[Colbalt Mountains] Weapons of War (Closed)

[Abashai]

Timestamp: 1st Day of Spring, 510 AV Location: Cobalt Mountains, outside Nya and Shai's Home Cave Purpose: weapons training Status: Closed Abashai removed his outer coat, the damp night chill having given way to a brisk yet sun-warmed morning. The forest outside the couple's lair had begin to exhibit hints of green. The splash of color that heralded the first day of Spring also brought a sense of urgency to Nya and Abashai's need to begin their journey. They had honored Matilda's wish to postpone their departure for the Tallshade Keep until Spring. But with the arrival of the new season, there was nothing to prevent them from leaving. The packing was nearly complete, the floor of the cave strewn with organized piles, everything the bondmates thought they would need for indefinite travel. Now Abashai and Nya saw to their respective preparations. The forest cat had prowled off, after a firm kiss and embrace. As their imenent departure approached, the couple's affections had become less playful, their touching taking on purpose, as if to strengthen their bond and encourage each other. For his part, Abashai had decided to take several weapons on their journey. His khopesh and bow were his forte, his weapons of choice. But he may not always have a choice. Today he was going to get familiar with some of the weapons they had taken from the encounter at the dark shrine. First, he removed the sheathed longsword from the collection of weapons leaning against a large log. Abashai drew the enchanted sword from it's scabbard. Immediately, he felt the cold eminating from the mystical blade. A whispy vapor trailed the weapon as the Benshira swung it back and forth to get a feel for it's weight and balance. Even with its heavy blade, The longsword possessed a better balance than his khopesh, the long handle and heavy pommel compensating some for the weight of the blade. As he swung it before him in a figure eight, Abashai found he could recover much quicker from each move. The black leather grip was long enough for him to hold with both hands, and he worked some wide arcs holding it two-handed, creating a swirl of mist in the moist air. Shai had set up his weapon practice area with a thin, stripped sapling firmly stuck in each corner of a square. He stepped into the center of the square. Hefting the longsword in his hand, the Benshira sucked in a deep breath and, in a burst of motion, lifted the sword and swung it in a wide arc at the sapling in one corner. The blade wedged into the wood, requiring Abashai to use both hands to yank it free. Apparently, the straight blade works a bit different than the almost axe-like blade of the khopesh. Perhaps a greater drawing motion needed to be employed, he mused. He staged himself again and took another swing, pulling the blade across the same sapling as it bit into the wood. The icy steel split the pole in half. Next, Abashai gripped the weapon with both hands and raised it up, bringing it down in a diagonal slash against the second sapling, using the same drawing technique. The longsword cut cleanly through the target slantways. Finally, Shai turned to face the last two poles. With a grunt, he swept the blade up and attempted to hit both targets in a figure eight manuveur. The attempt failed, simply stripping some bark from each. Huffing, the swordsman shook out his shoulders and craned his next to the side until it popped. After several more attempts, Abashai was able to cleave both posts. He spent the next bell repeating his routine until he had depleted his pile of saplings.

[Abashai]

Using the longsword to slash was not a stretch for Abashai, having employed the technique with his khopesh all his life. Well, with the heavy arcane sword, it was more like hacking. But the icy straight-edged sword, unlike the sickle-shaped khopesh, offered a deadly thrusting strike as well. Ideally, a freshly killed animal would allow him to get the feel of how the weapon would pierce flesh, But Nya would never condone hunting and killing an animal simply to hack it up. So the previous day, Abashai had secured two goat carcasses from a butcher in Syliras and stored them overnight in the cool side cave of the bondmates' lair. He had also purchased a fine roast for his mate. Now, returning to the cave and retrieving the carcasses, Abashai strung one up by the hocks from a limb in the training area. Abashai gripped the black leather handle of the enchanted sword in both hands, the vapor rising from its frosty blade thickening as the air warmed. With a lunge, he drove the sword into the carcass, the sharp point piercing the flesh between two ribs, slipping through the body and plunging out the other side. The Benshira grinned, the thrusting attack was a very satisfying assault. Withdrawing the blade from the target, He stepped back and switched to hold the sword in his right hand. Raeadying his stance, Abashai made several stabs at the carcass, noting what happened when the blade glance off of bones, and how vital organs could be targeted. Abashai continued, shiftng between one and two-handed attacks, thrusting and stabbing at the body until the flesh hung from the bones in shreds. With a final flourish, the warrior raised the longsword with two hands high over his right shouder, bringing it down in a diagonal arc to through the goat carcass, cleaving it in two. The Benshira paused to catch his breath, shaking out his dark mane. Beads of sweat ran from his forehead down his cheeks. He returned the magic sword to its scabbard and leaned against the large log. Abashai pulled his tunic off over his head, allowing the cool air to evaporate the perspiration gathered on his chest and across his powerful shoulders. He glanced at the weapons lined up against the fallen tree. Next would be the one that made even the desert warrior a bit unnerved.

[Abashai]

Yanking free the waterskin slung over a nearby limb, Abashai upended the container over his mouth, allowing the cool liquid to splash between his lips, over his face and down his bare torso. Tossing it aside, the Benshira cut down the remains of his sword target with his boot dagger and hung up the second goat carcass. This time he also secured it from the bottom with a rope to a log to prevent it from swinging. Then he strode over the weapons and wrapped his hands around the haft of the dark metal mace. Once the possession of a follower of Rhysol, Stitch had said the weapon possessed a disturbing and violent history. Even as Abashai lifted the bludgeoning weapon in his hands, he could almost feel the death clinging to it. The glass shards embedded in the spherical iron head were clouded with dirt and dust. It was a wicked weapon for sure, and one with which Abashai had little experience. Swinging the weapon loosely, Abashai wokred on getting accustomed to its weight and balance, the former aspect great, the latter almost non-existent. But he was used to unbalanced weapons. He raised the weapon, practiced striking at the air, learning how to control the weapon and recover from its mighty swing. The heavy mace tugged at the muscles of his back and shoulders, challenging the strength of his arms and upper body. Pausing a moment to face up against the hanging carcass, The Benshira spread his feet into a stable stance, grasped the haft of the dark mace in both hands, raised it over his shoulder and with a grunt swung it at the goat. Abashai threw his body into the attack, and when the iron weapon slammed into the target body, it bucked wildly against its restraints. Bones cracked and the thick, sharp shards of glass tore at the meat, snapping off as the weapon's head was dragged across the pink flesh. Recovering from the blow, Abashai glanced down at the mace's head. Where pieces of glass had broken off, new jagged glass was already emerging magically from the black metal. Stitch had told him the glass would regenerate, but to see the phenomenon was admittedly a bit creepy. The sensation of smashing flesh and bone with the brutal weapon was, Abashai had to admit as well, very satisfying. He regained his battle stance, raising the weapon in his right hand, he struck again, smashing it against the goat's flesh, repeating until the surface of the meat was darkened. Watching in amazement as the clean, razor-sharp glass shards regrew after each strike. Again, switching from two to one -handed and back, Abashai worked on finding how the hammering mace reacted when it struck bone and how to best utilize the gruesome, tearing glass for maximum damage. The carcass was a smashed, hacked mess when Abashai finally took a break. The exercise had left a sheen of sweat on his body, his arms and shoulders ached, their cut definitions enhanced with the strain of use. Laying the mace against the log, Abashai trudged up to the cave, anxious to take a break and splash some cool pool water across his gritty skin.

[Abashai]

Once he had caught his breath and had drunk his fill from the pool cave, Abashai jogged back out to the training area. He took a moment to stretch his shoulders, extending his arms together in front of him, then behind, pulling on the muscles of his upper body. After a quick stretch of the neck, the Benshira finally took the plain khopesh from its place among the weapons leaning against the fallen tree. The weapon was pleasantly familiar in his hands after handling the longsword and mace. He swung it loosely in a figure eight, turning in a slow circle as the blade whirled before him. Its heavy weight and awkward balance actually kept the tip of the weapon propelled through the large arcing movements. Abashai found the simple exercise very relaxing, and he could almost become trance-like as he worked the blade in his hands. Finally, he slowed the motion until he rested the khopesh's squarish tip against the worn ground. Widening his stance into a battle posture, Abashai raised the weapon and made a series of precision strikes that started at the bottom of the dangling shreds of the goat carcass. Each blow clipped off another hunk of torn bone and flesh, until the final hack severed the rope that suspended the target. Shaking out his arms, The swordsman dropped them to his side, Khopesh lowered. He closed his eyes, taking a chime to listen to the birds calling, the rustle of old fallen leaves as small creatures traversed the forest floor. He lostened to a soft breeze move through the limbs overhead and felt it wrap around him. A slight grin came as he wondered if his Stormwarden bondmate had sent the zephyr to check in on him. He inhaled the moist scent of living things that permeated the woods, drinking in its rich aroma. Breath even and deep, Abashai slowly raised the weapon over his head. In an instant his knees bent, his right foot slid forward and the blade swung down in an diagonal arc, only to be carried up again with its momentum and fall as the Benshira's body rotated and his feet shifted to wield the weapon in a mock attack behind him. The balance ritual continued, a mating of shifting footwork, off hand balance and wide arcing strikes designed to make the most of the heavy weapon's uneven balance. To Abashai, it was an intimate dance with the khopesh, performed as the length of steel became part of himself as the fluid motions carried them through the regimen. The desert man lost himself to the exercise for more than a bell, only stirred from his concentration at the sound of the approaching forest cat. He brought the weapon down, panting, chest heaving. His long dark hair hung in damp tangles, and his torso glistened with sweat. He turned with a wide smile to his mate. "I think I need a bath, how about you?"

[Dusk]

XP Award! Abashai XP Award Longsword: 2 XP Mace: 1 XP Khopesh: 1 XP Lore Award Weapons: Cosmarul Additional Note If there is ever an instance in which dead goats attack, you just link to this thread and remember you have the advantage over those zombie bastards. Also, you should think of a name for your magical weapons, so that the lore is more appropriate - he technically doesn't have knowledge of how to most efficiently fight with all glass-headed maces, just the magical one he has that breaks its glass off in flesh and reforms. However, now that Abashai has practiced with it against flesh, he has an understanding of how the magic works and how to utilize that magic while fighting. If you do come up with a name for it, let me know and I'll edit this! NOTE: Edited!