Getting To The Point (Self-Moderated l Basic Longsword)

[Kevin Girth]

Early in the Month of Optia in the Season of Summer,
of Era II of the Celestine Mandate Era XI,
Post Fractum in the Age of the Darkening.

A slow billow of smoke rose out of the smoothly crafted pipe and snaked its way through the air in front of Milthrandir. The elderly elf, who loooked far younger than time would whisper, sat crouched around a smoldering fire, its embers glowing ever so slightly in the morning's bleak atmosphere. Demios was known for its weather changes, today was no different: a dreary rain and near-constant drizzle suggested that dawn's light would be a bit farther away than what it truly was. Although it was a bare candlemark before the sun's expected rays of light would burst through the gray sky, Milthrandir had already predicted that the youth's training would be done precariously in the current conditions. In other words, it would be strictly left to wooden blades, and mostly under the roof's awning. If they were to use real blades, Milthrandir ran the risk of him or his pupil dismembering one of their limbs. Still, the Silrosian Elf was thankful for one thing...at least the drizzle and the cold bite to the wind would stress the proper maintenance of weapon care. That would be, of course, the first thing to learn. If you couldn't keep a weapon in care and prevent it from snapping in the course of a battle, then there was no use wielding one if you could not depend upon it. That was, for the most part, quite true in the events of Milthrandir's life, and having learned it the hard way he was more than willing to instruct his students in it.

Kevin came only moments later, his figure quietly winding its way down through the switchbacks that lead from the haven above to the training grounds below. At first he was a faint blur, on the very limits of Milthrandir's vision. Then, gradually, he began to take shape, and his image sharpened as did the clarity. He was wearing his green cloak, cowl lifted over his face to prevent too much of the rain to seep over his eyes. He was equipped with a longsword, an ancient brute at that, but at least he had the initiative to bring his own. By the looks of it, it could have been in the hands of a poor beggar a mere few candlemarks before the appointment. Standing upright, he was no taller than six feet if that, and was one of the less bulky in figure. The cowl created a shadow over the Human's - it was quite evident the man was human, for he certainly lacked the grace of an elf, yet perhaps he was a half-blood...he sure did seem a bit slim to be human - face, and prevented the full-blooded Silrosian elf from distinguishing any other features about the man. Slowly, as if time had stopped and was only barely ticking by, Kevin finally made it down upon the rather flat training grounds and approached the elf. A smile flickered across his scarlet lips as he removed the cowl from over his head and stepped underneath the roof. "Serale. You must be Milthrandir, my instructor? A bare few people would wake up at this insane hour...especially in this type of weather," Kevin spoke with a bit of a relaxed grin, setting the pace for their conversation as his bright hazel eyes stared eagerly into the ever-perceptive ones of the Elf.

Milthrandir smiled and nodded, a courteous gesture if you would call it that. "Yes, Vedui to you Kevin. And good morning! Although the weather would rather argue that statement," Milthrandir spoke in a mellow tone that accompanied his race quite often. Stepping back suddenly, a much more serious and stern look crossed paths with his face, and he gracefully reached down for the hilt of his longsword and drew it out. "Now Kevin, we begin your legend. I have no extensive knowledge as to what you know from experience about swordsmanship, so we will take things slow at the beginning. Now seeing as you're not working with Daragin...that blasted dwarf I regretfully call a friend," the elf winked, "prepare to be drilled to the fullest of your capabilities. Finesse and speed will be as much use to you with me as power. Now, I can tell you're not fully human...something in your eyes, I think, or maybe the slightest of tips in your ears. Right? Ahah, that's what I thought. Well, then you should have no problem tapping into that elven dexterity.

Now, back to your lesson. This here is a longsword, of an elven module. The elves are reknown for crafting their blades slimmer and lighter, usually out of an ore that is termed elven steel once smelted. Now, the blade is short enough to be used in one hand - if you use it in two, you loose your finesse but make up for in power. Longswords are comprised out of two words, long, and sword. It is a sword, and it is long, perhaps giving you the best reach out of any of the swords...save for a claymore of course. Okay...so if we are going to be swinging around this big chunk of metal, you might ask, just how strong do you think it is? Unfortunately, it elven steel will never be as strong or as thick as dwarven steel, as much as I'd hate to admit to Daragin - he's right. But, you should know the weakest and strongest parts of every sword. The very tip of the blade is used for cutting and thrusting, you should always keep this part sharp and serrated, otherwise you have simply a dull metal rod. Now although this part is the most useful of the blade, it is very weak and may sometime break. The bottom half, right before the hilt, is the thicker of the two and definitely stronger in the case of a longsword. Most blades are thicker near the hilt and then decrease in width up to the tip. The same goes for the sword you're holding there. Now, if you're ready, we can move on to upkeep. Any questions before we do though?"

[Kevin Girth]

Kevin simply nodded his head, his eyes glancing over Milthrandir's blade, watching the steel shimmer as it reflected the drizzle of each rain-drop a mere two feet away. "No questions Sir," Kevin spoke placidly before taking a step back. Slowly the Elf lifted up his own blade and began to instruct Kevin on upkeep and various parts.

"Right then. Grip your sword like this, firmly but not too firm - elsewise you'll be absorbing most of the shock whenever you strike a blow. But don't hold it too loose either...half of the time a soldier is disarmed could be prevented as to how to properly grip your sword. Right, but loosen it up just an edge..there. Moving on...this edge you see here lined up in accordance to the web of your thumb and forefinger is called the false edge. The line you see in accordance to your second knuckle, running straight up the side of the blade, is the true edge. Those terms are mostly used in plays or theatre, but if some master swordsman should come about and confuse you with their techniques, at least you'll have some idea on what they are talking about. What you see here is called the crossguard. It is a good idea to keep it as wide as the hilt is long for the object of parrying. Above the crossgaurd is the blade, of course, and underneath it is what you call the handle. The primary purpose of a longsword is for one-handed use, but the handle is just long enough to place both hands upon it and wield it two-handedly if you must, with some discomfort. But hey, you can't expect everything to be all flowers and rainbows...hmm? The very end if the pommel, mostly for decoration - but it does serve one very important use. The pommel is actually a counterweight for the blade, used to balance the weapon," Milthrandir spoke with a kind smile before sheathing his sword in its black leather scabbard. Walking forward to Kevin, the tall elf turned sharply and bent down to open up a wooden chest Kevin had not noticed; taking out the oil, a clean rag and a sharpening stone, Milthrandir stood up again and nodded towards Kevin. "One thing you must remember about swordsmanship is this: your skill is only as good as your blade. If you have a weapon that is brittle and on the verge of breaking you will not be able to perform to your maximum potential, and if you do, prepare to be using a dagger of sorts to kill your victim. As I've learned the hard way, it is a poor idea to sheathe your sword wet or with blood upon it. If you must do so, replace the sheathe afterwards...otherwise every time you sheathe your sword it will return to a mucky environment that will cause the metal to rust and decay. To maintain the metal's properties, try to wipe it down as often as you can with oil and a clean rag. Once a cycle at the least; and that's if you're using it only a few times. Practice every day, or try to. That will be the deciding factor that keeps your skills sharp. Now...to keep your sword sharp, you will need a wetstone," Milthrandir spoke with a bit of a grin as he shuffled his hands and handed the wetstone to Kevin. With a wink, he demonstrated how to run the blade over the stone upon the edge, sharpening it slowly but surely. "When you sharpen, try to aim for a medium between dull and sharp. If you sharpen your blade too much, it may nick quickly and break upon plate armor. To a degree, you want to half of it dull and half of it keen. If you keep the blade slightly dull you'll find it absorbs more of the impact better. Go ahead," Milthrandir spoke with another kind smile, giving the stone to Kevin and allowing the Human to try it out. It was deeply important for beginners to learn the proper maintenance of their weapons - otherwise they'd be just as good stark naked in the Arakmatian desert with no water. Sharpening Kevin's dull blade took nearly a full candlemark, but soon after the blade was just as sharp as it had been before it was placed on the dusty shelves of Bubba's General Store.

[Kevin Girth]

Supposedly the more knowledge one gathered about his opponent, the more likely he was to win. This ranged from as far as past history to strategy, tactics, and training. Weapontypes were often included in tactics. Learning about the various fighting styles was interesting, but far less exciting. Or so it was to be understood between Milthrandir and Kevin. The elderly elf briskly sheathed his sword in its leather black scabbard and laid it gently on the ground, telling Kevin to do the same. After picking them both back up and placing them on the shelf in case the rainwater leaked onto the dirt outside of the hut, Milthandir began to stretch his arms and legs. "Now, just because it's drizzling out there doesn't mean we're not going to exercise. You're learning from an elf, Kevin, not some half-minded dwarf who cares more about red-meat than he does about his overwhelming gut..." Milthrandir spoke with a joyful wink as he reached upwards and tied his golden-blonde hair into a pony-tail behind his head, allowing the tresses to cascade backwards until they flowed to a stop at his shoulders. Standing up again and finishing with his stretches, Milthrandir cleared his throat and beckoned Kevin to follow him into the light downpour of rain.

Raindrops splashed atop Kevin's face as the Human finished his fourth lap around the Academy's grounds, gritting his teeth as he bit down and soldiered on with the trek. For the most part Milthrandir was still talking, his racial ability well-used to running through the forests or darting between trees. "Now, I am betting you have elven relatives in your third generation, am I correct? Yes? One of your grandparents hmm? They've probably outlived the rest of your family I'm sure...no offense of course. I think you have just enough of your elven blood intact to work on your dexterity a bit more. Because of that, consider yourself unlucky. We are going to run until you are one of the fastest sprinters around. We are going to train until you are twice as agile as any other Human you will come across. For all intents and purposes you will have the dexterity of a Half-Elf, and be just as quick on your feet as one of my kind. You will become ambidexterous with your sword, wielding it as an extension of your arm. You will note your endurance increasing doggedly as we continue to run five times around the Institute's grounds every morning at the crack of dawn. We will stretch, run, and exercise every morning for two candlemarks before we begin your swordplay. And more," Milthrandir instructed with the strict sternt one of a military Officer - probably having served as one in some point of his life. With a half-hearted grin Kevin nodded and jogged doggedly on, feeling his legs grow weaker by the second. After their run the two began a gruelling process of push-ups and sit ups...as well as other muscle building activity. Kevin was able to complete thirty sit-ups within a minute...about average for his race's ability. He was also able to do fourty push-ups before his body was forced to take a break, again slightly below average but full of potential. By the end of his basic swordsmanship training, both of those numbers would have doubled with the potential of doing so once more. After doing two sets of minute-wise sit ups and fourty push-ups, Milthrandir had Kevin begin to jog between a row of wooden stands. It was an unusual activity, and Kevin was able to do it sufficiently. However, as soon as he reached the end of the half kilometer dart between the pells, Milthrandir instructed him to do so backwards. This took far more time than Kevin had expected, but by the end of the cycle Kevin found himself nearly as fast a runner backwards as he was forwards. Surely his awareness of the material things around him had grown, as did his perception. After a gruelling four candlemarks of nothing but drills, Milthrandir finally called the session to a halt and handed Kevin a flask of springwater. The rain had stopped, and with the sun high above the clouds - though clearly not showing admist the dark gray sky above - the humidity was beginning to rise drastically. Kevin sighed and took a few gulps of water before returning to the pavillion to collect his sword. Now the real training would begin. At least Kevin was assured his money's worth, as well as the liability he was physically fit to live up to his training.

Kevin smiled as he handed back the leather flask to the Elf and wiped his brow with his cloak. Taking it off, as well as his emerald green vest, the Human was now only clad in his linen white shirt and black trousers...leather boots included of course. He laid his cloak and vest atop of the wooden bench he had set his scabbard upon moments before, and with that he attached his weapon of choice to the girdle around his hip and waited for Milthrandir to speak, which was not far from happening. "Alright then Kevin. There is a few things you should know before you begin to swing that blade of yours around like a mad-man. The first being drawing your weapon...here follow me," Milthrandir spoke as he led Kevin out from under the pavillion and back into the humid air outside. Finding a large enough space that could contain any major accidents, Milthrandir backed up five feet or so away from his pupil and smiled gently before continuing on. "When you draw your blade, and assuming you are right-handed, you should reach across your hip gingerly. Hold the blade with your two forefingers and thumb, it is a wise suggestion to leave your other two fingers loose in the manner of leaving your hand and wrist loose...so you may not get the brunt of the shock. Now...when you draw, try to bend your elbow at first when you cross in front of your body...then straighten it slowly as you bring the blade out of its sheathe. Go on and try," Milthrandir spoke. Kevin nodded and slowly performed as he was told, grasping the handle of his sword lightly but firmly, and bending his arm at the elbow. Ever so slowly he drew the blade outwards, at a vertically diagonal angle as his arm arched upwards and over his head. A slight ringing sound pierced his ears as the serrated edges clipped off the round metal inlet that encircled the top of the sheathe; music to Kevin's ears. Grinning in appreciation of the fine sound, Milthrandir himself drew his blade with rapid succession. "Now...in order for you to be effective with your blade, your body needs a decent foundation from which to act fun. The stances are just as important as the swordplay itself...one slip and lost of balance can mean the difference between life and death in these situations," Milthrandir continued in a long-drawn out tone, almost bored with the matter of explanations and eager to begin drilling his student.

"There are two main types of stances....offensive and defensive. They are both based off of the same maneuver of your feet. The first stance will be that of an offensive attacker. I want you to spread your feet until they are shoulder-length apart. A little further...good. Now keep the same distance and, if the sword is in your right hand, move your right foot forwards and your left foot backwards. If you hold the sword in your left hand, do the opposite. I am planning on making you as good on your right side as you are with your left...so be prepared to practice these stances a lot until you have them perfected. Now, stand there for a moment while we test your resillience. Afterwards we will test your agility. Some words of advise: It is better to choose avoiding a blow rather than having your armor absorb it. If you can avoid a blade swinging for your midsection, then why not move? I know Daragin emphasizes on resilience...but I am quite the opposite. You're not wielding some humongous claymore. You have a light blade. Therefore, you should have a light stance. Up on your toes Kevin Girth. You can never predict your opponents move with a hundred percent garuntee. Always be prepared for what you cannot expect," Milthrandir spoke with a grin, and with that suddenly reached out and pushed Kevin over onto the ground. "You see? You should have taken the hint and had been ready. Back into the stance once more, come along. Now I am going to push you backwards, and I want you to counter me by balancing your weight. Now!" the Elf spoke again before pushing the bulkier human with both hands in the man's chest. Kevin countered by shifting his weight to his right foot rather than his left. Emphasizing on agility and dexterity, Milthrandir removed a bag of marbles from underneath the pavilion and dropped them in front of Kevin at random intervals, ordering the Human to catch them all whislt staying in the same chance. Kevin missed all but two, and was forced to repeat the exercise until he could catch all of them one at a time in a matter of seconds. Next, the Elf and Human locked arms and began a contest of strength, pushing this way and that in the attempt of knocking one or the other over. Kevin's balance held true, and while doing so Milthrandir explained to him how to revert his stance more of a defensive one. "”By shifting your weight to your rear footing, you can absorb blows better and have the competence to thrust and jab. If you lean forward and shift your weight on your right foot, you not only gain more reach but also the leverage for better slashes. Understand?" the elf asked once more, his almond-like eyes glittering majestically at the prospect of the actual swordsmanship training about to take place.

[Kevin Girth]

"Right then. Follow me," Milthrandir's voice whispered along the light drizzle of rain before reaching Kevin's weary ears. The Human had awoken into a bad dream, not quite yet the nightmare it could unravel into becomming, but none too pleasant all the same. Going back under the Pavillion for one last swig from his leather flask, Milthrandir set aside the maintenance equipment and returned the wetstone to its chest. Gathering up his longsword, he buckled it to the latch hanging off his belt and stepped back out into the humid air, feeling the hot breath of a sleeping dragon was over his facial features. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, and made Kevin even more tempted to go jump in the springs not too far from the Training Grounds. "Now your true swordsmanship prowess will take shape," Milthrandir spoke once more to Kevin before turning on the ball of his foot and stalking off towards the rows upon rows of wooden sticks. Almost like lone fencing posts, silent sentinels witness to the training of numerous people across time. Earlier Kevin had darted between them, frontwards and backwards, to raise his agility and awareness. Not then had he noticed the chipped scratches carved along their angular edges, the tiny little nicks and scrapes that defined their true purpose. Kevin spotted two wooden blades embedded in the ground, their dull yet sharp-enough points embedded in the ground for easy removal and usage. However, aside from the row of wooden stands was another, small row. Two of these posts had been covered with layers of heavy canvas, which Kevin guessed was for the safety of the metal blades. "These wooden posts you trained with earlier are called Palls. They are, for all practical intents and purposes, simply practice posts. When you and I spar, which will happen after you learn the correct usage of that point-stick in your hand, we'll be using wooden swords for your safety. The Palls will be less fortunate...as we'll be practicing with our real blades. Aside from the stances, there are four attacks for you to learn: three different types of slashes, and the thrust. Now..." Milthrandir spoke before he walked around each post, finally stopping at the one Daragin had used the brightening before. "My dwarven counterpart has outlined the likeliness of a man upon this one. Although it's hard to make out, the poor guy never had the chance to take up a career as an artist, the head is this circle here. Anyways, there are three main slashes: horizontal, diagonal, and vertical. The simplest is the horizontal..but we'll start with the diagonal slash. To begin, stand next to the Pall and fall into your stance - don't forget to draw your sword and use a single-hand grip!" the elderly Elf commented upon his rather young pupil in an affectionate tone. Thus far Kevin had progressed as a rather amiable student and potential swordsman. No need for the young man to screw himself over now. "”Try to remember the strengths and weaknesses of your blade...though in battle few can afford such perfection. Take your time and concentrate, but don't lose accuracy and speed when you move to attack. Go ahead now, and strike this line...here," Milthrandir spoke as he took a piece of chalk and drew another line upon the post.

Kevin took a deep breath and began to clear his head of all the buggering thoughts that often filled it. Now was not the time for day-dreaming, as it was surely not the second candlemark of the afternoon. Letting out a barely audible sigh, Kevin's right hand reached across the front of his waist and gripped the handle of his longsword firmly. Straightening at the elbow, Kevin drew his blade slowly in an upwards arch, before adjusting his grip and loosening his ring finger and pinky. With a wolfish grin he began to percept the line in front of him, studying it intently and then creating the scenario in his mind. Kevin then adjusted his posture, moving his feet shoulder-width apart and then sliding forward his right foot. Bending himself at the knees to afford mobility, and lifting himself up onto his toes, Kevin felt a rush of adrenaline and excitement flood through his veins as he began to experience for the first time the thrill of battle. Even if it was against a wooden post. A small smile flickered across Kevin's face as he brought his longsword horizontal to the ground. Rotating his toso and raising the blade at the same instant, Kevin quickly delivered a diagonally downwards slash from the upper left to the lower right....severing the chalk man's left hip. Milthrandir chuckled but said no more, his eyes gazing instinctively on where the Human had just hit his target. "Not bad Kevin, not bad at all. Somewhere along your short span of years it seems you've picked up on the concept of power. Your torso, your upper body muscles, power comes from your body and not your wrist or hand. You rotated your chest, which was a good start and allowed your blade to sink a bit further into the wood than I would have expected. But did you shift your weight forward? Try again," Milthrandir spoke. Kevin nodded and repeated his exercise, this time not only rotating his torso from left to right as one with the blade, but also sliding his weight forward on his right foot, allowing him more reach and control over his blade. This time he struck the Pall on the shoulder. Instructed to continue once more, Kevin was drilled in the diagonal slash for half a candlemark before given instructions to halt. "Okay Kevin, your other hand. This time slide your weight forward on your left leg, and rotate your torso from right to left. Go ahead now..." the Elf chuckled, knowing Kevin was far from competent with his left hand as he was with his right. How clumsy Humans had become, these days. Kevin sighed and nodded, adjusting his stance and sliding his left foot forward and using his right as a base. Holding his blade somewhat awkwardly in a horizontal motion, he lifted it and brought it down, hearing the 'thunk' that signified he had not missed. He had struck the Pall's figure in the side of the head, though that was far from what he was aiming for. "Ah, very well...you can't always get lucky in battles such as that, but that's fine enough. We'll practice with your left hand for another half-candlemark and then move along," Milthrandir spoke. Kevin did as he was told, and by the end of the lesson he felt slightly more confident in the usage of his left hand, though he was sure he could not go out into the real world and sever an Orc from head to toe.

"Stop, that is enough. Now, I know you think longswords were not primarily intended to be wielded with both hands - and you are correct in this statement. But I assure you, you will find yourself in a messy situation and insinctively place both hands on your weapon before you're given time to react. When you use two hands, you sacrifice speed and mobility for power. Always Kevin, always use the stance you are most comfortable with in the heat of battle. You were born using your right hand instead of your left, so use the stance you would use if you were right-handed," Milthrandir spoke. Kevin did as he was told, holding his longsword in both hands. He felt a rush of power tremor through him, and slowly he twisted his body towards the left, rising the blade high above his head. Without warning he brought it down in a powerful swipe, embedding his blade an inch into the solid wood. "Good. Now, back to single-handed grips. Circle around the target and slash where you will. Remember, diagonal slashes only...for now," Milthrandir spoke. Once again Kevin complied, circling around the target and never turning his back, his feet on their toes as he prepared to fall into stance and attack. They practice for a few more candlemarks, boosting Kevin's morale and skill with the longsword as he hailed down upon the would-be bloody Pall, inflicting a vast array of nicks and scrapes along it.

[Kevin Girth]

Milthrandir's eyes glimmered as Telath's suns' radiant rays of light reflected off them, taking in the view of the young Human as he struck at the Pall. The elderly elf had lived nearly eight times as long as Kevin had been around, and for a brief moment Milthrandir felt the tad-bit of sorrow that cursed the Human race. Or was he cursed? You would get to know a Human...befriend them...and then they would die in the amount of time it took to turn around. Where did all those eras go? His youth? Four times as long as Kevin's - and even then he had remained immature up until adulthood. Why was it...no. How. How was it that the Human race had managed to grasp such a firm hold upon the Empire? In such short time? Ah...well, that was how Fate worked - however the Gods seemed to deem it.

Milthrandir was no novice to war. He had served with his kin in Silrosia, had protected the bastion of elven glory for countless patterns. He had met important figures - had been healed by an Archdruidess, had known and remembered the lost lineage of Elven Kings. Kevin's teacher was as well trained in the blade as he was in Archery, and few could contest his marksmanship on the island. He had slewn enough Vysstichi to fill a room with their corpse, an ocean of their blood. And yet somewhere in the past hundred patterns, he had matured and realized the true meaning of life. Stubborn, stalwart, and hungered for glory, Milthrandir had found his purpose in the midst of war, in a time of turmoil. Yet he summoned the wisdom to learn from his mistakes; and here he was now: teaching young people what he had mastered over the timespan of lives.

"That is enough, Kevin," Milthrandir spoke with a weary tone yet cheerful-enough grin, stepping forward to signify his desire to halt Kevin's lesson. "It seems you've mastered enough of a grip on the diagonal slash for today Kevin. Of course, this class is only an introduction. After we master the slashes and thrust today, I will continue you drill you for the remaining part of the cycle. And you had better keep yourself in shape and at practice when we're not - the Academy Training Grounds are always open to past-time pupils. Never give yourself a break if you have the chance to surpass your limts...and then surpass those as well," Milthrandir grinned as he beckoned Kevin to a new post, this one with a better-drawn chalk figure of a man.

Drawing out his own elven blade - Kevin could not help but notice the runes running down upon it - Milthrandir circled around the Pall with a wolfish ambition in his eyes. "The next slash you will learn is the vertical slash. There are two parts to this, as there is every slash. The downward and upward. The downwards slash is extremely powerful, especially in two hands, and can potentially inflict major wounds. The upwards slash is one that is often left out of training - and very unexpected. It is hard for most students, especially at basic, to master the momentum to create an upwards slash...but if they can they are given a skill that can hardly be blocked. Observe..." Milthrandir spoke as he tapped his blade along the line of chalk that ran vertically up the middle of the Pall. With a wink, he quickly stepped forward and rose his arm in a flurry, descended, and hewed the wooden structure in two for half a foot. Acting just as quickly, he pivoted on his right foot and turned, bringing his blade around and flicking upwards with his wrist, striking the pall upwards and causing a major gash to be seen in what would have been a bleeding human. "You see? Now you try," the elf spoke, sheathing his sword back into its black leather scabbard and stepping back to allow Kevin enough room.

Kevin nodded and gripped his longsword firmly, resisting the urge to hold it with both swords and go beserk upon the wooden structure. He loosened the last two fingers slightly, finally beginning to become accustomed to the proper grip to hold a sword. Sliding his fight shoulder-width apart and shuffling his right foot forwards, Kevin bent his knees and adjusted himself upwards on his toes. Then, shifting his weight towards his front right foot and rolling his torso with the swing, Kevin hurled the longsword over his head and brought it down quickly....missing the Pall in its entirety. "No, no, no. Not like that. Size up the Pall first before you strike. You must build accuracy before power Kevin, otherwise you'll be dead in a moment's notice! Try again...this time concentrate," Milthrandir chastised the Human before stepping back again - bidding Kevin to continue. Kevin frowned, the obscure facial gesture marring his hansom features slightly as he ran a hand through his dark-brown hair. He had missed! How come and why? Sighing, Kevin fell back into an attacking position, this time focusing upon himself and his blade. It was only an extension of his arm. Slowly Kevin became more perceptive about the area around him. He'd have to bend his arm at the elbow before he rose the blade, then straighten it for power and reach as it came down.

Kevin's eyes snapped open, and he quickly reacted. Within a second he adjusted his weight forwards, his arm and shoulder muscles already contracting as they rolled backwards, his torso turning with the sword to give him the boost of power. Straightening the blade as he turned, Kevin's arm rose upwards in an arch before narrowing downwards, shooting in the speed of light before a sharp vibration rang up against Kevin's arm. He had hit it. And it hurt! Kevin winced slightly as he withdrew his blade, tossing the handle into his left hand as he shook out his right arm. "Ah...the shock. Yes, there is really no way to handle that except by wearing swordsman gloves. You will have to train yourself against it. Now, go ahead and continue with vertical slashes - try some upward ones while you're here, while I go and grab us a bite to eat. Eh'?" Milthrandir chuckled before turning on the heel of his foot and walking off back towards the pavillion. Obviously he had something in mind.

Kevin continued to lash out violently against the Pall, forcing himself to restrain from dropping the blade every time the shock or wave of pain ran up his arm. He was disciplining himself into becomming accustomed to the force of the blow. Gritting his teeth, Kevin soldiered on, finally ending his downward slashes and beginning upward ones. Although Milthrandir was not present, Kevin had been quick to notice the flick of the wrist, the quick turn that brought the blade sailing upwards. This slash was much more easier to handle, though tricky to master. Eventually he could direct the blade wherever he wanted it to go, following up raising it diagonally and then swinging his arm downwards once more. It was a dance, a weave...like Arcana! Instead of weaving a spell with Mana, he was weaving a combination of attacks with pure strength and agility, creating a flurry of moves up until the point where the Pall was as nearly damaged as the last. The shock of the blade began to have little effect upon Kevin. Two candlemarks later Milthrandir returned, apologizing profusely to his pupil in the defense that he had been asked to run the management desk for a bit while the receptionist went out to eat. Grinning from ear-to-ear, Kevin brushed off the apology and took the cooked fish gladly. Chowing down and taking a few swigs out of his flask, Kevin kept his mastery of slashes and combinations to himself - he would let Milthrandir find out for himself later.

[Kevin Girth]

"Yes, now try again Kevin," Milthrandir spoke, keeping his distance while the Humanoid renewed his practice in the horizontal slash. It was different from the others, that was for sure. While the diagonal and vertical slashes seemed to favor the sheer power and advantage of gravity, the horizontal method had its downsides. For one thing, the slash was open to deflections. Another was the lack of downward pull, Kevin had to keep his arm locked to continue the swing - though at later intervals in his training he would find that the initial momentum and rotatation of his torso was far more than enough. A frown marred his facial features each time he was corrected upon his swordsmanship, and although he was grateful to Milthrandir for the instruction, and no doubt was receiving his money's worth, Kevin could not help but remain less-than-impressed with himself after each try. "It is a horizontal slash Kevin. I know it's tricky but you'll have to overcome it. It'll give you more reach as you would imagine, but I do find it rather useless with a two-hand grip. Go ahead and continue to practice," the elderly elf stated before resuming his stance of nonchalance, a safe ten feet or so away, of course.

Kevin continued to practice against the Pall, flicking his wrist each time he adjusted his swing from left to right and right to left, switching between both ways of entrance and hands. He was beginning to become ambidexterous, if not slowly. Falling back into his stance, Kevin placed his feet shoulder-width apart and slid his right foot forward, assuming the attack as he shifted his weight forward and began again - hurling himself almost at the Pall with utmost ferocity. Balancing himself on his toes and bending his knees ever so slightly, Kevin leaned forward to attack, gripping the sword firmly yet properly. As he swung, he twisted his torso towards the right, following his blade. The elven longsword wisped through the air and struck the Pall where he had desired, sending a small tingle and vibration up the Human's arm. Milthrandir applauded cordially before crossing his arms over his chest, instructing Kevin to repeat it again and again. Eventually, after another candlemark's worth of practice, the elf stopped Kevin from continuing and the two took a water break. The three suns of Telath were beginning to fade from afternoon to evening, their golden rays lingering for a few more candlemarks until turning to dusk. Milthrandir walked back to his campsite to commerce with Daragin for a few moments, whilst Kevin hacked away at the Pall reviewing the slashes. It was sunset when he returned.

"Very nice Kevin. I see improvements in your footwork, and that comforts me. Soon you will be as agile as I am!" Milthrandir spoke, though he doubted his words. Eventually, perhaps, but definitely not soon. Kevin had lived with his clumsy Human build far too long to be void of his rolling mass of muscle. Still, it helped his resilience, and that would of course be useful in tight situations. Physical fitness was not ill-afforded, and hard to come by these days. With cycles of countless training and exercise devoted every day, Kevin could easily became as athletic as Daragin or his elven counterpart. And yet even still the youth would need to stay in shape...

[Kevin Girth]

"You've seemed a bit more determined than any of my other students, what is it you do for a living Kevin?" the elderly elf asked, intrigued by the younger Human's life as he sat down cross-legged upon the lush grass and began to choke down a warm bowl of soup and a crust of bread, continuing to watch his student slash away and practice against the Pall. Kevin would eat when he deserved it. Or when he passed out. Whichever came first.

Kevin could only grit his teeth as he soldiered on, swinging his blade this way and that as his arm went numb, his legs too busy circling around the Pall to present the best possible angle. "Right now?" Kevin asked between a stroke, taking a moment's respite as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Unexmployed. The concentration probably comes from my Initiate Elementalism training. I'm hoping to head down southwest towards the cities inland and take a career as a soldier or mercanary. Y'know? I'm not entirely too worried about the future, the next rent, my upcoming paycheck. I try to survive day-to-day, nothing else matters but then," Kevin spoke with a sigh as he took up his blade and continued to practice. No doubt this was also disciplining him. Milthrandir's eyes glittered in the sun's failing light, the slightest hint of admiration twinkling about in a majestic sort of way. Partially the Elf was beginning to understand Kevin Girth and his race's inexplicably short life. Another part of him thought the pupil insane.

"Okay Kevin, you may stop. Take a break and have a drink of water. Don't eat anything or you'll cramp up," the senior advised as he handed out a waterskin to the young warrior. The two rested for about ten minutes, Milthrandir quietly finishing his soup in silence as Kevin's breathing slowed to a steady pace. Standing up quite unexpectedly, Milthrandir drew his sword and beckoned Kevin to come closer. "The thrust is potentially the most dangerous attack a swordsman can use, if done properly and in the right hands. You see, it comes often unexpected...and could be devastating. The only way to deflect it is to parry it away from your body, and even then your coordination must be good or they'll counter with an upwards slash. To thrust, hold your blade firmly with the last two fingers loose. Fall into the stance and shift your weight to your back leg, as you would defensively. Remember that. Now, when you thrust you need to hold your blade aloft like this, horizontally out in front of you. Rotate your chest a bit to the right with the blade, and then lunge as if all Aerternia broke loose. Shift your weight forward to propel your body...and bring your chest and arm forward. Reach and twist, as I always say. Go ahead and try, right here should do it..." Milthrandir spoke as he took the piece of chalk and drew a large circle on the middle part of the Pall. A large circle Kevin could hardly see what with the dimming light. Sighing but consenting, Kevin fell into the proper stance and brought his blade up. Twisting and propelling his weight forward, his blade missed the Pall yet grazed its side. He still had a lot of work to do.

[Kevin Girth]

"Never mistake the Pall as the equivalent of the real thing. To become a true swordsman, you'll have to develop other methods of training that will test your skills, put you on the very brink of your development and all you stand for. However, at basic training most of your practice will be focused around the Pall. I would recommend it for a good source of daily usage, besides...you can get a lot further using a wooden post than your nearest neighbor," Milthrandir spoke with a chuckle as he reached across and drew out his elven longsword. The blade glimmered at Telath's suns' fading light, reflecting perhaps the last ray of the horizon before becomming enshrouded in dusk. "Do not worry. We're done for today, go home and take some rest. The rest of your lessons for the cycle will be noticeably shorter, after all...you're not my only student! However, you can arrive at about noon and we will practice dueling for a few candlemarks, four I think will do it justice. You will however, stay until sunset - and feel obliged to come earlier. I expect nothing less. So, for all practicallity, you should arrive about two hours before noon and condition yourself. Sleep in, eat a hearty breakfast, and take care of your body before you begin to exercise it. When you arrive, do the same training techniques we went over earlier. Push yourself if you like, but make sure you'll be ready for the dueling practice. I assure you, it will not be easy," Milthrandir spoke as he glanced over his blade. Quickly he sheathed it and bowed to his student, a bow which was gladly returned. Kevin was finally done for the day, and after cleaning down his sword with a neat rag and flask of oil, he felt content with the knowledge he had learned.

~~~

The next brightening went by fairly quickly. Kevin woke up at sunrise, but fell back asleep for another three and a half candlemarks and received a much needed rest. He had pushed his body to a strict and rigorous point the day before, and now it was relieving itself of some of the soreness. The Human expected no less when he awoke, taking out an apple and munching upon it heartily as he dressed and strapped his equipment onto his girdle. His hand rested calmly on the pommel of his longsword, a sheer rush of joy emitting from the Human simply because he was positive that was what that was called. Adjusting the folds of his cloak and making his hair look presentable, Kevin smiled and began to meander slowly to the institute, a good full candlemark early from what Milthrandir had advised. He finally reached the Training Grounds with half a candlemark to spare. The elderly elf saw his second-newest pupil enter, and cheerfully waved to allow Kevin access to all the grounds had to offer. Kevin returned it cordially and set down his cloak and vest underneath the pavillion, his longsword neatly wrapped and concealed beneath. With that finished, he started off in the long and ardous run around the Academy, this time by himself. He felt the need to walk and slow down, and was tempted to do so simply by the knowledge that no one was paying any attention. Yet he continued, as he always would, discplined to the very core of his heart. Kevin's parents had always thought the lad would do well in the military, and that was true. The only essence that relieved Kevin of any eagerness to sign up and take Arms with the Imperial Army was the confinement and restriction that was placed upon each individual soldier afterwards.

After finishing the two mile jog, Kevin returned to the pavillion and began a series of stretches. Grinning inwardly to himself, the Human made sure his biceps and leg muscles were all clearly stretched before falling into the drilling exercises Milthrandir had taught him the day before. Quickly he finished a set of twenty push-ups, before halting, rolling over onto his back, and beginning military protocol sit-ups. He sped up, doing as many as he could within a minute before taking a minute break and repeating the process. Gradually over the cycle the sets increased, from twenty to fourty or so. It was an improvement that was meant to be admired, and for Kevin's sake it was - chiefly by himnself. After finishing his muscle-building exercises Kevin walked back to the line of Palls. Milthrandir met him there, taking a short break with his previous student to inspect how Kevin was coming along. Kevin was quickly instructed to run in between the Palls to the end and back. Afterwards, he repeated the exercise backwards at a swiftly-paced jog. Then the real challenge was proposed. Milthrandir quickly removed a bandanna and tied it neatly over Kevin's eyes. Placing Kevin directly into the front Pall, he spoke in a mellow tone, "Now I want you to run between these Palls blindfolded. There are twenty of them. I have just placed you a foot away from the first. Go ahead. When you reach the end, you may remove your blindfold and see how well you've done. Repeat this three times - I'll be watching!"

Kevin acted quickly, sidestepped to his right and jogging lightly forwards. From what he could remember, each wooden post was perhaps ten or so feet apart. Holding his hands out in front of him - he must have looked like some circus freak at this point, yet all things had a reason - Kevin edged slowly forward. Yep. Ten feet. Sidestepping again, Kevin began to jog lightly, holding his right hand out to feel for the next post. Everytime he felt a post he switched directions and went around it. When he reached the end, he relieved the bandanna from around his head and glanced back, clearly impressed with himself. Slowly, if by a few increments every day, he was becomming more physically fit and agile than he had ever been before. And now his perceptions were being tested.

[Kevin Girth]

Kevin repeated his exercises for many brightenings, until it inevitably came down to the last day of what would have been a cycle. His body was now a firm, taut mass of muscle, not quite ripped but well on its way to physical perfection. Milthrandir had watched Kevin's grace and agility improve steadily over the last few days, until Kevin had found himself in a heightened state of sense. The Human had learned to use his ears and sense of smell while blindfolded, which led to the suggestion that, with a bit more training, he would perform quite well if blinded during the middle of a fight. Regardless, the last day of Kevin's basic training crept up surprisingly on both Master and Student. After running between the Palls for a good half-candlemark, Milthrandir assigned him to halt and quickly dissapeared back towards the Pavillion. Moments later his bobbing head reappeared, with a light layer of sweat glistening across his brow as he tossed a wooden sword towards Kevin. The blade was nicked and chipped in many places, but still quite solid and surprisingly heavy for wood. Kevin took it and thrusted its tip into the ground, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. A pale slender hand gradually inched downwards and loosened the waterskin that had been latched to the Human's belt. With a pleasant grin Kevin lifted the skin to his lips and took a long draught of the seemingly pure springwater. Finishing slowly, his scarlet lips easily broke into a crescent smile as the invigorating substance filled him. Untangling his cloak and belt pouches, he set them aside with the skin atop of the dewy grass before reaching for the handle of his wooden sword and tugging it free from the earth.

"Alright then Kevin. I would like to test your skill with the longsword before I take leave of you. Upon passing this duel, you will have passed this course. Now - fall into the basic defensive stance, and prepare yourself!" Milthrandir nearly shouted the words before tugging his own sword free and coming forwards towards his student. Eyes rationalizing the distance between him and his mentor, Kevin had barely a few seconds to bring his blade upwards into a lopsided parry as he placed his weight firmly upon his back left foot. A stinging sensation filled Kevin's arm and he stumbled backwards a step. Within moments the fight continued, Kevin's maneuvers all defensive as he tried to come to some semblance of Milthrandir's sanity. Finally though, Milthrandir did slip. Whether the Master had done so purposefully was another story though. The highland Elf had thrusted his sword forward to deflect an arching diagonal slash, and in doing so had tripped over a rock in front of his right foot and had become off-balanced. Acting upon impulse, Kevin pivoted on his right foot and brought his blade around, whirling it with astounding efficiency for an Initiate until it met the clash of steel once again. However, as Milthrandir would not come to expect for many more cycles from a student trained in only the basics, Kevin's blow did not end there. Sliding his wooden sword atop of Milthrandir's blade, Kevin forced his weight upon the elf, likewise forcing his Master's blade downwards as well. Milthrandir slid free of the awkward embrace and darted backwards, parrying yet another blow as he caught his positioning and fell into a defensive stance. Kevin whirled in upon him.

A vertical slash quickly feinted into a diagonal chop across Milthrandir's shoulder. The elf parried. The blades met again in the form of a thrust. The elf sidestepped. The thrust fell into a horizontal arch. The elf parried. The horizontal arch surged upwards and then at an awkward angle, before cutting to the side once more to form a triangle in the air. Milthrandir began to parry the slash, but was not surprised to find a thrust awaiting him instead. Annoyed at his foolishness, the elf batted the wooden stick out of his way and quickly moved forward - stepping into Kevin's proximity within the reach of the Human's longsword. With a grin, he flicked his sword outwards, causing Kevin's arms to go wide. Milthrandir held up his own wooden sword teasingly against Kevin's throat before tossing it upon the ground and taking a few steps back. "Well done Kevin, I am impressed.

There are few things I could correct based off of what you knew previously. Your posture was slightly awkward, I would advise you find time to practice your agility and finesse when exchanging stances. However, your swordsmanship was impeccable for a beginner student, and the only thing that would need work is your footwork. You must always improvise upon your maneuvers. Build better ones off of them. Set your opponent up for a grand finale. Always improve upon yourself - that is how one achieves Mastery. Your beginner lessons are finished, though you are more than welcome to come and practice at the Training Grounds. The Palls are yours to use, and maybe every now and then we can have a duel to test your improvement. I suspect I will see you again soon for Intermediate lessons?" Milthrandir asked with a discreet chuckle as his almond-green eyes flicked towards his student. Kevin's cheerful nod confirmed it. "Good, very well then. Set your lessons up with the clerk and we will continue onwards with Intermediate Longsword. Have a nice day," the elf spoke quickly yet fluidly as he took the two wooden swords and began to trot back to the Pavillion. There was no need for goodbyes if the two were to see each other again a day or two later. And besides, Kevin would surely use the Palls at the Training Grounds to improve upon himself. Perhaps a day or two's worth of rest was in order?

[Dragon]

Approved Congratulations! And PM me with how much IC time the training took, I didn't catch it here.