[Crimson Tigers] Basic Training-Gabriel

[Shorty]

TS: 5th cycle of Immanis- PF XIII

Crimson Tigers recruits soon find that the tea and cookies is all a ruse, right after they sign their names on the line the tea is snatched up and the cookies withdrawn. Behind the recruiting tent is the much larger Crimson Tiger Barracks, headquarters for the Mercenary Regiment. Boxy and very straightforward, it would not win any awards in design, but it sufficed for what it was needed for. The first floor held the various administrative offices, the top two floors contained the barracks and officer quarters. New recruits are escorted into the processing center (located on the first floor of the three floor building), and soon are issued their equiptment.

"Let's go ladies! Assembly in five! Get out of you civvy duds and into the greatest color you will ever wear!" A burly Sergeant shouted at the panicked new recruits as they try desperately to change into their new uniforms right there in the processing room- no other amenities were offered. Each new recruit received the following:

Clothing

One standard issue cloak (Red)

Three standard issue trousers (Red)

Three standard issue woolen shirts (Red)

Five sets of undergarment (race specific, but still Red)


Armor

One pair of standard issue bracers

One pair of standard issue shinguards

One standard issue chainmail shirt

One standard issue helmet
(Yep, all red in color...)

Weaponry
(Will be received when weapons training begins.)

One standard issue shortsword

One standard issue training sword

One standard issue halberd

One standard issue training polearm

One standard issue dagger

"Let's go! Let's go! You all got two more minutes!" The Sergeant continued to coax the new recruits out from the building and outside. Outside was the parade ground used for inspections and muster.

Once outside more Tigers continued the shouting and forced the recruits into formation, making sure that a foot separated each new Private.

That finished the Sergeant strode outside, and stalked up and down the line of fresh meat. The human wore a sneer of disgust on his face as he inspected the soft bellies, and slouched stances of these new Crimson Tigers.

"I am Battalion Sergeant Andruus, and during the next month you will be learning the basics of soldiery from me! Commander Longgstom has entrusted me with the responsibility of making sure that at the first sign of trouble you see, you do not die and you do not piss in your pants! I will not ask you anything that I would not do, and though our methods may seem harsh at times- you will thank me later when you are standing face to face with a foe and you smile at the opportunity to keep the god's designs well stocked with fresh souls!" Andruus, stepped back, his powerful body seemingly been born with chain mail already on it. A corporal handed Andruus a piece of paper.

"ROLL CALL! Acknowledge your presence with a SIR! Nothing more, nothing less, got it maggots?" Sgt. Andruus shouted and began to go down the list alphabetically.

"...Glavok, Rishad!"
"Sir!"
"Havisham, Gabriel!"

Andruus waited for Gabriel to shout Sir before he finished the list.

[Gabriel Havisham]

Over the eras Gabriel had made an art of taking off his clothes. When it came to removing his clothes he was quick and efficient, if not even a bit artful. He'd spent many a darkening trying to seduce women into his bed and once he'd gotten them there he was never interested in wasting time with getting his clothes off. Getting them back on, however, had always been a bit of a slower process for him. It had never really been a problem. At the docks he very rarely was ever capable of being late because he very rarely held a steady job, at least not one that lasted for more than perhaps a month's time. It had nothing to do with his commitment to things, it was just the nature of the docks. For the most part he'd done well enough for himself though, always succeeding wherever he went.

Past the point of the standard clothing he pretty much followed the example of the others, not sure initially as to whether or not he was supposed to wear his armour as well. If the others put it on, then he would too. He smiled ever-so-slightly at the fact that the clothing and armour was all red - the colour of blood. He supposed it was really rather significant for his line of business, and he wasn't sure, but there was a possibility that an opponent would find it intimidating. It would make hiding damn hard though.

He didn't know whether or not it was a boon that he was apparently in better shape than most of the other new 'maggots'. He thought he might almost be somewhere in the middle, the average really than anything on either the top or the bottom. One stood out less when they were like every other bloke. Thirty eras working the docks had given him a hard body. He always avoided the easy work, he preferred the harder jobs, kept him more active and engaged. He had to wonder at the blessing of life that he had been given that others in the new generations would not have. He had the advantage of sixty-nine eras of life, and only having aged to the extent of a man of twenty-three of the previous patterns. Those of his generation were lucky to be blessed with such long time on Telath.

Hard times were promised him by the man, Sergeant Andruus, who made promises to apparently beat them and work them so hard that they would be eager to go into battle and die. Gabriel had to desperately fight off a smirk. He thought it was odd how ridiculously militaristic the Tigers were. One would have never guessed that a mercenary outfit would be so highly organized or, apparently, efficient and strict. Most people imagined mercenaries as blood thirsty bandits who were tolerated by the government. Which made him wonder why he had joined in the first place when that was his general idea about them as well. He was almost surprised about how willing he was to put aside any personal sense of morality for the sake of his own survival.

When his name was called he responded with a simple and resounding, "Sir!"

[Shorty]

B2-5Cycle One:
Learning about the Crimson Tigers

After roll call, Sergeant Andruus told everyone that training would not be within the barracks, but outside of Nexus Prime in the highlands where they owned a camp. The first brightening they marched the ten miles to the site which was manned by a few more trainers and a single officer in charge of the training platoon. It was a simple camp with a few wooden buildings, tents for the recruits to sleep in (in whatever the weather brings to them), a small armory, archery targets, a guard's tower. After the march they allowed the recruits to settle into their two-man dogtent which they would sleep in, sharing it with the other recruit who would be his "tent-mate". Together, as a team they would cook meals, set up the tent, clean their area, and look out for each other.

Gabriel's tent-mate was a rather earnest human named Tylov, tall and gangly, he seemed weaker than all the rest. However he was very friendly and shared some bread he carried with him hidden in his duffle bag.

The next brightening the recruits were woken up at the 4th candlemark, taken on a five-mile run, and ate breakfast. Afterwards they sat down and learned about the Crimson Tigers.

"The Crimson Tigers consist of over 1000 men and women-at arms. We are mercenary infantry regiment, but we handle everything from bodyguard work to collecting bounties, guardwork, as well as military contracts. You are expected to be more flexible than an average soldier, and at the end you will learn how to fight alone, in a small team, and as a regiment. You will be taught the dagger, the shortsword, and the halberd. Dagger's for close and dirty work. The shortsword is for guard missions, but can be used in every situation. The last weapon is the halberd, our trademark and iron fist that the Crimson Tiger's use to smash the enemy on the field of battle.

"First you must know that we expect discipline. We run on a military structure because that is what works best for the work we do. Respect your superiors, love your comrades, and punish your enemies. That is our motto! Repeat after me!" Andruss commanded and led again. "Respect your superiors, love your comrades, and punish your enemies. Here is the formation of the Crimson Tigers.

Headquarters Platoon:

1 Commander (Commander Klyne Longgstom)
1 Executive Officer (Lt. Col. Jakben)
1 Chief Aide-de-camp (Senior Capt. Jazniel-also serves as de facto Intelligence Officer.)
4 Aides-de-camp (4 Ensigns)
1 Color Sgt (Color Sgt Ironlock-)
12 Color Guard (2 Corporals, 8 Privates, and 2 Drummers- Also serves as personal guard for Longgstom)

Supply Platoon:
1 Quartermaster (Senior Capt. Pore)
2 Assistant Quartermasters (2 Ensigns)
1 Quartermaster Sgt
8 Quartermaster Helpers (1 Corporal and 7 Privates)

4 Battalions- (Numbered 1,2,3, and 4!)
246 men each
Each Contain
Command Staff:
1 Commander (Senior Captain)
1 Aide (Lt.)
3 Enlisted Runners/orderlies (Privates)
1 Battalion Sgt

2 Companies Infantry-
Armed with Halberds and great swords.
Command Staff-
1 Captain
2 Lieutenants (1 Senior, 1 Junior)
1 Company Sgt
1 Standard Bearer
1 Drummer

Each Company would be formed of 3 platoons of 31-
1 Ensign
30 Infantry (Organized in squads of 10- 1 Sgt, 1 Corp, 8 privates)

1 platoon of Crossbowmen
1 Ensign
39 Crossbowmen (squads of 13- 1sgt, 1corp, 11 privates)

"Right! Havisham!" Andruus yelled suddenly. "What is our motto and who is the commanding officer of the Crimson Tigers?"

[Gabriel Havisham]

The march had not been trying by any means, and it likely wouldn't be for the vast majority of people unless they were the pampered sort. With the way living was for the masses physical labour was pretty much a fact of life. And when one didn't have a horse or a carriage to cart one around all brightening one walked. Ten miles in a day was probably at least the average of what Gabriel walked. Not to mention the work at the docks he was used to since he was 13 patterns old. It had been 30 eras since he'd started working and this was the first time he'd ever held a job that had taken him away from the docks. He supposed that it was something of a benchmark in his life.

As for Tylov, quite frankly Gabriel liked him. He obviously wasn't selfish and he was easy enough to get along with. Some small part of him though resented his tent-mate's lack of physical prowess. He knew that in the long run it would only serve to make things harder for him, but chances were that this bloke had other qualities. For some reason though Gabriel already felt some kind of alarm within him, warning him not to develop any kind of a real bond with this man. Death was inevitable, especially for the weak. He feared that Tylov wouldn't be strong enough to survive for long in a mercenary group, where business was battle.

The next brightening upon the coming of the wake-up call he noticed how irritable and groggy some of the other recruits seemed to be, so far this was all just the normal routine of life for Gabriel. Early candlemark's and a lot of physical work was how he survived. Still, just like most his legs were a bit uncooperative in the wee candlemarks, just like most others.

The information came much as it did before, Gabriel listened but only half-heartedly. It was by some strange gift of the God's that he was born with a generally superb memory and the ability to listen and internalize things while not truly listening at all. He often marveled at how insanely exceptional he really was. All the same, he was a little bit offended when his name was called out. For some reason he felt like he was being picked on and treated unfairly, which, in truth was an odd sentiment for him as he generally preferred to remain sentimentless, although as of late he had been doing things that were rather out of character for him. He'd been brawling in taverns, in the colosseum, in streets, joining mercenary outfits. He didn't believe in fate, but he had a feeling that things were simply taking their natural course.

Gabriel didn't answer for the briefest second as he drudged up the information, "Respect your superiors, love your comrades, and punish your enemies, Sir!" Again there was another pause, he'd heard the name of the CO twice now, but couldn't recall the rank, "Sir, Longgstom is our commanding officer, Sir!" It was obvious that shouting in this fashion wasn't something that Gabriel was accustomed to. Unless shouting in anger, in which case his voice was uncommonly loud and dominating, Gabriel was quite often soft-spoken but confident.

[Shorty]

b 6 cycle one
becoming a soldier and marching.

"Mercenaries are paid soldiers, yet we are still soldiers!" Andruus yelled at the recruits. "You shall behave as such! You come to attention and you salute your superiors gentlemen! Just like the army, let me explain..." Andruus stepped out in front of the recruits and performed an excellent about face.

"When you stand at attention stand up straight- your feet together, your shoulders back. Fingers together and the tips should be touching the seams of your pants. Follow my example." Andruss began to stalk up and down the line yelling at the recruits to come to a better attention.

"A salute is a gesture of respect between soldiers, and we share this respect. We salute like this." Andruus raised his right arm, bent his elbow and his fingertips touched his temple. "Follow my example"

"Adequate..." Andruss grumbled. "Now, I'm going to teach you what the term 'at ease' means, and then we'll teach you how to march like soldiers. So, when I say at ease you will stand with your legs shoulder width apart and clasp your hands behind your back. Stand upright but don't be as rigid as you are when at attention. Got it you slackers?"

"PLATOON! ATTENTION!" Andruus suddenly screamed, the platoon coming to rapid attention. "AT EASE!" He nodded and continued.

"When I say left face, I expect you to pivot on your right foot, and turn ninety degrees."

"Next, we're going to learn how to march. So, arms at your sides. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, until eternity- but you will all step together! When I say about face you will turn one hundred and eighty degrees to your right, and march the opposite direction. Got it?"

"Platoon! ATTENTION! LEFT FACE! FORWARD MARCH! 1....1.....1.....2.....1" Andruus narrated as the platoon marched forward. "ABOUT FACE!"

"

[Gabriel Havisham]

Training went on and more and more Gabriel looked forward to what it was he was getting himself into. He knew that the Tigers were revered as well as feared to some degree. That ultimately meant respect which served him well enough. He wasn't quite sure how yet as he wasn't necessarily an ambitious man, he knew that ambitious men became targets and made enemies, and that didn't contribute to one's survival. He cared about surviving.

Gabriel for the most part listened and payed attention, mimicking the marching and soldiering demonstrations that Andruus provided. Being a soldier didn't seem like a difficult thing. Granted he was a bit of a smart ass, but he knew when to keep his mouth shut. Very quickly he found out that obedience was paramount here. For the most part he kept his little comments to himself, at times sharing them with Tylov who he grew to like more and more every brightening. He was a good man and despite Gabriel's efforts to prevent any type of bonding between the two of them he invariably grew closer to his tent-mate as the time went on. At the very least he could say the man was his best friend in the camp.
Some part of him loathed the attachment.

Upon Andruus' marching orders Gabriel promptly brought his feet together and stood up straight with his shoulders back, effectively making his chest look stronger and larger than it actually was. He kept his fingers together and his arms straight down, hard against the side of his body.

At the cry of, "Left face!" Gabriel promptly pivoted on his right foot and turned ninety degrees to the left, keeping in the 'attention stance' as best he could. He began to march forward with the rest of the platoon, watching the others as best he could while keeping his head straight forward, trying to stay in step with them, eventually simply resolving to march in beat with the tune that the Battalion Sergeant put forth.

"About face!" and Gabriel pivoted on his left foot, turning 180 degrees to the right. He assumed that if using the right foot to pivot left one should use the left foot to pivot right. It seemed counter logical but in fact worked quite well, surprisingly.

[Shorty]

b 1 cycle 2
Dagger training.

Each brightening continued with long runs and lukewarm chow in the training post. Yet one brightening things got a little more fun as Andruus handed out daggers.

"Grip a dagger with the first two fingers and thumb. The last two fingers are lose and touch the hilt. The Dagger's blade should point into the air, with it's hilt just above the thumb and forefinger. With this grip, a bend of wrist can point blade to opponent, up (for slashing and thrusting) or down (for stabbing, hooking or holding enemy). Understood? Good." "Now, you may ask where should you attack with a dagger? The chest and stomach if the opponent isn't wearing heavy armor. The thigh is a good place as there is a major blood vein there. The throat, below the chin, is a good place even if the enemy has a armor. The shoulder could be a good place as it could make the opponent use his weapons less officiously. Also remember that when you are fighting with a Dagger, you advised to take any target presented to you. This is weapon of last resort and close in fighting, remember that."

"You will learn now learn the two stances- forward and back. Forward stance - Feet should be shoulder length apart, left foot slightly ahead of the other, lean forward, Dagger blade in right hand and up and forward, left hand slight behind other hand with palm out as if prepared to push. Back stance - The body faced to the left. Both of the feet are in line with one another. The left leg was a little bent at the knee and on the side. The upper body should be as you almost look over your right shoulder." Andruus demonstrated and watched the other recruits follow along.

"The basic attack is the stab. First thrust the Dagger into the opponent. Pull the hilt of the Dagger into your chest, so that your fingers will be facing up. Then lashed out with the hips moving slightly. The finishing position of the Dagger should be 90 degrees away from the floor. Then twist it to open a wound and then recover your Dagger. Ready? STAB! TWIST! RECOVER!" Andruus shouted as he directed the recruits to lunge again and again. "STAB! TWIST! RECOVER!"

[Gabriel Havisham]

The equipment had been issued, the theoretical knowledge imparted, the soldiery instilled, and now, at last he felt, they would teach them all how to fight, how to kill. Now is when they were being molded into mean, clean, fighting machines. He wasn't sure what a machine was, but he had heard the term before and it felt oh so appropriate now as he savoured the feel of the dagger in his hand. It wasn't anything new really, he'd felt a dagger before, used it. Not like how the instructor was commanding though, he'd more just gripped the blade and stabbed, hoping to kill something. He was being molded into a warrior and he knew it, could feel it.

Gabriel gripped as instructed, his thumb and first two fingers holding onto the handle, with his last two fingers loosely helping to control it. As the man talked about the various ways to hold a dagger and how one could attack holding it that way Gabriel practiced the position, trying to see how the attack would work. He put to memory the places where he could strike with his blade. Without armour, stomach and chest. Thigh, throat, below the chin, possibly the shoulder. He remembered the instruction that the dagger was meant to be used as a last resort in close quarters, to strike anywhere that a target presented itself.

As Andruus narrated Gabriel tried out the stances, starting with the forward stance. He looked down at his feet as he edged them out until he judged them to be shoulder width apart. He slid his left foot forward slightly and then leaned forward. Being that he was right handed his dagger was already in that hand. He gripped the blade as instructed and pointed it up and moved the weapons arm forward, with his left hand back with a flat palm as though he were going to shove someone. He liked this stance, it felt comfortable to him.

Next he moved into the back stance. This one was a bit more complicated it seemed. He positioned his body so that it faced to the left, just as Andruus had instructed. He moved his feet to be aligned and bent his left knee. At first he couldn't quite figure it out but after observing the Tylov for a moment he saw how it was meant to be done and put himself in that position. This also seemed a strong stance, one that he was also comfortable with. It seemed more imposing to him for some reason.

For a bit Gabriel quickly practiced the thrust all by itself, not incorporating the attack into a stance, just to get the feel of it. He put the dagger hilt to his chest, with the blade facing up and thrust out, quickly he discerned that this was for added power in the attack. He enjoyed the idea of twisting the dagger, it was sadistic but he liked it. Not because he was necessarily evil himself but it just said to him, 'Now scream you son of a dog, bleed for every trying to challenge me'. It made him feel powerful

He performed the thrust, twist, and recovery in time with Andruus' commands. He would switch up his stance often to get accustomed to the attack in both positions. Quickly he learned that twisting out so that his palm faced up was much better than twisting in. When he twisted in he would either get a pain in his elbow, or feel as though he was forcing his arm to twist in an unnatural way and risked serious damage.

[Shorty]

B4 cycle 2
Shortsword

After a hellish 10 mile run, Andruus gather the recruits around him.

"Tigers! On me!" He shouted and led them to the makeshift armory. A couple trainers started passing out wooden training shortswords to the recruits. "Gentlemen, the sword is a deadly weapon, made to thrust and slash. This a a mockup of a shortsword- we value it's speed and agility over the power of a longsword. We have Halberds for power, this is for your close in fighting. Now everyone- into ranks on the double!" Andruus shouted and grabbed a shortsword himself, however his was real.

"The top half of the sword is weakest in the bing, yet stronger in the cut. When you block, block with the lower half of the blade.

"The true edge is the leading edge of the blade, which lines up with your second knuckles. The false edge is the trailing edge, which lines up with the web of your thumb

"The handle," Andruss fingered the part people gripped of the sword. "With the crossguard above it," Sgt. Andruus pointed to the piece of metal that made the sword look like a cross. "On the bottom is the pommel and counterweight at the end of the tang. The handle is formed from wood core sheathing the tang, often wrapped with wire, sharkskin, or leather for better grip. With the crossguard and pommel, it forms the hilt. Got it?"

"Havisham!" Andruus barked. "Tell me the parts of a shortsword!"

[Gabriel Havisham]

One would think that as time wore on, with day after day of repetitive running drills and excercises a person would get used to it all, become more resilient, more endurent - and Gabriel had no doubt that would be the end result - but for his legs just ached more and more. There was no time for them to heal, no time to recuperate. They simply ached, and he had to fight through that pain. His entire body had to fight through. Though he was physically diminished his will was still as strong and indominable as ever, and it was all that forced him to push forward. He was running off of sheer pride.

A new weapon to be learned it seemd, he yearned for it, not because it trained him to kill, but because it was easier than the physical excercise. They were making a soldier out of him, he knew. Gabriel felt especially bad for Tylov who wasn't athletic to begin with. The whole ordeal had to be aternia itself for that man.

"Cut high, block low, cut high, block low, cut high, block low..." Gabriel whispered to himself, as he tapped the corresponding part of the wooden blade against his sore thigh. He readjusted his grip so that what was called the leading edge lined up with his second line of knuckles and the trailing edge with the web of his thumb. He tried the grip out and went back to his mantra. This could work for him.

Upon being singled out Gabriel kind of grunted and then snapped straight to attention with his feet together, shoulders back, head up, arms in, and fingers together and touching his thighs - that is as best he could while still holding a practice sword in his right hand. "Sir! True edge, false edge, handle, crossguard, pommel, counterweight, tang...err...hilt! Sir!" He knew that he'd pay for messing up a little bit later, if not immediately. Slowly but surely they beat the smartass out of him, at least, in front of his superiors they had.

[Shorty]

"Errr? ERR!!??" Andruus got into Gabriel's face. "Is the Private not sure? Be sure! Be decisive! That is the way of the soldier! If on the battlefield you hesitate you are dead, your buddy is dead, and the orcs have already burnt down your house! You want that? In battle gentlemen and ladies..." Andruus stepped back, making a point out of his outburst. "A common mistake is to 'fight in the box'. This means that all you do is stand around an area, sword out, looking for the enemy to attack you. This is not the way things are done Privates! You will not be a bunch of cowards running in place protecting a two feet square piece of dirt that no one cares about! Single out one enemy and kill him, proceed to the next one. Concentrate on destroying your target, one at a time. Got it? Let's continue..." Andruus drew his sword and got into a basic stance.

"Right foot forward, and your left foot back and shoulder length apart. Find a comfortable balance between the two feet. Leaning to the rear foot will offer you better defense and better thrusts and jabs. Leaning to the front foot gives you more power and presents better opportunity for slashing. Everyone find their center of balance Privates!" Andruus waited for the recruits to follow his directions before continuing on.

"Attacks consist of slashes," Andruus brought his blade across his body from right shoulder to his left leg. "and thrusts!" Andruus thrusted the sword in front of him. "Use these in combination for attacks. I will now decribe one such combo- 'three slashes and a thrust..."

"First slash is from top left to bottom right. Second slash is from middle left to middle right. Last slash is from center top to center bottom. The thrust is a simple thrust with the leg shifting forward, the arms pulled slightly back and using the movement of the body to thrust instead of just using the hands only. You can also reverse the directions if you desire. Havisham! Please demonstrate the threes slashes and a thrust!" Once Gabriel finished, Andruus continued.

"There are three types of blocks: block up, block middle and block down." Andruus followed along to his narration. First held the blade true edge out eye level, then he dropped it to his chest, then his waist. "Gentlemen, follow my commands. I say thrust- you thrust. I say slash- you slash. Block up- block up. Got it? Ready?

"Slash, slash, slash- thrust! Block up! Block middle! Thrust, slash...." Andruus continued to drill everybody for a candlemarks...until it got quite dark.

[Gabriel Havisham]

As it turned out the scolding was not as physically punishing as Gabriel had feared, instead the sergeant used it as an opportunity to convery a concept, a lesson in survival. Attack, don't wait, decide, don't hesitate. That was always what the greatest generals always did, they took action where others would wait out of fear, they fought when others would defend. He realized that he wasn't just being trained how to swing a sword, he was being trained how to kill, how to prey on an enemy. The line, 'Single out on enemy and kill him, proceed to the next one' stuck into the recruits memory.

Quickly following Andruus' instructions Gabriel put his right foot in the front and his left foot back, getting his feet shoulder length apart. He silently observed that shoulder length feet placements seemed to be a common thread in martial training. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, testing out his instructors claims and finding out that they seemed to be rather true and that ultimately he prefered to place his weight on his forward foot. He felt more comfortable in an attack mode than defending.

As Andruus dictated to the group Gabriel mimicked, slashing from top left to bottom right, middle left to middle right, and center top to center bottom before finishing it off with a mighty thrust, shifting his leg forward and bringing his sword arm back a bit before lunging forward and letting the power of it come from his momentum. He found however, that the transition from the first slash to the second was rather awkward for him so when asked to demonstrate he decided to use the leeway that the sergeant had provided.

Gabriel assumed position and leaned forward on his right foot to give more power to his slashes. He tested his grip on his sword for a moment and then brought his sword arm up and slashed down from top left to bottom right and from there brought his arm up and slashed across, with his wrist turned up, from middle right to middle left before bringing the sword up in the air and heavily chopping downward from center top to center bottom, using his left hand forearm as something of a brace to help chop through whatever his sword would hit. Finally he drew his sword back just above his waist and leaned his weight back on his left foot before twisting his body and pushing forward, thrusting out with his sword toward his imaginary opponents abdomen.

The mercenary reassumed formation once done the demonstration and felt out the blocks, for some reason subconciously placing his left wrist against his right as though to help brace the hand upon impact, much like bracing a door against a ram.

Through the first narration Gabriel used one of his variations of Sergeant Andruus' combination, only slashing from top right to bottom left and then from middle left to middle right, he felt as though this helped him build momentum somehow. From there he blocked up - true edge facing out at eye level - then blocked in the middle - true edge facing out at chest level - all the while maintaining his stance to the best of his ability. After blocking he quickly thrust forward and then slashed from top right to bottom left, as though he had gutted an enemy and then cast them aside with one mighty stroke, sending them out of his way.

Were it not for the fact that as the drills went on he used his imagination to picture himself in pitched battle combating worthy, if not superior, foes his body likely would not have been able to keep up with it all. Time slipped by and his arms began to ache, not used to the motion, and then the muscles on his ribs and in his abdomen began to hurt and shortly thereafter so did his pectorals. His entire upper body moaned and the acid in his legs felt as though it were melting his metaphorical pillars away.

[Shorty]

b1 cycle 3
Halberd Training

Finally the recruits were worthy enough to attempt to weild the storied halberds for which the they were famous. Andruus greeted them early one brightening bearing a intimidating weapon- a broad, short axe blade on a 6 foot pole with a spear point at the top and a back spike on the bottom. On the back side of the axe blade was a hook. Andruus explained the halberd.

"When we march into battle, ladies, we bear these! Six feet long, perfect for defense against calvary, unstoppable in the hands of the Crimson Tigers!" Andruus smiled. Let us learn the weapon.

"It's simple in design- six foot pole with an small ax mounted on the end, a spike off the top to stab stuff, and a hook to pull people off of horses, catch their reins. Gentlemen, how well you hook something shows a person's skill.... At this will be awkward, so everyone give each other 10 feet of clearance on the field, move!" Andruus waited for the recruits to move. "Alright, pass out the training polearms..." He instructed the trainers as they passed out wooden halberds.

"Basic stance is the same as the shortsword, hold firmly with both hand spaced one foot apart on the pole....knuckle forward, arms relaxed...good. First attack we'll learn is the strike! Alright, poles out, horizontal with the ground, spike on the top leading. This attack is easy- you're looking to puncture something with it? Alright? Push out with both arms! Ready....Strike!" Andruus yelled.

[Gabriel Havisham]

The weapon was absolutely incredible, it was taller than he was, and most men for that matter, and it's design made it look ferocious. He was sure that it had to be some aeternian weapon invented by the fabled Cryaxians or at the very least forged by the bestial Orcish hordes. He couldn't imagine the sheer cruelty of the man who thought up this device. It was fearsome to be sure.

Setting up with the ten feet clearance as ordered Gabriel tenderly held the weapon, treating it with complete and utter respect. He was in awe of the weapon, almost to the point of worship.

Gabriel took up the previously learned position; his right foot forward and his left foot back, with a shoulders width distance between them. He held to pole on his left side with his right hand leading. He adjusted the spacing of his hands until it looked to him that they were roughly one foot apart from each other. He felt deadly.

He put his halberd out and leveled it with the ground, leaning forward slightly. He braced his legs, preparing for a might thrust. He put his weight on his back foot and then quickly shifted it forward onto his right foot as he pushed forward with both arms, stabbing at an imaginary opponent.

[Shorty]

"Alright!" Andruus walked up and down the line. "Strike! Strike! Strike!" He made the recruits strain and work hard, he wouldn't be satisfied before their arms jellified. Strength was needed to wield one effectively, and Andruus intended that they would have that strength. "Do it again Havisham!" Andruus screamed at Gabriel from down the line.

Andruus moved on.

"Next attack is the swing. In standard grip- right hand's up on the staff- left hand's down. To swing pull your Halberd right, '''' and swing across your body..." Andruus demonstrated, creating a WHOOSH! with his weapon. "Everyone SWING! SWING! STRIKE! SWING!"