only difference being that her back foot became her lead foot, then returned to back foot as she pivoted.
“Switching step,” she named, then demonstrated. “This step switches your feet and your angle—you will step your back foot up to meet your lead foot, then your original lead foot becomes your back foot. Notice here that you are in a very weak stance for a moment—keep this in mind, make this switch very fast and fluid. Use this step wisely. Alright. Passing step: one-two, one-two, pivot. Gathering step: one-two, one-two, backwards one-two, one-two, passing step, one-two, pivot, switching step, passing…” She ran the Trainees through a long series of varying arrangements of steps and pivots, watching various Trainees trip over themselves or others, scramble to recover, and try again. When segments of the Trainees performed the series correctly, it was like watching long grass wave in wind. She always got a little lost in this part of the lesson, reciting steps and numbers, watching bodies weaving back and forth, synchronized. Eventually she shook her hair out of her eyes, held up her hand again, and motioned towards the practice lathes. This portion of the class, at least, was a lecture.
“Cuts with a sword should take minimal movement. Think of how I asked you to sit when assuming the Flame and the Void. Your body should not be overly tensed; try not to tense muscles you do not need to use. Your shoulders should always drip down your back, like candle wax—do not hold them up by your ears, thinking they’ll add power to your strike. They won’t. Tensed shoulders will only limit the movement of your arms. Unnecessary tensed muscles, in fact, will always limit movement.
“Think of a cut using circular movement. The cut will in fact be a chop—making contact with the enemy—and then a slice, although they happen so fast as to become one movement. This is not true of all weapons, but it is true of a longsword. The slicing movement is integral to making a clean cut rather than just a striking blow with some unfortunate bleeding—many people who are unfamiliar with swords assume that all blades are razor-sharp. Mine is certainly not. It is sharp, but it will not cut through a silk handkerchief which lands on the blade by any means, and it will not take an off arm with only a chop.” Elaryl called one of the trainees—she thought his name was Gerol—up as she unsheathed Anarië.
“Grab the blade,” she instructed. Gerol looked at her fearfully, as if she had asked him to climb up the Tower and jump off. “Go ahead,” she encouraged, “it’s fine.” He gingerly reached toward the blade, laying his palm against the flat. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye again and she nodded him on. Taking a breath, he wrapped his fingers around the edge of the blade, and raised his eyebrows, surprised.
“See?” Elaryl nodded. “It’s sharp, but you won’t lose your fingers. She fished a length of rope from the pouch hanging from her swordbelt and handed it to Gerol. “Wrap this rope around the blade. Now pull it tight.” The rope began to fray slightly, but remained intact. Elaryl pulled Anarië toward herself, and the rope came apart in Gerol’s hands. “The technique I teach relies on the pull.” She held the blade out in front of her.
“This blade is primarily a cutting weapon. It is designed for use against most types of light armor; this is probably the majority of the fighting you will be doing. Other types of swords are designed for other purposes; against plate armor, for example, or chainmail. More advanced sword lessons may cover these other techniques.” She shifted to stand in the basic stance she had taught them.
“As I said, think of cutting as circular. Forms start in one stance, and end in another, which leads to another form, and another stance, and so on. There are five stances which our forms begin from and end in. Two of them usually begin from your strong side; I believe it is important to be comfortable with the stances on both sides, strong and weak. For all of these stances, both hands will grip the sword.” She listed them, demonstrating while facing them, assuming the stances on the opposite side she was naming so that the students could mirror her.
“Los’Val, right side. Hold the sword level with and behind your right ear. Your sword should have a slight diagonal rise; think of your back hand pulling the hilt down to create the rise, not your front hand pushing it up. Now, do the same on the left. Your stance will have to change to take this stance on the left, so that your left foot becomes the back foot.
“Taer’Val. The top of the hilt is level with your waist. The sword is pointed upward, the tip heading for your opponent’s face or throat.
“Mosiev’Val. The opposite of Taer’Val, with the sword pointed downwards towards your opponent’s shins or feet.
“Rahien’Val. Hold the sword above your head, your arms slightly bent. The sword is sloped slightly upwards, heading for the space between an opponent’s eyes.
“Ji’Val, right side. This time the blade is pointed backwards, held level with your waist, blade pointed down. Switch to your left, and once again, switch your stance so that your left foot is the back foot.” Once Elaryl was done demonstrating the forms a few more times, she circulated the yards as the Trainees practiced, answering questions and correcting stances as she moved. She moved back to the front.
“These stances can be maintained during the footwork; just maintain the position of the sword while moving your feet.” She demonstrated Los’Val with the Gathering step. “Cuts flow from these stances, and in the beginning, you should practice cuts with the footwork we practiced earlier. The step happens with the fullest extension of the cut.” As she completed a Passing step, she swept her blade upward and diagonally, slashing across an invisible opponent’s torso. Her students imitated her.
“Alright. Take a few moments and think about something. How can you combine the footwork and stances we’ve learned, using cuts to link the stances, to create a series of movements that makes sense physically and contains the most power with the most efficient movement, using only one sword?”
Elaryl gave the Trainees about twenty minutes to think and to practice their sequences, then called their attention back and watched each student perform his or her series. She corrected or praised, asked questions, and offered suggestions. Finally, their assignment done, she took up the same position as the beginning of class, readying for more drills. The remainder of the class, perhaps another half an hour or longer, would consist of Elaryl calling out series of stances, footwork, and cuts, and the trainees assuming them, so that they would be second-nature. The footwork, stances, and eventually, forms, would need to be ingrained in the Trainees’ muscle memories.
“Rahien-Val. Ji’Val. Passing step, one-two, one-two, cut upwards.” As she spoke, the first drops of rain fell. She flicked her eyes upwards, squinting against the drops. Well, the weather had held out for most of the class…or at least half of it. She had a feeling that not many Trainees would be staying after class to practice.
OOC: Ok, another 500 word post (at least), responding to this new information. You have some specific homework this time—describe the sequence your character comes up with. They can use a few simple forms if you really need to, but try to stick to simple cuts, thrusts, etc. I will have the last part of the lesson up on Friday. Thank you all for your prompt responses!
