The Taste of Cold Steel (Self-Moderated l Intermediate Longsword)

[Kevin Girth]

Towards the end of the Month of Ioannes in the Season of Summer,
of Era II of the Celestine Mandate Era XI,
Post Fractum in the Age of the Darkening.

Kevin's body lurched forward as he hauled himself out of bed, the mental time-clock ringing in his ears as his feet touched the cold wooden floors. If anything, Demios' weather was sporadic and spontaneous at its best, hazardous at its worse. Glancing out of his window, Kevin was thankful for having a roof over his head as he watched a bit more ice drop out of the sky. The reflective, glistening rocks broke as they hit the cobblestone streets, scattering into the dimly lit corners by the star's luminous light. The tapestry still hung over the morning's early sky, refusing to relinquish its hold to the golden rays growing in the east. An army of darkness, with its a scion of circular white standing as sentinel, it led its eternal assault against the horizon day after day, always fighting a never-ending battle that always wound up in defeat and then victory, followed by another douse of each.

A smirk spread across Kevin's features as he tugged on his leather boots. Milthrandir had told him to get five days of rest, and those five days had passed by quickly. His body was rested, no...more than rested, prepared. He was both mentally, and now physically, prepared for his intermediate training; fully ready to meet the challenges and expectations his elven Master had placed before him. Hazel eyes glanced downwards as Kevin finished tying his left boot, graceful rough hands moving over to pick up the right and tug that on as well. His toils and preparations had not come without consequences. He was gaunt, more lean than ever before, both from staying physically fit and also from pressing on through lunch, sometimes even breakfast. He hadn't relaxed enough. He didn't take breaks. Milthrandir had pointed out the Human's faults constantly, and all Kevin did was acknowledge them. He knew what he was becomming: something unhuman...almost like a drone. But just a little bit more. A little while longer, he had always told himself, and then that too led to his victory. Soon he had conquered his boundraries. Thrown his limits into the dust. Destroyed his physical barriers. And by surpassing them he had surpassed himself; snapped into a rigid discipline he could not afford to counter, he had found an inner fire that helped fuel him during those desperate times of need. He had his benefits, as well. He was now dastardly skilled with a blade, and his footwork and fluidity had improved beyond a measure of obtainability. His body was a taut mass of rippling muscle, clearly buff but not overly done. He kept his father's grace in that regard, sporting muscle but only enough to be outlined.

Standing up, Kevin was nearing the end of his dressing. His apparel was limited to the amount of money he made, and then some. Luckily he was not walking around stark naked, as his job would have him - seeing as Kevin had no job currently -, but rather he wore a tattered white linen shirt, black woven pants, and brown leather boots not-so-dusty as travellers would make them. After all, he had been in Demios for little more than a month by now. His hair was lighter, with light-brown highlights, a mixture of blondish red, streaking through it; an unusual side-effect of having been out in the sun for a bit too long. Wrapping his dark-green elven cloak about him, Kevin strapped his longsword to girdle and made way towards the training grounds. He arrived shortly afterwards, fortunately without the chance of dodging large chunks of ice or whatever else the chaotic weather hurled at its denizens. Passing past the Institute and following the path that brambled around the Academy, he slowly made his way down the dewy slopes towards the singular figure of an elf. It was early. Kevin was early. And seemingly, Milthrandir was early as well. But then again, Kevin was only Human. He didn't have the time in his life to go running about late and what nonsense.

"Serale Master, it's good to see your punctuality still exists," Kevin joked with a wolfish grin, stepping forward and standing only a mere foot away from his friend.

"And Serale to you Kevin. I'm glad your sense of humor is intact, you'll need it throughout the month," Milthrandir returned the banter, smiling placidly from ear to ear. Indeed he would...

[Kevin Girth]

"Please, follow me," Milthrandir spoke in a mellow tone, turning on the heel of his leather boots and stalking off towards the Pavillion. It was an order, if not a sugar-coated one, and Kevin hastened to obey. Walking steadily behind the elf and matching the long strides of the taller individual, Kevin wrapped his emerald cloak closer about him as a cool breeze rustled past the Forest's leaves and outlined the slim figure of Kevin's frame. "I take it you enjoyed your short vacation? Was it well spent?" Milthrandir asked with a hint of humor in his tone. Many Instructors at the Academy had been present in the Leap of Faith when Kevin had been slapped by a waitress and turned down for more ale. Nearly all of them personally came to Milthrandir and scolded him for his advice. Yet it was well spent regardless - Kevin was able to relax and let go a bit, and now he seemed more than fit for the training that he was to endure.

"It was...okay, I suppose. Bearable," Kevin joked lightly, following his Elven mentor under the Pavillion. Underneath the gracefully crafted stone - without a trace of crack or separation - was a small desk, countered by a wooden shelve on the opposite side. Both were situated in the center, an ample protection against rain and snow and ice provided by the awning above. Upon the shelves were books and tomes on warfare and survival, ranging from the different types of blades to how to start a campire, stretching even beyond the history of the Empire to the tales of the barbaric tribes that inhabitated the mainland not too far from here. The only remarkable thing was a rather beastly looking skull that stood sentinel atop of a dark-green spinded book, its head the base of a flickering candle. The desk, however, was much more interesting. With a lantern securely attached on its right side, and a few books and paperwork weighted down carefully, it was obvious someone had been present this morning to tidy the place up. Lit by the flame that was dancing wildly within the glass panels, Milthrandir had set one book apart from the others and had flipped to his desired page. Approaching his desk, he quickly turned around and grinned at his student. "Kevin, it is of some importance not only to understand how to wield your weapon, but to learn of its history as well. At an Intermediate course in swordsmanship, you'll only be accounted for a very crude, basic bit of history...unless we find we have more time than I reckon to spend on study. Now...the title of this book is called Allerian Warfare Through The Ages. It's a good bit of writing material, and I would strongly advise you pick it up from the bookstore here in Demios. Shouldn't be too much, no more than twenty crowns at the highest. Then again, I suppose it all depends on the old man's mood...anyways - stay here and read through the discovery of iron. I don't expect you to understand much of it, but -...well, just read it. I'll be back in a second," the receding elf spoke as he quickly left the Pavillion and headed back towards his cabin - no doubt he had forgotten something tat would be used today. Kevin quietly pulled out the finely crafted stool and sat atop of it, settling his arms to either side of the novel and bringing the lantern a bit closer for better light. With a quiet sigh, he began to read...even though it was much too early in the fethin' morning for this.

The Khardran War Machine

- With a labor force now free to engage in military creation, the search for hard substances with which to replace the overly expensive bronze, which had been reserved only for the elite aristocracy, was fully under way. The discovery of iron in the Khardran Mountains led to the widespread democratization of armor and weaponry in that region, and the orcs of Khardra attempted to establish a greater Khardran Empire during this period but ultimately failed due largely to infighting within its unlikely confederation and not, as Odin Khrias suggests, because an alliance of humans overcame Khardran military supremacy. Khardra, herself the junior partner in the Khardran Empire, though the center of military operations, was a hydrollic fortified palace-city under the tyrant oligarchy of the Seven Orcs. With over 150,000 men, the Khardrans waged a campaign of terror and deliberation. Using infantry, cavalry and chariots, the Khardrans extended an Empire that reached Northern Sherian, Southern Carmelyn, and most of modern day Prime Province. The Khardran Army eventually over-extended itself and was plunged into a civil war between greedy tyrants when a significantly weaker human army teamed up with dwarves and elves to drive the Khardrans into the obscurity of history.

It was...perhaps, only the first two sentences that held any importance to what Milthrandir had described earlier, but by the time Kevin had finished reading the fleet-footed Elf had returned and set aside a large wooden chest of equipment. "Finished? Good good!" the Elf spoke as he came over beside Kevin and leaned his weight against the table, crossing his arms in front of him. He struck quite the pose, with his blonde-colored hair cascading down his back, piercing green almond eyes glancing off into the distance, elbow propped to support his chin. "Now...as I'm sure you understand, before the discovery of iron only the rich could afford to wield weapons made of bronze. It was... a rather weak metal, to be sure, but it was found in such frugal supplies that the price justified the amount. However, the Khardrans found a different means. They discovered iron, and in ample amount. The Khardran Mountains, rightfully named, contain vast amounts of iron to this very day, as well as more precious metals," Milthrandir spoke with a grin, and he could not have more plainly spoken Mithril. "Regardless, after the discovery of iron, and the soon defeat of those bastardly Orcs, tons of city-states were able to economise on iron, and soon there was ample trade between nations. All nations, of course, except the barbaric tribes to the north. Regardless, soon armies were outfitted in the precious material, and in a matter of patterns wars were being waged. Now...iron, coupled with these wars, brought the need for new weapons. Swords had been around for decades, although in the cheap form of bronze, but with the usage of iron they were now more strong and durable. Smiths began to capitalize on swords, and created different types and forms. Greatswords were made, along with various types of daggers. But the most popular of them was the long-sword. A single-handed blade, and sometimes used with two, it was most noticable for its long-reach. Generals and Privates alike trained in its usage, and its useful ability to be paired with a shield and still be utilized efficiently brought many armies to their knees. In no time at all, the Empire was forged - at the tip of a blade and a hangman's axe. Without the discovery of iron, we would not know the variations of swords today. In fact, we'd probably still be fighting with crude sticks and stone axes!" the Elf joked, his eyes twinkling in mirth. Kevin swallowed, making multiple mental notes. It was, needless to say, a lot to take in...

[Kevin Girth]

"So...we owe the development of the longsword thanks to the discovery of iron?" Kevin asked somewhat timidly, unsure if he had understood all of what Milthrandir had spoken. Hazel eyes blinked once or twice back at the paragraph he had just read. So...he owed the blade at his waist to a bunch of scatter-brained orcs under an Obligarchy. It was surprising how the fate worked. The most despised of races had lead to the development of some of the most useful things on Telath. Shrugging off the irony, Kevin glanced back upwards at Milthrandir, awaiting a response. Meanwhile, his pale hands lifted and brushed back the brown tresses that had hung in his eyes, gracefully placing them behind each ear.

"Precisely Kevin. Few people stop to consider that fact in such a crude way as you've put it, but that's what it narrows down to. We owe the development of the very blade in your sheathe to a bunch of Orcs in Telath's past. Of course, the civilization of the Empire only spurred the economy and monopoly upon such weapons," Milthrandir continued with a wink, straightening himself off of the desk, removing off his cloak and placing it atop the stool in the process. Just as swiftly he bent over the wooden chest he had carried from the equipment room, unlocked it, and hauled out two weighted blades. A bark-like laugh resided after Kevin had arched his eyebrows in surprise. "No, no...we will not be using these this brightening. These we will use later. For now..." the Elven Sword-master trailed off as he picked up two finely crafted swords of Damascus steel. They were quite real, and quite blunt, but the steel was still flexible to a degree. "Damascus steel is best for training...you see, since it is so flexible, and now very blunt, it will sting but most likely not cut through the skin. Here - this is yours as well," Milthrandir spoke as he handed the Human a rather dull shirt of chainmail. "For thrusts," was the only explanation he offered, and Kevin was expected to put on both. Moments later Kevin had placed his cloak, sheathe, sword, and girdle underneath the desk upon the cool dewy grass, and had in turn taken on the chainshirt. In his right hand, firmly but not too loosely, was the sword.

Silence endured as he followed Milthrandir out of the Pavillion and into the clearing, padding along quietly atop the dirt behind the Elf. A slight crescent smile curved upon his red lips; it would be the first time since his initial training that Milthrandir would see Kevin's skill with a blade once again. Sighing wistfully, Kevin followed Milthrandir until they came to a patch of long-bladed grass. There was no noise, no movement, not a hint of life except the faint breathing from either person. The wooded forest about him swayed silently in the faint morning's breeze, but not a single bird chirped a tune in dawn's early light. The two swordsmen positioned themselves opposite of one another, ten feet away. Not a word was issued, but Kevin could tell that he was about to be brought into a duel. Milthrandir's footing told him enough. Silently, the Human's eyes narrowed in focus as he spread his feet shoulder-width apart and brought his sword up in front of him. Milthrandir smiled, and did the same. "It is time, Kevin...to learn how to utilize the environment around you to your advantage," Milthrandir spoke.

A second later, dawn's first rays pierced the horizon, piercing directly into Kevin's stinging eyes. A sharp bit of pain and a rustle of footsteps was all Kevin knew before he felt his blade parried to the right...

[Kevin Girth]

Blinded, and now without his weapon in place, Kevin was in a heap of trouble. The blades Milthrandir and him were using were not of wood - they were of steel. And steel, albeit how blunted it could become, still hurt a lot more than wood. After all, was that not why they were wearing the chainshirts, to absorb some of the blows? Kevin's eyes closed, his blade nearly knocked out of his hands and pointed towards the ground, Kevin pivoted on his right foot swiftly, his heel grinding into the ground as he swung his body around away from the sun's deadly light. In the process, he made to raise his sword, but felt it struck again, a strong vibration running up his arm. Apparently, Milthrandir had other intentions in mind.

The hazel eyes flickered open, immediately darting from left to right as Kevin's body fell into the defensive stance. And there was Milthrandir, no more than five feet away, his blade already above his shoulder and swiftly executing what would appear to be a diagonal slash. Or was it a feint? No...not this early into the battle, at least not quite as soon. Kevin had only just regained his momentum after all. With a flick of his wrist Kevin brought his blade up, and with the aide of his torso he felt his own longsword turn sharply into the air before coming up to parry away the Elf's blow. The two swords met, and a small shock went up Kevin's arm, but instead of letting the blade fall limply out of his hand, the Human grinded his teeth instead and continued to finish the parry, knocking Milthrandir's blade behind him. But he was too eager. Stepping forward, Kevin feinted a thrust and instead cut across horizontally, an easily recognizable feint that was parried before Kevin could blink an eye, hurling Kevin back on the defensive. Milthrandir pressed on with a series of low thrusts and jabs, and Kevin stiffly sidestepped to avoid parrying all the blows. The elven master continued the assault, relentless in all intentions, and Kevin was forced back upon uneven ground as he parried up a hill. Of course, Milthrandir had spoken about utilizing the environment to one's advantage, so it was no surprise that, while being lower upon the hill, he dropped into a low crouch and came beneath Kevin's defenses. Out of instinct Kevin brought his sword down to parry, to parry a blow that was not there. Yelping, Kevin fought against a sharp pain in his left shin, and stumbled a few feet backwards, this time to his right. "What was that?" Kevin almost yelled, swiftly dropping into a crouch but keeping his blade raised. His left hand swiftly rubbed away the pain.

"You should not have backed up onto the hill. Now...now that we've warmed up, it is time for you to learn a few combinations. For Ioaness sake, Kevin, get yourself up off the ground! The blow was not that painful, I should imagine, and it'll do you a lesson of good to take pain without such obvious injury," Milthrandir spoke, his voice fading from being stern as a flicker of a grin lit up across his lips. "Combinations. The first one I shall teach you is fairly simple, and fairly offensive. Now, first you must assume the defensive stance," Milthrandir spoke, mirroring his words with his actions and telling Kevin to do the same. "Then, when the time comes, and you are to parry a horizontal, or diagonal slash, instead of allowing your blades to slide off one another, I want you to force your own down to the hilt. This will, temporarily I'm sure, put yourself in control of your opponent's blade, as you would be driving down the hilt. Once you have him locked, the next step is to force his blade to the lower left or lower right, but continue forcing it through a complete circle in either direction. Use your wrist to rotate your own blade as your arm and shoulder applies the power. You attack him once his blade is at its height, you see, so that he will be unable to parry, or recover in time to make an attach of his own. When both of your blades are above each others head, you have an option. Both of you perhaps have one hand free. Maybe he has both of his hands on his blade, in which case, you had better have both of your hands on yours! It is a matter of power, when this combination applies, not of agility or speed. You must force his blade through the circle, completing the combination. However, if you have one hand free, you may choose to take the time to punch your opponent in the face, or maybe the stomach. Perhaps even trip him with your footing, if you are sure of it. Improvision is always put to good usage on these combinations, furthering them from an intermediate expected type up to the advanced stages of a veteran warrior. Anyways, if you choose not to punch or harm your opponent through unarmed means, your blade is still at his hilt. It is here where you hold another obvious advantage. With your blade at the hilt, and his straight up in the air, it is quite easy for you to lift your blade off of the gaurd and drive downwards, whereas he would have to wait for you to do so, and then perform a vertical slash regardless. It is only when you remove your blade from his gaurd that he is now in power. In most cases, you can prevent him from slashing you in two easy ways. The first is to apply ample power to his gaurd, causing his blade to go behind his head and catching him off balance. Of course, if he can survive the stretch of his arms and not fall over, this only gives him momentum for a vertical slash. The second way would be to dispatch him before he dispatches you. After you lift your blade free of his gaurd, you're free to his head and his neck. The neck is one of the weakest of places in armor, and a swift diagonal slash could put an end to any man's life. Now, go ahead and try it on me, just to make sure you understand," Milthrandir spoke, assuming an attack stance. Once Kevin was prepared, Milthrandir came at him, launching a slow and painstakingly obvious horizontal slash, which Kevin parried. The Human found it much easier than he had expected to slide his blade down upon the Elf's gaurd and catch it there. Between the stocky Human and rather slender elf, it was rather easy for the student to overpower the Master in such a circumstance, and soon Kevin found himself bringing both his and Milthrandir's blades in a graceful arch from their feet through their right and up high above their heads. Shoving his force into his arms, Kevin stepped forward and pushed Milthrandir's longsword far behind his head, unbalancing the elf through the process, and lifting his own longsword up just in time to have executed a swift strike to the neck.

All in all, it was a rather good move, Kevin thought.

[Kevin Girth]

"Every movement you make, every combination you perform, every blow you parry should bring to you an advantage, or take away a disadvantage. For example, the arch combination I just taught you took away your opponents advantage, and brought to you another: forcing him to become unbalanced, and possibly allowing you to kill him at the same time. Speed is of the essence in every battle, and there is no fair fight, however much others may preach it. When anyone is fighting for their lives, by all means I assure you the last thing on their minds is the rules of engagement. I recommend you learn unarmed combat as well, Kevin, as most duels on the battlefield allegedly become brawls within moments from the start. Now, as such, your next offensive combination technique envolves both brute strength and finesse. With luck, you'll be able to not only trip your opponent, but perhaps disarm him at the same time. Observe," Milthrandir spoke as he brought his blade, performing a horizontal slash that was easily parried away from Kevin's mid-side. As Kevin parried the blow from his right, he felt the force and gravitation pushing against his sword suddenly leave and come up upon the other side, pushing his arm out wide and nearly causing him to swing his sword behind him, possibly causing harm to himself. As such, the quick grace and finesse of the Elf allowed Milthrandir to step forward only a mere foot away from Kevin. Snaking his boot and shin around Kevin's back leg, he pulled sharply and sent Kevin toppling backwards, all the while keeping his own longsword up and pushing back against Kevin's. The Human felt his weight momentarily shift to his left foot before toppling backwards, landing hard on his rump in the soft dewy grass, blade now flown out to his right - albeit still in his grasp.

"You see? You bat away any chance he has of parrying your blow by feinting, and then you step close into his body space and trip him. A simple maneuver, really, but one that is often forgotten on the field of battle. Now, one thing I must warn you against is the possibility of your opponent drawing a dagger, or some other crude weapon. That is why you always parry them to the right and then switch sword-hands, so you have your right hand to match their left. After that, it is simply a contest of power," the elf spoke with a joyful wink, extending his hand and helping Kevin back up onto his two feet. They practiced the maneuver three times, the first one unsuccessful in tripping the elf, the second one somewhat hap-hazard as they both fell forward, and the third executed in sloppy perfection. "You will need some help, but seeing as you cannot practice hardly any of these combinations against a Pall, we'll just work with what we have...that being each other, for the time being. Now, the next maneuver is offensive, but you must first be in a pitiful situation to use it. On your knees Kevin, don't give me any speculative looks, get on them! Good. Now, grovel. You're about to die, pretending I remind you, and you've just been knocked down. Your opponent is just about to deliver the final blow. Time your own perfectly. No longer than five seconds can you afford to wait, and act on two. You want to appear as if you've been defeated, lure and trick your opponent into thinking he has won. Most men's fears melt away in the illusion of victory. Very good. Now, remember you are on your knees, and may be leaning forward and bracing yourself on the ground with your arms and hands. In five seconds, no more, but certainly less if you feel you're ready, I want you to roll onto your back but continue rolling. You roll onto your back so you can free your right-hand and thrust upwards - or parry if you've timed it wrong. Once you are completely ambidexterous, it does not matter what direction you roll, but you want to roll towards your opponent. Roll into his space so that he must move backwards, or risk harming himself in any endeavor. If you roll away, he has simply to step forward and thrust twice - and that will be the end of you. Now, it is always best to thrust into his stomach or kidneys, or the groin as well - so long as you are thrusting vertically. Stabbing him in the leg does not nullify anything he may do, nor the foot. If he is strong, he will still kill you before he falls backwards. That is why you must dispose of him quickly, especially when you are on the battlefield, and have other opponents nearby. Now, roll, turn, and dispatch. Practice it. Roll, turn, and dispatch. This maneuver takes away your disadvatange, because by the end of your thrust you should be on your feet, or parryiing to gain an advantage. It also prolongs your life in the fight, allowing your opponent time to make a mistake. Understand?" And so Kevin did.