[Demda]

So they all grabbed shields. The Jaedaxian did as well, once he’d recovered from the blow to his stomach. Demda felt a twinge of something unfamiliar as she watched the way he carried himself. Was it guilt? The girl was unaccustomed to the feeling. The first time she’d felt anything remotely similar was when she’d killed her mentor. It seemed strange that something so insignificant as a hit would bring on that old feeling. She shrugged. Perhaps it was just that she was getting used to living and fighting and learning with the squadron. Whatever it was, she would try to dismiss the feeling. She knew it wouldn’t do her much good as far as training went.

”Alright recruits. Now that you have your shields, it’s time for you to receive an education. Now the shield is the single greatest invention toward the footman’s defensive endeavors. It stops blows from landing, and without tying up your swordarm, allowing for a simultaneous counter. The shields that you were issued are plated in steel, and as such heavier than normal shields. Even so, your arms will get used to the weight once you’ve been blooded a time or two, and throughout the training, as these shields are weighted with lead.”

Demda stared straight ahead, carrying her shield in her left and her sword in her right, listening and taking in all the information.

”One thing that you want to avoid while wielding a shield, is blinding yourself. That can happen very often, since it frequently happens that your shield finds it’s way in the path of an oncoming weapon. When that happens, your opponent can use the fact that your line of sight is blocked by your shield, to change the line of his attack with a sort of feint. Sometimes it’s unavoidable, but to make it happen as infrequently as possible, try and keep your line of sight with your opponent’s weapon open.”

”Alright, now I want to see you recruits pair up.” Zarion walked a few paces backward, and then turned to watch as the recruits scurried about looking for partners. He took a swig of his waterskin as he stood there.

This time Demda had much more difficulty finding a sparring partner. Her fellow recruits shied away from her, having witnessed the brutality she’d inflicted on the Jaedaxian. She frowned on the realization that they were avoiding her. They were training for war! What did they want from her?

So she waited patiently as the other recruits paired up and squared off, standing off to the side, watching for stragglers like some predator eyeing the herd.

Eventually, she spotted someone. He was rather tall, at six feet and two inches, and had brown hair and brown eyes. Rather plain, if truth be told. But she didn’t really care about such frivolities as appearance. By Jorel’s pits, she’d grown up in one of the most ugly cities on Telath. How she even had a sense for beauty in others was beyond her.

The young man noticed that she noticed him, and paled somewhat. It would appear that height didn’t necessarily equate to courage or strength, unlike in Orckon.

Long story short, they ended up pairing together.

They both began in stance. The boy’s was rather conventional, with his dominant side trailing, and his offhand and foot (and shield) leading. He was left-handed, which might complicate matters. Demda stood with her dominant side leading, and her shield held close to her swordhand, about a foot and a half, still standing as if she were in chains. Well it hadn’t done her much harm up until now, so she saw no need to change her methods. Practice would beat it out of her soon enough if it wasn’t a viable stance.

The boy might not have been the bravest, but he was bold enough to make the first move. He took a step forward, passing with his dominant foot, and sending a probing thrust toward Demda. The half-elf took a step back, out of range, remembering Zarion’s words about dodging, and parrying only when necessary. She supposed that the word parrying applied to blocks made with a shield as well. Plus it wouldn’t hurt to watch this new opponent and see how he moved.

And so he moved again, lunging with his right foot and thrusting with his sword simultaneously. Demda was confounded. She had to move her shield all the way to her right to block his attack, and then her shield was in the way of any potential counter attack. This would not be easy.

She took a step backward and out of measure, holding her shield in close, and toward her middle, with her sword tucked into the side of the shield. The boy made a pass with his left foot, and thrust out with his sword at the same time, aimed high, toward Demda’s right shoulder. She had to use her weapon to knock the blow aside. As she did so, she took the opportunity to step into the short measure, and viciously attacked his left arm with her shield. By then he was withdrawing his hand, so the shield only contacted with his wooden weapon. But Demda wasn’t done, she attempted a low kick directed at his left knee, aiming to bring him down. The kick hit, but his stance was good, well balanced, and he kept on his feet.

The rest of their spar went relatively smoothly, with neither one gaining much ground nor landing a hit with their sword. At the least, one could say that their defense was adequate. Although Demda never had been a great proponent of defense, she couldn’t deny the usefulness of a shield when it came to staying alive in combat.

The recruits trained thus for a few more weeks, until Sergeant Zarion was reasonably pleased with their progress. After that, they were moved on to other weapons, although they drilled regularly with a shield and shortsword, most of them had achieved a basic proficiency with the weapon, and it was time to move on to other weapons.

Personally, Demda was glad to see the end of Zarion and his lessons in short sword.

She’d many months ago come to the conclusion that swordsmanship wasn’t for her.