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[Dravite]

32 Summer, 515 AV
Morning, 11th Bell

"It's called a Bec De Corbin."
"It looks like a giant hammer," Dravite smiled.
"My father was fond of the weapon and thus I developed a love of it myself," Trail explained, "I've watched you ride, and I’ve seen you fight. You have the build and with a little training, I believe you will have the strength to wield it successfully." He held the weapon out to Dravite.

The head looked to be made of steel, while the body was solid wood, the colour of cooked honey. Down the length of the handle on either side the weapon was reinforced with metal, and the point of the hammerhead was flat and smooth while the other side looked like a crow's beak, thick, strong, and slightly curved. It had been modified, with the handle shortened; it was more of a horseman's pick than a traditional pole weapon. It was perfectly suited to mounted combat, something Dravite had shown an interest in learning.

"The blunt hammer head is used to smash bones, while the beak is designed to tear through armour. Used efficiently, I've seen many a skull crushed under the swing of this weapon," Trail smiled.
"This one in particular?" Dravite asked.
"No, this one is basically brand new, but her sisters have seen a battle or three."
Dravite laughed, "sisters? You mean to tell me it's a girl?"
Trail smirked, "and isn't she a beauty?"

Dravite took hold of the weapon. It was heavier than his spear, something he noticed quickly. Turning it over in his hands, Dravite examined the weapon, paying close attention to the skilled joinery and metalwork. "She is a fine weapon," he admitted, "but I'm not convinced."
"You're too loyal to that spear, boy."
"It was my father's spear," he felt the need to defend his choice.
"Aye, but you are not your father."

Dravite fell silent and lowered his gaze; what was that supposed to mean? Of course he was not his father, but was there something wrong in attempting to live up to the man's reputation? He was unrivalled with a spear after all. Dravite raised the Bec de Corbin to sit it against his shoulder and frowned; it felt alien and far too heavy to swing with ease.
"Sceptical?" Trail asked.
"I don't think it's for me," Dravite told him.
"How about we get you on that horse and see if I can't convince you then?"

They moved outside, stepping into the midday sun from the cool shade of the open walled tent. Their Striders were hitched to a post, half asleep and basking in Syna's grace. Dravite lay the weapon across Cree's back and attempted to climb onto the sixteen hand stallion, struggling and thrown off balance by the Bec de Corbin; it would take some getting used to. Once he was on his horse, Trail unhitched the pair and mounted his mare to pull up alongside his fellow Watch member.
"Right or left handed?" He asked.
"Right," Dravite admitted.
"Good, keep the targets on your right and swing as long as you're ready. We'll run through the exercise slowly and see how we go from there."

Dravite squeezed Cree's sides gently with his legs causing the animal to stir and trot forward. He practiced trotting his horse up and down the length of targets, letting the Strider grow accustomed to moving so close to objects before he was ready to take a swing.
"Pick up your speed, boy," Trail encouraged, "it will help with momentum."

Dravite clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, signalling for the horse to canter. As they neared the first target, Dravite raised the weapon but the weight caused him to lose his nerve. It wasn't till they dashed towards the second battered breastplate fixed atop a wooden post that he swung the Bec de Corbin and caught the edge of the target with the beak of the weapon.

[Dravite]

The sound of the impact, metal on metal, caused Cree to jump away from the target, and the weapon, buried in the bent and twisted iron, was ripped from Dravite's grasp. It took all of his strength and both hands to keep himself on the horse’s back, both hands closed about a fistful of black mane. The muscles in his limbs strained and his legs tightened against the Strider's sides like the arms of a clamp. Cree gave a powerful buck, throwing his rider hard against his neck, before he stopped suddenly and reared up, kicking his legs out in front of him like the wild grassland horses on the plain. Dravite slipped from the animal's back, biting his lower lip as he met the ground with a thud; he was thankful for the grass that cushioned his fall, but instantly aware of the pain in his lip and the jolt to his existing rib injury. Winded, he lay back against the earth and rolled onto his stomach, sucking a shallow gasp of air through gritted teeth.

Trail rushed to his side and was careful not to move the man too abruptly. "Are you all right; is anything broken?"
"Just my pride," Dravite managed.
Trail laughed, "you need to train your mount better, noise is all a part of battle, if your animal can't handle a bit of noise he isn't going to be very well suited to this line of work."
Dravite got to his felt slowly and closed his left hand over his right side, applying pressure to his rib which throbbed dully. "I'll work on it," he promised and climbed back on the horse before wiping the blood from his jaw.

Removing the Bec de Corbin from the plate metal was no easy task. The beak of the weapon was akin to that of a lion's claw, used to grab and tear flesh or chainmail from the enemy. Dravite's arm muscles strained as he worked the weapon loose and then raised it, holding it close to the hammer's head.
"No!" Trail scolded, "do you want to break your wrist?"
"No, sir."
"Then hold it lower down, this is a two handed weapon, think of it as a quarter staff."
"Then why am I swinging it like a war hammer?" Dravite asked.
"Because this is mounted combat, a bit of bodybuilding won't do you any harm."

Dravite corrected his stance until Trail gave him a satisfied nod. He eyed up the target and steered his horse back to the starting point, turning the animal with the use of his feet.

"Timing, distance, target, and judgement; these are the foundations of successfully mastering this type of weapon," Trail coached him from afar. "Time your swing, use your judgement to measure distance as best you can, take the speed of your mount into consideration, and above all, keep your eyes on the target!"

Dravite raised the weapon to signal that he was listening and ready to give it another go. Trail gave the signal and within a few ticks Cree switched from a trot to a suitable canter. As he sped towards the target, Dravite listened to the footfalls of his Strider and used the rhythm to time his swing, keeping an eye on his target. He swung the weapon and it cut through the air like a weight tied to a string, whacking the edge of the breastplate, causing it to rattle. Instead of giving Cree time to react as poorly as he had the first time, Dravite kicked his horse into a gallop, and took another swing as the second target came into view.

[Dravite]

"That was better!" Trail encouraged, "but you missed the second target by a mile!"
Dravite stopped Cree alongside Trail’s mare and wiped his brow which was wet with sweat. "I didn't take the increase in speed into consideration," he confessed, "I think I was more concentrated to holding on while Cree galloped."
"Excuses," Trail waved a hand, "practice makes perfect; you will master riding in time."
"Again?" Dravite asked.
"Again!" Trail ordered, "At a gallop!"

Dravite kicked Cree and the two were off again. He let the horse gallop by the targets without taking a swing, repeating this until the horse no longer flinched when the targets passed him by. Then, with a fistful of mane and the Bec de Corbin pointed forwards, he steered the galloping Strider towards a target, raised his weapon, timed his swing, and lashed out at the target with the heavy hammer. The metal rattled with the impact, but his precision was off, the hook merely scraping the mark rather than piercing it.

Determined, he rode on, fixing his stance as they flew by the second target before lifting his weapon again to smash the third; the weapon planted deep within the knight's breastplate, torn from the horse lord's grasp once more. Dravite didn't let this deter him, and steered Cree round in a wide circle to head back and collect the weapon. Mounted combat was fast growing on the young Drykas and he soon envisioned himself dedicating a lot more time to the art.
"That's enough," Trail summoned him with a wave of his hand once Dravite had reclaimed the Bec de Corbin, "let's water these horses and get out of the sun for a while; we can work on your stance inside the tent."

Dravite led Cree to the bucket of water outside the tent and removed the yvas from his Striders back before brushing the animal's hair down. Dravite noticed the sweat running down over the horse's neck and took a soaked rag to wash him down before returning to the tent.

Trail stood wielding his own Bec de Corbin. His stance was strong, hands distanced with one palm turned up and the other down, just as Dravite had held his spear whenever he chose to turn it or change up his grip. "Tell me," Trail queried, "what do you suppose each of these points are for."
Dravite studied the weapon for a time, running his thumb over steel beak. "Hooking?" He asked.
"Good," Trail smiled, "the beak is used to hook your enemy behind the leg, you pull a knee out from under him, get him on his back and the use the point to pierce the heart or face."
"And the blunt side?" The horse lord probed.
"Good for smashing his helmet or breaking an arm."
"What if you used the beak to hook your foe’s shoulder and pulled him forward?"
"A good technique," Trail admitted, "as long as you remain mindful of the weapon in his hands, you don't want him to impale you with his sword as he falls in front of you, or cut your legs out from under you with an axe."
Dravite nodded; it was all starting to make a lot more sense now. "It makes me feel slow, or slower than I am with my spear."
"You are slow," Trail smiled, "you won't be for long if you remain committed."
That stung; was he really so slow? Part of him wanted to engage Trail and prove the man wrong. "Then stop talking and start swinging," Dravite grinned.

[Dravite]

Dravite had never used a quarter staff before, but he imagined the style of combat was very similar to the blows of the Bec de Corbin. "Block!" Trail scolded, "you're leaving yourself open; you wouldn't last a chime on the battlefield!"

Dravite attempted to block his teacher’s swing, but fumbled, not knowing where to put his hands, his knuckles red after catching the blunt end of one of Trails attacks. They had been sparring for half a bell, and Dravite wasn't used to pushing his body to such intense extremes. He brushed his brow against his forearm to keep sweat from getting in his eyes and Trail took the opportunity to attempt at putting the man on his back. Dravite parried just in time, stepping away from swing.
"Good!" Trail boomed, "Now you're thinking on your feet!"

He pointed the metal counterweight at Trail in a stabbing motion before sweeping the hook of the weapon up towards his sparring partner, the movements slow but deliberate. "That's it!" Trail encouraged, "Use both ends, the point isn't just for show."
"What kind of block should I use?" Dravite asked, "One hand, or two?"
"Whatever feels comfortable," Trail explained, "but remember that some stances work better than others. If I throw an overhead swing at you, it isn't likely to be the kind of attack you could simply brush off with one hand, but two," he demonstrated, bringing the weapon up over his head, giving Dravite plenty of time to react. "Two hands will successfully stop the blow nine times out of ten, and," he smiled, lifting his foot to lash out at Dravite with a playful kick, "free up the rest of your body to sneak in the odd bit of unarmed combat; enough to surprise the enemy. Give it a try."

They went through the steps slowly. Dravite blocked successfully before kicking Trail in the gut, causing the man to stumble backwards; it was then he was able to swing his weapon and land a strike. There was no strength behind any of their blows; this was all just for training, but good experience none the less.
"Have I convinced you?" Trail smirked.
Dravite straightened up, holding the Bec de Corbin at his side. "I like it," he admitted, "but if I am learning the weapon for mounted combat, why not just keep things simple and set me up with a nice war hammer?"
"Call me biased," Trail shrugged, "but there is no skill in swinging one of them and you can't block like we can with the crow's beak. This has a little more reach and a lot of power when used correctly."
"Understood," Dravite smiled and tested the weight of the weapon in his hands again, "you've convinced me, but how much to acquire this beauty?"
"Thirty," Trail told him.
"Gold!" Dravite asked.
"Aye."
Dravite sighed and took out his coin to count it, totalling the gold in twos. "Twenty, twenty-two, twenty-four, you sure you won't take less, I'll give you twenty-six," Dravite offered.
"There's no negotiation with me, Blackwater; thirty, it's a fair price, especially seen as my father built her."
Dravite grinned and handed over the thirty gold miza. He would deal with Belkaia's scolding later for spending more money without her say so. "You're right," he agreed, "It is a fair price."
"Promise me you won't let her go to waste," Trail pointed to the weapon with his eyes.
"I'll master her in time," Dravite promised, "if she doesn't kill me first."
Trail laughed. "Go on, off with you, I have some work to do; Aris has got me initiating some of his new members while he is away."
"Since when does he give you orders?" Dravite jested.
"Careful, boy; that's no way to speak about your Tavehk."
"My apologies, I best get back to work, might give her a few more swings before I head out on patrol for the afternoon."
"Safe travels," Trail waved, "remember what I taught you; practice it."

Dravite nodded and left the tent with his new weapon.

LedgerBec De Corbin -30 GM

[Dravite]

Outside Cree was ready and waiting, ears pointed forwards as if he had been listening to the pair battle and talk inside the tent. He raked his hoof against the ground and snorted, shaking his mane back and forth. "All right, all right," Dravite grinned, "where did that yvas go?"

He picked up the leather strap and fastened it securely, ducking under the horse to resurface on the other side of him. "What do you say we give it one more go before we head off?"

Cree made a low rumbling noise that seemed to start in his chest, reverberate up his throat and boom through his dark, velvety nostrils. Dravite threw a leg over the horse and lifted the Bec de Corbin. He stared down the line at the targets and gave Cree and gentle kick, urging him forwards into a trot that quickly rolled into a smooth canter, followed by a flying gallop. As they sped towards the first target, Dravite kept all of the tips in mind that Trail had passed onto him and judged the distance between himself and the target, timing his swing to the best of his ability. The first swing was poor, uncontrolled and hap-hazardous, the second much the same, but as he neared the third and final target, the young horse lord readied his weapon, using the last of the strength in his right arm to bring the beak of the weapon down hard against the target, smashing a big dent in the iron breastplate.

He circled back, retracing his steps at a slower speed on the horse's back to assess the damage, pleased with his efforts. "You know I think I could get used to this thing," Dravite beamed, "we may have a future together after all."

[Naiya]

Here's what the Fox says

Name:Dravite
XP Award:

• Acrobatics +3
• Body Building +5
• Endurance +3
• Grooming +2
• Horsemanship +1
• Intelligence +1
• Logic +3
• Mathematics +1
• Medicine +1
• Music +1
• Negotiation +1
• Observation +5
• Planning +2
• Riding +4
• Socialization +5
• Tactics +3
• Unarmed Combat +1
• Weapon: Bec de Corbin +5

Lore:

• Bec de Corbin: A Hooking weapon
• Bec de Corbin : A horselord's hammer
• Bec de Corbin: Mind the timing, distance, and target
• Bec de Corban: One and two handed grips
• Bec de Corban: Proper attack grip
• Bec de Corbin: Use your judgement!
• Cree: Needs battle training
• Dravite: I know I am not my father
• Horsemanship: Cooling your mount with water
• Horsemanship: Grooming your mount after a ride
• Mathematics: Counting by twos
• Medicine: Assessing your injuries
• Mounted Combat: A war trained mount
• Mounted Combat: Requires speed and strength
• Mounted Combat: Try not to fall off
• Mounted Combat: Use your whole body
• Music: Keeping rhythm

Awards: Bec de Corban!

Notes: You said there were a lot of hidden skills. I hope I managed to find them all. If there were any lore you were expecting to get that I missed let me know, I tried to get the important ones. Same with skills, just shoot me a PM if you have questions or concerns.