Ireth
Mythic Scribe
Rikhard moved his head a little to hear Loke better, then nodded to show he understood. He looked Farrun up and down, trying to gauge his intentions from his body's movement or the lack of it.
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The Winds of Ysgard - Part One
- Thread starter Nimue
- Start date
Gryphos
Dark Lord
As Einan dodged backwards, Bendalitz's blade passed clean through nothing. For a moment he fumbled to try and regain his footing, a moment in which he was so very much exposed. Enid's mistake, however, was waiting to counter attack.
By the time the elf attacked, Bendalitz was ready. He grabbed his satchel with his free hand and swung it across his front to his left side, where the knife's point glanced off the heavy leather and thick tomes within. Whilst Bendalitz held out his dagger near Einan's neck.
"If you're looking for a lesson, I'm not a teacher. But I will say that you hesitated a bit too long before coming at me. In a struggle, you don't have the luxury of waiting."
By the time the elf attacked, Bendalitz was ready. He grabbed his satchel with his free hand and swung it across his front to his left side, where the knife's point glanced off the heavy leather and thick tomes within. Whilst Bendalitz held out his dagger near Einan's neck.
"If you're looking for a lesson, I'm not a teacher. But I will say that you hesitated a bit too long before coming at me. In a struggle, you don't have the luxury of waiting."
Addison couldn't help feel a bit of pride when she caught Loke's glance of approval. It meant she'd succeeded in showing what a Huntress could do, but not at Troia's expense. But did Troia understand that?
"Princess, no matter how much your arms tire, know that each swing helps ye know your blade a bit better. I've come out o' some hunts a bloody mess, and I know a worse hurt—the hurt o' losing people in small bands like ours."
After thirty one-handed strikes, and thirty two-handed, Addison decided the next thirty would integrate footwork into the three basic strikes. The last ten would be a combination of the one-handed horizontal and two-handed overhead. She would integrate drawing and sheathing on another day…
"Princess, no matter how much your arms tire, know that each swing helps ye know your blade a bit better. I've come out o' some hunts a bloody mess, and I know a worse hurt—the hurt o' losing people in small bands like ours."
After thirty one-handed strikes, and thirty two-handed, Addison decided the next thirty would integrate footwork into the three basic strikes. The last ten would be a combination of the one-handed horizontal and two-handed overhead. She would integrate drawing and sheathing on another day…
Tom
Istari
Einan gritted his teeth, staring down the blade that had appeared far too close to his throat, and tried to ignore the sting he felt at Benalitz's words. He'd made a mistake, and he was determined to learn from it.
He stepped back from the dagger's edge, tightening his grip on his own knife's hilt, and prepared for the next move.
He stepped back from the dagger's edge, tightening his grip on his own knife's hilt, and prepared for the next move.
Addison thought Troia was doing well with her basics. She moved to the next phase of the lesson—footwork drills. "Side-stepping, to be specific," she added.
"Parrying has its place, but take a look at Loke o'er there. Try parrying his blade, it'll be your last mistake." Addison put away her knife, and picked up her axe. She swung it a few times to make a point that she could swing something that big that fast. "Lighter than it looks," she explained. "But heavy enough to cleave you in two if ye stand and let it. Don't back-pedal. Move to one side, and make me feel your blade." She looked at Troia's weapon. "In its scabbard. Ye might be new to the sword, but it don't mean ye can't cut through me wyvernhide."
Addison went slow to make sure Troia would be quick enough to dodge. She waited for the blow. Troia was gentle with her.
"Appreciate ye being soft, but don't. Next time, I don't plan to wait for your sword. Assume if ye fail to hit me, me axe cleaved you in two at the waist or neck, depending where your guard wasn't. I know me blade like I know me fingernails. It ain't hard to recover from a miss, once ye know your blade."
The next time, Addison swung faster—keeping control of the axe just in case—but Troia moved. She moved too far to hit Addison with her counterattack. The next time, her blade was too slow. When she finally did hit the Huntress, there was a satisfying thump. Addison dashed away from the impact, and it looked as if she'd been knocked back a few feet. She grinned. "Better." There were more misses as Addison sped up, and more thumps as Troia learned to predict Addison's movement.
Every time Addison was hit, she dashed away from the impact. I'll teach her that one another day.
"Parrying has its place, but take a look at Loke o'er there. Try parrying his blade, it'll be your last mistake." Addison put away her knife, and picked up her axe. She swung it a few times to make a point that she could swing something that big that fast. "Lighter than it looks," she explained. "But heavy enough to cleave you in two if ye stand and let it. Don't back-pedal. Move to one side, and make me feel your blade." She looked at Troia's weapon. "In its scabbard. Ye might be new to the sword, but it don't mean ye can't cut through me wyvernhide."
Addison went slow to make sure Troia would be quick enough to dodge. She waited for the blow. Troia was gentle with her.
"Appreciate ye being soft, but don't. Next time, I don't plan to wait for your sword. Assume if ye fail to hit me, me axe cleaved you in two at the waist or neck, depending where your guard wasn't. I know me blade like I know me fingernails. It ain't hard to recover from a miss, once ye know your blade."
The next time, Addison swung faster—keeping control of the axe just in case—but Troia moved. She moved too far to hit Addison with her counterattack. The next time, her blade was too slow. When she finally did hit the Huntress, there was a satisfying thump. Addison dashed away from the impact, and it looked as if she'd been knocked back a few feet. She grinned. "Better." There were more misses as Addison sped up, and more thumps as Troia learned to predict Addison's movement.
Every time Addison was hit, she dashed away from the impact. I'll teach her that one another day.
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Gryphos
Dark Lord
Bendalitz backed away from Einan, swinging the satchel back into its right position and checking the knife hadn't let any real mark. He lowered his dagger. "I'm not a good fighter, Einan. I mean, I'm probably better than you, but Loke or Farrun, or even Addison, they'd all destroy me. That's why, if there was one lesson I would pass on, it's to know how to pick your battles. I for one prefer not to pick any battles, but I know some people relish the melee."
Bendalitz shrugged and sheathed his blade. "But speaking of avoiding battle..." he slung the crossbow off his back and aimed it at Einan. "Pretend this is loaded. Well, first off you'd be dead because I'd have shot by now if it was – but let's disrgard that for. A second. What do you do?"
Bendalitz shrugged and sheathed his blade. "But speaking of avoiding battle..." he slung the crossbow off his back and aimed it at Einan. "Pretend this is loaded. Well, first off you'd be dead because I'd have shot by now if it was – but let's disrgard that for. A second. What do you do?"
Tom
Istari
Einan drew a blank. A crossbowman didn't have to nock an arrow, then draw back, then sight down the arrow. If the bow was loaded, he could just shoot. It didn't give him the time a normal bow would give him to either evade the arrow or attack the bowman.
"If I saw it coming, I could probably dodge the bolt," he began, crossing his arms in thought. "Then, while you're reloading, I attack."
He was confident he could get out of the bolt's path--his elven speed and reflexes had saved his life a few times before. It was the attack that worried him. Even if Benalitz didn't succeed in loading another bolt, he could always use it as a hand weapon, since, after all, it was perfectly designed for stabbing.
"If I saw it coming, I could probably dodge the bolt," he began, crossing his arms in thought. "Then, while you're reloading, I attack."
He was confident he could get out of the bolt's path--his elven speed and reflexes had saved his life a few times before. It was the attack that worried him. Even if Benalitz didn't succeed in loading another bolt, he could always use it as a hand weapon, since, after all, it was perfectly designed for stabbing.
Gryphos
Dark Lord
"And what if I don't shoot?" Bendalitz held the crossbow steady. "What if I just stand here aiming at you? The reason you can dodge a bolt is because you know when it's coming. Usually the crossbowman doesn't need any more than a second to take aim, and you could see in their face when they're about to shoot." Bendalitz's face went completely blank. "Now what do you do?"
Tom
Istari
"Find cover," Einan shot back. He wondered what Benalitz's response would be--would he be annoyed, amused, angered? A man like him was hard to predict. That was what made him dangerous.
Gryphos
Dark Lord
"Good," said Bendalitz. "Probably the best idea. I mean, if I'm a good shot, and you run in a straight line, I still might be able to shoot you before you reach cover. But if you stay still ... I will shoot you."
Bendalitz thought that maybe that last bit came off as a bit more sinister than he intended. He smiled. "How good are you with that bow?"
Bendalitz thought that maybe that last bit came off as a bit more sinister than he intended. He smiled. "How good are you with that bow?"
- Thread starter
- #271
Nimue
Dark Lord
Farrun nodded at Loke's advice, then circled for a moment, testing Rikhard's stance in motion. He moved well, if not with certainty. Rikhard’s green eyes were a little unnerving when he was this intent on something--usually the young man seemed to avoid his gaze.
Farrun judged him ready and lunged midstep, bringing up his axe in a swing from below towards the midsection. Rikhard anticipated him, making good use of Loke’s hint, and thrust his spear dead towards Farrun’s chest.
Farrun carried his swing upwards, knocking the shaft of the spear to the side. He wanted to gauge Rikhard’s grip, and found it surprisingly strong. He kept moving, pulling his attack back and lunging in with the spike between the axe blades. Rikhard ducked to avoid the strike, aiming a blow towards Farrun’s leg. A defensive strategy, and a little too slow. Farrun sidestepped the spear and, as Rikhard bent, he tapped the back of his unprotected neck with the butt of his axe. "Too low, and your enemy will cut you down before you can rise," he said, his voice calm and carrying. He let his dodge take him outside of the circle of engagement, and took a guarding stance, waiting for Rikhard to move first.
"Duly noted." Rikhard straightened up and gave Farrun a salute, then quickly resumed his stance and grip. He took the offensive this time, feinting to the right and then striking to the left.
"Good!" Farrun called. He was making use of the spear's swiftness. Farrun dodged the jab and brought his axe down towards Rikhard's extended arm. The younger man scrambled to block--not perfect, but serviceable. Farrun let his axe strike the spear, much softer than a blow in earnest--the shaft was made of fire-hardened oak, but his axe was dwarven steel, and when properly sharpened could take a chunk out of it. He pulled back on the rebound and struck towards Rikhard’s left side, pressing him back.
Rikhard sidestepped and struck in retaliation. His movements were hastier than before, and he might be tiring. Farrun deflected the spearpoint with the blade of his axe, and thrust through above his right arm, stopping the points of his axe a few inches before Rikhard's chest. "Match," he said, and shifted his axe to his left hand, holding out his empty right. "Well done. Have you never been trained in battle before?"
Farrun judged him ready and lunged midstep, bringing up his axe in a swing from below towards the midsection. Rikhard anticipated him, making good use of Loke’s hint, and thrust his spear dead towards Farrun’s chest.
Farrun carried his swing upwards, knocking the shaft of the spear to the side. He wanted to gauge Rikhard’s grip, and found it surprisingly strong. He kept moving, pulling his attack back and lunging in with the spike between the axe blades. Rikhard ducked to avoid the strike, aiming a blow towards Farrun’s leg. A defensive strategy, and a little too slow. Farrun sidestepped the spear and, as Rikhard bent, he tapped the back of his unprotected neck with the butt of his axe. "Too low, and your enemy will cut you down before you can rise," he said, his voice calm and carrying. He let his dodge take him outside of the circle of engagement, and took a guarding stance, waiting for Rikhard to move first.
"Duly noted." Rikhard straightened up and gave Farrun a salute, then quickly resumed his stance and grip. He took the offensive this time, feinting to the right and then striking to the left.
"Good!" Farrun called. He was making use of the spear's swiftness. Farrun dodged the jab and brought his axe down towards Rikhard's extended arm. The younger man scrambled to block--not perfect, but serviceable. Farrun let his axe strike the spear, much softer than a blow in earnest--the shaft was made of fire-hardened oak, but his axe was dwarven steel, and when properly sharpened could take a chunk out of it. He pulled back on the rebound and struck towards Rikhard’s left side, pressing him back.
Rikhard sidestepped and struck in retaliation. His movements were hastier than before, and he might be tiring. Farrun deflected the spearpoint with the blade of his axe, and thrust through above his right arm, stopping the points of his axe a few inches before Rikhard's chest. "Match," he said, and shifted his axe to his left hand, holding out his empty right. "Well done. Have you never been trained in battle before?"
Ireth
Mythic Scribe
Rikhard smiled and lowered his spear to shake Farrun's hand. He shook his head in answer to the question. "I'm mainly self-taught, or had others defending me so I didn't have to fight."
Even as he spoke a memory of his mother sprang up unbidden to flash before his eyes -- how she had pushed him out of the way of the captain's greedy hands, only to meet the blade of his sword instead. Rikhard's breath caught in his throat, and he froze for a moment before recovering himself. "...Sorry."
Even as he spoke a memory of his mother sprang up unbidden to flash before his eyes -- how she had pushed him out of the way of the captain's greedy hands, only to meet the blade of his sword instead. Rikhard's breath caught in his throat, and he froze for a moment before recovering himself. "...Sorry."
Tom
Istari
"Good enough," Einan replied, retrieving his bow from where it had been lying, unstrung, beside his satchel. He strung it and held it out for Benalitz to inspect. "I'm no master archer, but my aim is true and I'm fast at the draw."
Addison saw Rikhard and Farrun were taking a break. Troia could use one, too.
The Huntress approached Farrun. "I appreciate ye pairing the experienced with the novice. I can show Troia the way a Huntress fights, but her arm's new to the sword. Best I'ave her switch to the bow for the rest o' the session."
Bendalitz and Einan apparently had the same idea. Addison looked at Troia and gestured toward the men who were knife-fighting not long ago. "Looks like Einan's getting on well with his trainer." Men and their games o' toppling.
The Huntress approached Farrun. "I appreciate ye pairing the experienced with the novice. I can show Troia the way a Huntress fights, but her arm's new to the sword. Best I'ave her switch to the bow for the rest o' the session."
Bendalitz and Einan apparently had the same idea. Addison looked at Troia and gestured toward the men who were knife-fighting not long ago. "Looks like Einan's getting on well with his trainer." Men and their games o' toppling.
Gryphos
Dark Lord
Bendalitz glanced tentatively down at the bow as Einan held it out. What was he meant to do with it? He slung his crossbow back over his back and took the bow, looking it up and down. "Yes," he said, "that is, indeed ... a bow." He dropped i back into Einan's hands and turned his head to the others, who it seemed had stopped training.
"Thank the gods for that. Maybe we can actually get moving again." He took one step in their direction, before stopping. He couldn't just leave without giving Einan at least some useful advice. Pivoting on his heels to face him, he said, "Just shoot, if we get into a tussle. Preferably the enemy."
With that he pivoted around again and strode off. "Bendalitz Agrippen," he muttered to himself, "master tutor."
"Thank the gods for that. Maybe we can actually get moving again." He took one step in their direction, before stopping. He couldn't just leave without giving Einan at least some useful advice. Pivoting on his heels to face him, he said, "Just shoot, if we get into a tussle. Preferably the enemy."
With that he pivoted around again and strode off. "Bendalitz Agrippen," he muttered to himself, "master tutor."
- Thread starter
- #276
Nimue
Dark Lord
"Naught to apologize for, lad," Farrun said, surprised and a little concerned. Another flash of darkness across Rikhard's face. "You have a good start--learning how to hold on to your weapon and keep your stance is the foundation of fighting, and you have that entirely."
"Whatever you think is good," he replied to Addison. "I'll switch us around tomorrow, but however we do it, I mean for everyone to work. Teaching's harder work than sparring, to be sure." He gave a crooked smile. "Aye, don't let the look on Bendalitz fool you, he'd sooner scratch himself with that knife than scratch Einan." Same reason he'd wielded a naked blade against Rikhard, to instill a respect for its edge. It was easy to forget in training, but every hit could be deadly.
He squinted up at the setting sun, glowing violet and amber through the clouds. They had a little light left, but there was no need to press anyone to weariness on the first day. Some might not be as used to riding as he was, either. "Come on, we'll head into town!" he called to everyone.
--
Just inside the palisade walls of Bernholt was the inn, a two-story building under a great, sloping thatched roof. The Dovecote, according to the sign hanging above the door. As they came up, a stablehand came out and sized them up. After discussing the number of horses and eyeing the purse at Farrun's belt, he disappeared into the inn.
When he returned, it was with a large, bearded man in a stained apron, and it was not with the answer Farrun was expecting.
"We don't house elves here," the man said, pointing a stubby finger at Einan. "They camp outside the walls."
"Whatever you think is good," he replied to Addison. "I'll switch us around tomorrow, but however we do it, I mean for everyone to work. Teaching's harder work than sparring, to be sure." He gave a crooked smile. "Aye, don't let the look on Bendalitz fool you, he'd sooner scratch himself with that knife than scratch Einan." Same reason he'd wielded a naked blade against Rikhard, to instill a respect for its edge. It was easy to forget in training, but every hit could be deadly.
He squinted up at the setting sun, glowing violet and amber through the clouds. They had a little light left, but there was no need to press anyone to weariness on the first day. Some might not be as used to riding as he was, either. "Come on, we'll head into town!" he called to everyone.
--
Just inside the palisade walls of Bernholt was the inn, a two-story building under a great, sloping thatched roof. The Dovecote, according to the sign hanging above the door. As they came up, a stablehand came out and sized them up. After discussing the number of horses and eyeing the purse at Farrun's belt, he disappeared into the inn.
When he returned, it was with a large, bearded man in a stained apron, and it was not with the answer Farrun was expecting.
"We don't house elves here," the man said, pointing a stubby finger at Einan. "They camp outside the walls."
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Addison stepped up to the large man, hand in purse clutching her shocker, just in case.
"He's one of us," she said, glaring at man, "and I ain't no stranger to sleeping under the stars. Ye can apologize to Einan now, or I'll make me own arrangements outside the walls as well. I don't do business with those rude to me friends."
Mount Freckle, with me!
Addison's curls started to straighten into jagged shapes from the lightning-charged air surrounding her. Mount Freckle calmly trotted toward the infuriated Huntress.
"He's one of us," she said, glaring at man, "and I ain't no stranger to sleeping under the stars. Ye can apologize to Einan now, or I'll make me own arrangements outside the walls as well. I don't do business with those rude to me friends."
Mount Freckle, with me!
Addison's curls started to straighten into jagged shapes from the lightning-charged air surrounding her. Mount Freckle calmly trotted toward the infuriated Huntress.
Ireth
Mythic Scribe
Rikhard looked at Addison as she stood up to the innkeeper, staying silent as she spoke. Her boldness piqued some small seed of courage, and he stepped up to her side.
"Addison's right. Einan is part of our company. Either you apologize and accept him -- as well as the money you'll earn from him -- or you lose business from the rest of us." He kept the exact number vague, not knowing how many would be willing to sleep out of doors if there was an inn available to them.
"Addison's right. Einan is part of our company. Either you apologize and accept him -- as well as the money you'll earn from him -- or you lose business from the rest of us." He kept the exact number vague, not knowing how many would be willing to sleep out of doors if there was an inn available to them.
As Rikhard joined Addison's side, she caught a glimpse of some larks in flight. She gave them a thought to circle overhead. And if ye got to go, ye best hold it for now.
DMThaane
Mystagogue
Loke strode forward, bearing down on the man. "These others may be fine sleeping outside the walls but I wish a bath and a good night of rest."
He stepped forward, standing just slightly too close to the man. Taking his space as Loke's own.
"And I don't sleep away from my companions. So, you will allow us all to rest here and we will pay our fair due, or when I return I will inform Loke Bloodaxe that you refused shelter to one of his companions. Did I not mention that we are mercenaries in the service of Loke Bloodaxe, on urgent business?" He flashed a threatening smile, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "No? And if the Elfslayer thinks of this boy as a companion, who are you to declare him wrong?" He chuckled to himself. "I can only imagine how he would react."
He may not like elves but Einan was Iridheen and he was raised by Folk, Loke was sure of it. More than that, Einan was now of their party. He would be expected to fight alongside them, to spill blood in their cause. Loke would not allow that to be disrespected.
He stepped forward, standing just slightly too close to the man. Taking his space as Loke's own.
"And I don't sleep away from my companions. So, you will allow us all to rest here and we will pay our fair due, or when I return I will inform Loke Bloodaxe that you refused shelter to one of his companions. Did I not mention that we are mercenaries in the service of Loke Bloodaxe, on urgent business?" He flashed a threatening smile, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "No? And if the Elfslayer thinks of this boy as a companion, who are you to declare him wrong?" He chuckled to himself. "I can only imagine how he would react."
He may not like elves but Einan was Iridheen and he was raised by Folk, Loke was sure of it. More than that, Einan was now of their party. He would be expected to fight alongside them, to spill blood in their cause. Loke would not allow that to be disrespected.