49th Day of Spring, 506 AV
Boring TrainingIts so boring and uninspired that I actually feel obligated to apologize for this. Spare yourself the torment, turn back now and forget this thread ever existed
Another day, another bruise.
It was bright and early, only a few bells after sunrise and the lakeshore was yet relatively quiet. Insects prattled on in indignation as the young man trudged through grass and trees only to be interrupted every once in a while by an equally shrill and sometimes altogether alien bird call from somewhere up above. His head hurt –still hurt- from a tumble he had taken yesterday while practicing on a serene day just like this one, and the last thing Elias knew he needed was more practicing to help the pain, but yet here he was regardless. His uncle, in his infinite wisdom, had decided to depart Ravok a week or so prior, leaving his now initiated and agitated nephew to wallow in his new found excitement without any proper guidance or instructions. Left to his own devices, Elias’s attempts to simulate his uncle’s “training” style had ended in an equal amount aching disaster, but without any of the miniscule improvements the old man could draw out of his nephew to show for it. The only thing Caiden had managed not to completely disappoint with was the gear and tools he had left behind for Elias to use, so at least there was that to start with. Stifling another thunderous yawn, the young boy made his way over to the training posts the two of them had erected when all this had first began.
The post itself was nothing more than a log wrapped in rope and stuffed with straw, a poor substitute for a real person, even with the painted wash bucket plopped atop it to simulate a head. Glaring angrily at the poorly drawn smiley face staring coldly back at him, Elias once again convinced himself that for his purposes today, it would just have to do. He stood in front of it, making sure to widen his stance so that he didn’t swing himself out of balance, remembering one of the few maxims that his uncle had taught him… Lose your balance, lose your life. He grasped the hilt of the sword that hung at his waist and drew it forward, the sound of the steel sliding out of its scabbard ringing in his ears. He had become much more accustomed to having the additional weight at his side, but sometimes the weight of the weapon in his hands still surprised him every now and again. The shield on his other hand however, was quite common place by now. There was no buck or unexpected dip when he swung or held it upright, just the opposite in fact. He always knew where it would be and how he was going to get it to where he needed it a second later. Both the blade and the shield were just two halves of this puzzle he was still trying to decipher, but eventually, he knew would solve it.
Gripping the hilt and the handle, he held both out in front of him. Silently, he hefted the sword over his head and swung down. The blade dropped more out of its own weight than any force that Elias had put into the swing, being able to do little more than attempt to guide its path. As a result when the blade hit the post it did not sink in to the rope, but bounced off instead. The resulting shock of the impact prevented the young apprentice from bringing the sword back into position quickly. He repositioned himself back in front of the post and tried again, this time swinging from the opposite side. The result was largely the same. He went at the post for several more chimes, repeating the swing from either side. Sometimes the sword would find its mark, but the majority of the time it simply did not. The temperature was still relatively cool, however with his leathers on and the efforts of the morning already weighing on a pounding headache, beads of sweat were beginning to take form on his forehead and neck.
Maybe if I swing like this... he swung from a lower angle. No, no that's not right. Can’t seem to get the damn thing to do what I want. Elias switched up his attack, now instead of swinging it from overhead, he now attempted to thrust the blade forward in a stab. He drew back his arms, the sword now parallel to the ground. When he wasn’t striking with the sword, he attacked with the shield, driving its edge in hard in into all the place he knew he could do the most damage, or that he imagined his sword thrust had left exposed just as he intended to do now. He pushed his arms forward, aiming for the center of the post but he was unable to hold it steady enough and the blade dropped. The attack ended in his blade sliding against the side of the post, instead of the point embedding itself in the rope and straw. Instinctively, his shield arm moved to attack, but he stopped himself short. There was little point in the exercise unless it all worked as intended.
Frustrated, he grumbled something under his breath and pulled the sword back, irked at his own inability. Sometimes he genuinely surprised himself with how terrible he could be with a sword. At this point he had stepped out of his stance and begun swinging at the post furiously from the side, not really expecting to accomplish anything other than release his frustrations. Amazingly however, this time the swing connected; it even seemed half way decent! His ire was quickly replaced with excitement as he got back into place and attempted the swing again. He swung from the side, however the attack seemed to carry less strength, and the blades weight carried it downward. Elias let out a sigh and returned to his original position; sword out in front of him at chest level. By this point his arms, particularly his shoulders, had begun to burn under the weight of the sword. Not one to give up however, he rose the weapon above his head and attacked from above, as if to cleave a man’s head. This time the sword was compliant, and the resulting swing was successful. This kept him motivated, and he was able to push past the burn that his arms felt and continue to practice, though these mixed results were definitely not helping him like he had hoped. So focused was he however, that he didn’t even notice that he had drawn an audience until the man spoke.
