[The Forge, Darkblade Fortress] Imperial Legionaire Training

[Gilles de Craon]

TimestampLate in the Month of Kalendryas,
in the Season of Winter, Era I of the Celestine Mandate,
Era XV Post Fractum.

Training: Basic Imperial Legionaire Training

Originally Posted by The Forge

The Training Grounds for Taralon’s Militia was positioned in the outer courtyard of the Darkblade Fortress. It lay amid the pair of vast walls that constituted the barrier between the Keep and the rest of Taralon. It was here between the two towering fortifications of golden stone, that soldiers of all levels were trained in the arts of combat. It was not much more than a large patch of grass, with small wooden posts indicating its boundaries; dividing it into smaller, individual training fields for different weapon classes. The grass itself, unlike that close to the gravel path, was worn by trampling and bustling feet, patches of dirt scattered across the green turf.

The area had never officially been appointed to serve as a ground for training; but soon after the construction of the Fortress had been completed it became the place where the men of the Guard would practise. Finally it designated as a place of training when recruits needed a place to be taught. It was nicknamed "The Forge" after its purpose of transforming soft new recruits into hardened soldiers.

Dotting the area, shinning in sapphire and gold, members of the militia worked at their daily routines of sword, pike and bow. Muscles rippled with the thrust and clang of swords; the twang of bows; sweat dripping from their faces and bodies. Around one small training area a large crowd had gathered to cheer on two men whose naked chests glimmered in the brightening’s sun. They were in an intense fight; there bodies moving and rippling as their bare feet trampled the grass. This was not an unusual scene, men and women competing against each other to not only show off skill, but to hone them as well.

His first mission was easily completed, for he reported to the Armoury, and was issued his equipment. He retrieved the equipment, a pack full of items he had yet to fully explore. Then he was off to the barracks where he found his bunk along with several other fresh recruits. They were the typical citizen, with rough manners and were just looking to make a few crowns and to get out of the slums. Gilles recognized that he held a loftier goal. To rid the provience and the Empire of the scum that was orc, to purify the failing Empire.

The final part of his first mission was to begin his training. To learn the longsword, the spear, and the pilum as if they were extensions of his own physical self. The armoury had provided him his equipment which was stored in his lockers by his cot. He gathered the equipment he needed for his training, not sure what would be the first on the training schedual. Then as the second sun crested the horizon he found himself on the training fields. It was The Forge where young men were turned into weapons of the Empire, Gilles followed the jeers looking for someone who seemed to be in charge.

A few moment of scanning through the crowd of sweaty men he found the dorin whom inducted him the previous brightening. It was Shield Daekin Dogg, the jet black dorin with intense red eyes. He was a tough as nails type person, one serious about his role and Gilles respected that. For one brightening he hoped to lead his own group of legionaires into a bloody battle.

'Serale, Legionaire de Craon reporting for training.' This time his salute wsa more crisp having spent the past darkening practicing.

'Then fall in... All you stinking apes fall in. We have work to do this brightening, and you sorry saps are not going to slow me down.' He commanded, his voice a growl over the crowd. Gilles found his way to the front of the crowd and mimicked the formation positioning the otehrs had already known.

The group all had real weapons, no sign of training weapons could be seen. Dogg liked his training to be true, for you to learn it the right way the first time. No transitioning from play blades to true weapons. 'Now follow me, mimick my position and moves. You bunch of weak soft skins, you have to be toughened up if you want to be part of the Ninth!'

Next Dogg held the longsword aloft one handed in his hand, his left to his side, partially for balance perhaps, although mainly because having an extra hand was useful in a fight, but that wasn’t the basic knowledge that was being covered.

The sword itself though was held in the centre of the hilt with one hand, blade tilted so it was at a roughly 45 degree angle from a straight line going out from the body horizontally, indistinct therefore, it could go anywhere easily and didn’t offer any openings.

Gilles lifted his balde, which seemed heavy in his hand as he had never weilded a weapon. It would take time for his muscles to adjust. He looked at his feet to get the proper positioning, and held the sword out at a 45 degree angle. The instructor had began to move through the group of recruits. Gilles felt the sting of his blade as he smacked his calf with the side of his blade, for which Gilles quickly moved his foot to the correct postition. He looked up at the dorin but he had already moved on.

[Gilles de Craon]

'You lousy lots. Be sure to have feet shoulder width apart, legs spread, feet pointed forward, be sure to keep the weight up on the balls of your feet. You want to gasp the sword in your primary hand, just behind the hilt. Keep your fingers tightened abit, your palm loose for best control.

Everyone step back, and take four steps away from the person in front of you. We don't want you idiots to have any accidents on my watch.' The gruff Dogg turned his gaze over the recruits, Gilles once again focusing on the Instructor's positioning and his words.

'Knees slightly bent, practice lifting your blade up, into a Forward Position... Still at a 45 degree angle.' He barked once agian getting into the Basic Stance.

'When you step forward, always step forward with your primary foot, and have it slightly forward to begin with.' He shouted, walking once mroe through the small group of recruits. They were mostly locals, not the standard Legionnaire that joined in Prime and was sent to the provinces.

'I am used to training soldiers that have some inkling of knowledge in warfare. You backwoods yokels do not, so be fore we continue I want to go through the parts of this weapon.'

Shield Daekin Dogg lifted his sword, gripping it by the hilt, blade down, in the 'presented' position, expecting the troops to do the same thing.

'Now.. Parts of a longsword. First and foremost we have the hilt. The hilt is where you hold the weapon, and contains buried within it the length of the blade called the tang. The pommel... the nob at the end, is perfect for driving into your enemies skull, kidneys, anywhere vulnerable for a blunt attack. The cross-piece protects your hand from sliding onto the blade. And the blade itself is designed for cutting, chopping, and blocking. The strongest part of the blade is near the hilt, while the sharpest most piercing part of the blade is near the point. Always parry near the hilt, and stab or slice near the tip. Any questions?'

He looked at the group with his sinister red eyes, daring them to reply incorrectly. This was war and the discipline of the Legionnaires was what the people of the Empire were depending on to stop this Orcish Horde.

Gilles shouted out 'No Sir...', just as a few others did. A split second after he spoke there was a snout snarling inches from his face.

'That is "SIR, NO QUESTIONS, SIR", this is your only warning Legionnaire. No down and give me 20, ALL OF YOU DOWN!!

When one screws up, you all screw up. Got that?!' The dorin shouted.

The group shouted, 'Sir, yes Sir,' before falling to the ground. Shouting out the number of the push up they were doing. The Shield Daekin Dogg turned to walk to the front of the group a faint smile on his face, Perhaps there is hope for them and the Ninth afterall.

[Gilles de Craon]

After the recruits stood, the dark furred dorin was on them once more. He gave them not chance to 'rest', just as an enemy would be on them without a seconds hesitation. Even though it was winter, a bead of sweat glistened across Gilles forehead. This was mroe than weapons training, it was test of physical strength and endurance.

'We will begin now with defensive maneuvers. With the longsword the trick to this is mostly in your elbow and shoulder.

Hold the sword out, slightly below the level of your waist. If a blow comes from above, move the sword to your left to knock it away from the plane of your body. If it comes from either side, use the same motion to knock it either up or down. Dont be stupid so remember--you don't need to stop your opponent's blow. Just need to deflect it so it doesn't hit you, which requires less energy. In addition, if your enemy's blow is blocked, he may still be in position. If, however, you deflect the blow, the force of his follow-through may carry him out of position. Then you can deliver a well-timed hit.'

Shield Daekin Dogg moved into his ready stance, standy right before Gilles.
'Time to practice, Block me.' There was a malicious glint in his dark eyes as he launched into attack. His Imperial Longsword was raised over his head, arching down towards the raven haired youths head.

Reacting, the young trainee swung his sword around. The circular motion of the movement barely knocked his teacher's blade. It was enough to save his scalp, but knicked his shoulder.

'Decent job, but you should remember your foot work. If you would have made a slight sidestep, you would have not been touched. Overall... decent...' Then he went around the squad. Each recruit was attacked some were able to deflect the blows, with a side step. Others bruised up as bad or worse than Gilles. Over and over the dorin went through the recruits, like some sort of hazing. After a candlemark the instructor seemed to be satisfied with thier progress.

'Run 10 laps, then you can retire for the evening. Be back hear before mid-day.' With that he turned and left, leaving the recruits to run as he ordered. He did not watch them for they were to be Legionnaires and trust worth to complete thier orders. Plus he had many informants that would give him the names of the next brightenings victems.

[Gilles de Craon]

The darkening fell and with it so did Gilles. It was one of the deepest slumbers he had ever had. The excitement of his first day of training, combined with the demanding exercises that he was put through equaled a wore out body. He had given his all and would continue to do so, for it would only get tougher. And the filthy greenskins would never let up until the Empire battered them into thier place. They would soon learn that no where on Telath would they be safe if it was the Empire's wish to destroy them.

With bugle call Gilles found it hard to move. His muscles had grown heavy and stiff through his otherwise refreshing sleep. Fighting the his own body with the will power that would forge him into a great Legionnaire, he got his training gear on and made his way to the training grounds. Moving his body slowly to work out the stiffness, and get his blood moving. The rufle of his green cloak marked him as a recruit, and soon the rest of his training group found thier way to the field as well.

'Runts... Attention!' The gruff voice of Shield Dogg caused them all to jump. None had seen him arrive, but all knew to now be on thier perfect behavior.

'We will now go over some easier tasks. I can tell that you need a little more time to get ready for a more demanding day. I am not the meanest dog in the pack,' He said with a glint of mischief in his eyes. For there was rarely a recruit that did not damn his name on more than one occasion.

'Start with Longsword description.

Swords up, presented!' Shield Dogg lifted his sword, gripping it by the hilt, blade down, in the 'presented' position, expecting the troops to do the same thing.

'Now.. Parts of a longsword. First and foremost we have the hilt. The hilt is where you hold the weapon, and contains buried within it the length of the blade called the tang. The pommel... the nob at the end, is perfect for driving into your enemies skull, kidneys, anywhere vulnerable for a blunt attack. The cross-piece protects your hand from sliding onto the blade. And the blade itself is designed for cutting, chopping, and blocking. The strongest part of the blade is near the hilt, while the sharpest most piercing part of the blade is near the point. Always parry near the hilt, and stab or slice near the tip. Any questions?' He paused, and did not expect any because he gave them a full description. It would signal someone was not paying attention if they called out.

That was a yes or no question recruits,' He called out starting to become annoyed. He expected a 'Yes Sir', or 'No Sir', and the squad did not disappoint him. He then lead them to a row of benches, where he sat and signaled for the recruits to take a seat on the ground.

He pulled out his whetstone, oil cloth, and a leather strip from his kit, and barked for those inside to furnish each recruit with one. They'd be adding these essential items to their arsenal.

Next you will be learning about sword sharpening and care.' Pausing once more for the last of the reruits to get thier kits and open them.

'First off, your blades always need to be cleaned after each use. You do this by wiping them clean with an oil cloth. If the weapon becomes damaged by dulling, knicking, chipping, etc... you will have to do the repairs yourself.' As he spoke he went through the motions, it could be seen that he treated his weapon with much care and strangely respect.

'Take your blade across your lap, then grasp whetstone firmly in one hand. Stroke the blade across its length from the center of the blade to the point, holding the whetstone parallel to the length of the blade. Apply more pressure towards the point than you do towards the middle of the blade. Repeat this process all the way down the length, starting from the hilt to the tip. Then, once you've done that, wipe with an oil cloth, and then rub with the leather. The leather will take off any tiny particles of metal left over.'Shield Dogg explained. Then, he had them all sit down with their various equipment, and begin working at keeping their blades sharp.

'Once your done, I will inspect your work and release you to spar. Those done first pair up in the order you finish.'

Gilles mimicked his trainer with the respect that he showed his weapon. For it would serve to destroy the threat that was the Horde, and protect his life from their vile weapons. He mimicked the motion of moving the oiled rag up the blade, careful not to nick his hand on the blade. He found a spot on the one side of the blade that would need to be smoothed out, and plus the edge was dull. The weapon smiths usually left the trainees blades slightly dull for thier protection. The squad sat in silence as they performed the task at hand. Gilles was among the first few to signal to the trainner that he was complete.

Shield Dogg took his blade and with a dissaproving gaze looke at the edge and the keeness of the blades edge. He had found the other recruits work wanting and sat them back down to continue to work. With a sour look on his canine face he turned to face the group.

'This whelp got it right, so I expect you all to be done momentarily, and have a perfect edge better than this one.' The trainer then signaled for Gilles to move to the training posts to practice his slashes and thrusts, while the rest finished with thier task.

[Gilles de Craon]

So far the young man had learned and practiced Longsword use and care. With the few brightenings of training he had also began to train his body for the Endurance he would need to be an Imperial Legionnaire. There was still much more to learn and practice before he would be accepted as a full recruit. That was what drove the nobleman from Jaedexia, the honor of serving his Empire.

It was early the following brightening. He and the other recruits were made to spar over and over till they were unable to move their arms. Then the sadist that was their instructor had them run through the city in formation, while carrying heavy packs. It was not the glory that the human had expected to shine under, but he understood the need to be torn down to be built back up as an Imperial Legionnaire. He did not have to like it even though it would hopefully come to save his life and that of innocents in the future.

'Fall in once more you sorry bald face recruits.' Shield Dogg once more barked at them. He would be a figure they always remembered, without an ounce of fondness.

'This brightening we learn of the Pilum' He held up his weapon that had seen much use in its service to the Empire.

'The pilum is a weapon issued and used in the heavy infantry for many an era. It is usually about six feet long, with a heavy wooden haft, and a long narrow spearhead that ends in a barb.

The pilum is thrown towards the enemies shields, and when they strike, the narrow, sharp barb penetrates, and because the iron is soft, and the wooden haft is heavy, the pilum bends at the neck, making it impossible to remove. So once you let it go be sure it hits for it will not be serviceable without some work.' He spoke, pointing out the parts of the weapon as he went over them.

'The extra weight distracts your opponents. Causing them carry a heavier awkward weight, or else they discard it and fall into battle without a shield. This tactic is basic for the Legionnaire heavy infantry. For right after the heavy infantry throws the pilum, they follow immediately with an attack, thereby inflicting many casualties upon the enemy.' Shield Dogg then led the squad of recruits towards an area that was set up to practice throws.

They found themselves in an open field facing the wall of the Fortress that was a several score of yards away. Quite a distance to throw the javelins, or these pilum that Dogg called them. On the was were stacks of hay bales, with old battered shields attached to them. The perfect target for them to practice on.

'Do not confuse these with spears, if you do you will find your self DEAD. They are meant to be thrown, and will work of used as a spear. First grab hold of the pilum in the middle, move your hand along the shaft till you find the counterbalance point. It is there you will hold it.' He paused to allow the recruits to retrieve a practice javelin and test the areas as he had instructed.

'Then you lift it over head, using your shield arm to counterbalance yourself. Use your free fingers from your shield arm and point at your target. You are taking aim using your dominant eye, it will take some practice but you will get used to it. A quick trick is to point at the shields in the distance, then close each eye. The one that is still one target is your dominant eye.' The old Dorin passed on a little information that was not usually covered. Perhaps that is why more of the Shield's students still walked Telath.

He stood and lightly bounced the shaft in his hand with his thick furry dorin fingers pointing towards the row of shields. He took one, then two step then let fly the pilum. The flexible shaft seemed to wobble in flight yet in less than a second it his it's target and pierced into the wooden shield. The shield stayed in place, but the weak metal of the tip allowed the shaft to bend down while the tip was firmly stuck.

'There... a perfect throw. By the end of your training everyone of you weak worms will be hitting those targets. Lets move forward several yards till you get used to the throws.' He ordered.

For the next few candlemarks the recruits went through the process of throwing, retrieving, then reshaping the heads. As a group their throws improved, Gilles started by not hitting any of his targets. Shamed by the Senior Shield he slowly started to hit his targets. One by one his throws improved, and by the time they were released from training he felt he was a strong middle performer. It was not where he wised to be, and this further fanned the flames of his desire to become the best Legionnaire he could.