Reeds of Steel: A Familiar Friend
Written by Andy
Posted on Sun, Jun 13, 2010 09:54 am
The last week or so of his new existence had been an interesting one he was forced to, albeit begrudgingly, admit to himself in the late watches of the night. It was not so much that things had become overly better, the previous issues that had wrestled his mind into the turbulent waters of insanity and out across the tranquil ones of relative peace had quietened considerably. He could not remember the last time the apparition of his disowned father had appeared to laughingly mock his weaknesses, and even the voice of his late wife had not whispered into his consciousness either. All in all he was more stable, or would have been if it were not for the other wretched demon in his life – alcohol. Even against rules he could not bring himself to completely throw it aside. He had spent too long using it as a crutch, he would openly admit, and he was not willing to stand alone just yet.
In an attempt to take his mind off of such matters, and the related issues they brought forwards into the light for him, he had chosen to try something he had not experience for some time – a lesson. A lesson in something constructive rather than upon the premise of bitter revenge and terrible loss. If he was forced to let his arrogance take the lead in his assessment of such a matter he might had considered it pointless. Countless times he had been forced to fight both man and beast with the sword and its uses were by no means unknown to him. However, it was something warmly familiar in its own way and familiarity was something that would firmly anchor himself into the present rather than the past. He could lose himself in the motions, feel with every movement as if he were completely alone and at peace.
An ironic supposition it would seem, that a weapon of war and death designed for cruelty can bring something so positively passive he thought to himself as he waited, a short space away from all the gathered others, for the instruction to commence.
As the instructor began upon the first foray of her dialogue he let the words wash over him, a stone in the middle f a flowing stream. Her instructions for the lesson did not take as high a precedence for him as the actual performing. He did not ignore her words, however, merely kept them as an aside. He was doing this for himself rather than to please instructors and gain merit with them. IF they both became one and the same though he would not be found complaining afterwards. As she came to a close it seemed rather easily done and he saw no point in telling falsities – though the whole truth he would not, of course, reveal.
“Drystan Ihvaein,” he began, pausing and wondering how many would be able to connect the name Ihvaein with lands in Arafel. “I have a good familiarity with the sword, having spent most of my life as a young man being taught its use. I have combat experience also in several areas if that is found to be relevant at all. I am, as you put it, here as a…refresher…in such things” he finished. There was no arrogance or bragging in what he said, merely statement of fact in a soft, solid way.
That done he settled back into his state of perpetual absorption and internal analysis. Hopefully, for him, the lesson would be a fruitful one even if he did not technically learn anything particularly new.
OOC: Sorry for the delay, RL has given me a bit of a surprise battering the last week or so. But here all the same now :)
In reply to Reeds for Steel: Basic Swords[show]/[hide]
The Training Grounds seemed particularly busy today, with few empty spaces and sparring yards visible among the knots of young men and women training in various weapons and fighting styles. Here and there a vertigo-inducing Fancloak waved as Warders supervised. Elaryl was glad that she had a fenced-off sparring area reserved for her lesson, or she suspected she would have had to cancel.
She made her way through the Yards, clutching an armful of practice lathes and several wooden wasters, nodding and mumbling at people who waved as she passed. Several pieces of short, dark brown hair were already falling out of the leather tie holding it back, and she brushed it out of her eyelashes irritably with a shoulder. As she passed the Archery Range, Serai waved off in the distance, then trotted over to walk beside her, dark curls bouncing.
“Veryle and I are going into the city today for lunch. We’re tired of Tower food. Want to join us?”
Elaryl actually had very few problems with the food in the mess, but some time off sounded absolutely delicious. After months of lackluster work, not caring about training beyond the bare minimum, and prolonging her time as a mid-rank Trainee, the last few weeks had been exhausting. Ever since she had run into Talaban at the Warder’s Rest, Elaryl had seemed to remember why she had come to the Tower in the first place. She had thrown herself back into her training, remaining in the Yards past dark, waking up before dawn like she had as a new Trainee. She shook her head and sighed mentally.
“I’ll try, but I have a lesson. New babies to teach.” Although some of those “babies” may well be thirty years old, for all I know. “I’m in one of the yards by the stables… see if I’m done when you’re ready to go.”
Her friend’s grey eyes smiled as she poked Elaryl in the shoulder. “Taught enough classes for your liking?”
Elaryl grimaced and pushed Serai with her right hip. “Leave me alone. Go practice your archery, you’re terrible. You still owe me a silver mark from last time.” Serai immediately crinkled her nose and veered away from Elaryl, running back to the Range, waving. The Mayener woman was right; Elaryl had spent so much time as a mid-rank Trainee that she could not keep track of the lessons she had taught. She shook her head. All she could do about it now was work harder.
By the time Elaryl reached her yard, several Trainees had already assembled, some looking a little lost, others looking bored. What they should be doing is warming up, not standing there like Light-blinded idiots. She did see one or two, a little older than the others, no doubt with more experience, stretching; another looked to be no more than fifteen, obviously eager to get started. She set down the lathes in a pile near the fence, set the wasters leaning against it, adjusted her swordbelt around her hips, and hopped up on the fence to wait as more students drifted into the yard.
Finally she decided she had waited long enough; enough students had trickled in, and it was time to teach. She pushed herself off the fence, landing lightly on the packed dirt, and walked to the front of the yard, folding her arms behind her back. She waited for the slight talking to quiet down and began.
“Good morning. My name is Elaryl M’Kasa. I have fifteen years of experience with swords, and I am a mid-level Trainee, two merit badges.” She tapped the badges sewn to her left sleeve and re-folded her arms behind her back.
“I’m sure you all have varying experiences with weaponry and fighting styles, and preferences, I expect; but the Tower expects all of their Warders to be proficient with a sword. That skill is what I will begin teaching you today. No doubt some of you also have some experience with a sword, perhaps years.” She focused on one Trainee who looked to be older than she was, and was certainly an experienced fighter, and a boy who regarded the bundled lathes with distaste. Itching for steel, not reeds. “I assure you, you are all beginners here. We will begin with the very basics, which to some of you will no doubt be incredibly disappointing.” She nodded.
“I understand. I took the same class as a new Trainee—we all did—and at that point I had been training with a sword for nine years. And I have taught this class…” Elaryl looked skyward, trying to count the Basic Swords classes she had taught during her time at the Tower, and eventually gave up. “…over and over and over. Trust me when I say that it is not a bad thing to start over from the beginning.
“If you already know the skills I am teaching you today, consider this class an opportunity to refine those skills.” Elaryl paused and looked around at the assembled Trainees, then delivered the news that was always most disappointing to students. “There will be few swordforms taught in this lesson.” She was met with the expected groans and sighs and slumped shoulders. “Only the most basic. This is only the first of a long line of sword lessons you will take part in during your training—further swordforms will be taught in further lessons. Today you will be learning how to hold a sword; how to avoid cutting off your own arm; those kinds of skills. Important, more important than they sound. Although not cutting off your own arm, I would imagine, sounds reasonably important.
“So, before we begin, I would like to know each of your names; your experience with a sword, if any—and if you have none, please tell me. Plenty of Warders started at the Tower without ever having picked up a sword—any other weapons experience you have, and if you have an idea of what you would like to specialize in; and why you’ve come to the White Tower. Also, please let me know if you have any questions before we begin.”
OOC: Ok, here we go! Welcome to Basic Swords for new Trainees! Introduce your character and away we go. At least 300 words please, for this intro post. Later posts will probably have longer requirements. Also let me know about any questions you have OOC; my contact info is in the Members section. In about a week we’ll continue with the next part!
