Observing Steel [Bolden Denusk]

by **Matthial** on July 28th, 2011, 7:57 pm

20th of Summer, 511AV

Sigmund Matthial leaned back on his heels, eyeing the scene before him. Several massive tents surrounded a large field. In the middle of the open space, a large group of people had split into various pairs for training. The War Pavilion of the Endrykas was overflowing under the summer sky. With the return of several hunting parties, and several families from the outskirts, training was reaching a peak. The sound of people's voices and grunts where drowned out by the clash of iron and steel, the thud of arrows, and the sharp barks of pain. The warriors of the Endrykas where testing their skills.

For his part, the visitor watched. He was lost. Not only literally, but figuratively as well. It was only a few short days ago that he had killed. That it was in self-defense was little consolation. Matthial was in the middle of a strange time in his life, a transition from an uncontrolled yet slow-burning fury, to patience and piety. He wanted to change. Needed to change. Yet no matter how he spun it, the dark abyss of fury mingled with the blood of combat.

I can still see his eyes going blank...

Matthial shuddered as he took in a breath. The young man stood alone under the summer sun. Dressed in a simple tunic and some worn trousers. A single boot dug into the ground as the man re-adjusted his sword at his side. The instrument of his defense had lately become something that felt like a burning coal on his hip. He remembered a conversation with his brother, about the sword being his hammer, and every problem a nail.

With a free hand, the young man dug into his pocket. In truth, he wasn't sure if outsiders where welcome training among the Drykas. He simply didn't know the culture well enough. If he couldn't join in, he would watch. Slowly withdrawing a pipe and a small hide pouch, the young man stuck the pipe in the side of his mouth and withdrew a pinch of tobacco from the pouch along with a single match.

Looking to the sun, the man filled the bowl while watching the nearest duel. Two opponents faced off in the Drykas fashion, and Matthial found himself thinking to his teacher in Syliras. He watched each fighter's 'energy-state' and found one clearly superior to the other. It was several minutes before the less-experienced man fell to one knee under the blows of his opponent.

Matthial lit the match, and with two fingers lowered it into the bowl while puffing.

The wanderer stood by himself, lost in contemplation while smoking.

by **Bolden Denusk** on July 28th, 2011, 9:16 pm

"Nightwind stay by the rail till I call you." Bolden said to his Strider. He hopped over the fence with youthful energy and leaned against it, propping up his right leg.

"How do they do it? I can tell you anything about how to tame and train the wildest horse or Strider, but I can barely tell which end is which on a sword." The young Denusk said in high admiration. He watched the sparring with envy, his left hand lightly on his sword, looking wistful.

Seeing smoke, he turned in surprise at the dark haired man near him.

'Shyke! He caught me talking to my Strider and watching sword play like a child! I'm definitely not helping the Drykas image with that!' Bold thought in shame. He quickly smothered his embarrassment, smiled at the man and attempted to casually introduce himself.

"Hey, I'm Bolden and--" An enormous 16 hh Strider shoved Bold in the back, almost knocking him forward.

"And that's my obnoxious Strider, Nightwind. He's got a bit of an attitude." He shoved the animal back affectionately and looked closer at the human next to him.

The young man's eyes drifted to the stranger's sword and noticed the well worn handle of long use. The man's right arm muscles were markedly defined, giving evidence of his skills.

"You any good with that?"

by **Matthial** on July 28th, 2011, 9:52 pm

Matthial could only blink as Bolden introduced himself. In truth, the young man had lost himself in the smoke and nicotine. He had hardly noticed the younger man or his steed. Now that the man was looking at him however, Matthial returned the favor, looking Bolden up and down.

If he found something noteworthy, or lacking, he gave no indication, instead simply staring for a long moment. He had no idea what to say. If this young man had approached him a few minutes ago, he would have scolded him for such an attitude.

"You any good with that?"

Then, he remembered a young boy many years ago, who had put forth a similar question. He remembered his old master's response, and in a twist of irony smiled through a puff of smoke.

"I am trained in its use, yes."

He looked to the horse and puffed on the pipe again.

"Are you any good with that?"

He doubted the young man would understand his meaning, so instead he continued to puff on his pipe as he turned to the ensemble of people training before them. He eyed a nearby coupling. Two women facing each other with sword and shield. He motioned towards the shorter woman.

The girl's bandanna whirled in the wind as she ducked a vicious blow from her opponent, she frantically pulled the blade up to parry another swing, and then another and another. The young woman continued to backpedal as she tried to desperately gain footing.

"See that young woman? She doesn't know it, but she already lost. Sword fighting is just that, fighting. Learning how to use a sword is utterly pointless if you have no idea how to fight. No, the two aren't mutual."

The last had been directed at his brother by their teacher. Something that everyone should know in Matthial's opinion. He turned and offered a scarred hand.

"Matthial."

It was a Syliras greeting, as Matthial didn't exactly know Drykas custom. Taking another puff he eyed the younger man with something bordering interest.

"So, what brings you hereabouts?"

by **Bolden Denusk** on July 28th, 2011, 11:03 pm

Bolden's posture stiffened out of long habit when he saw -that look- on the stranger.

'That's a familiar look and I can't place where I've seen it.'

His mind flashed a rapid memory of that specific scolding look paired with a golden haired young man yelling at him, but for the life of him, he just couldn't remember who that was. Bold shook his head trying to make the memory clear or go away.

His eyes narrowed and hardened to amber at the man's distinctive tone. He exhaled and put a hand on the Strider's neck to help cool his temper.

'I'm not stupid! What's his problem with--ooh. Right. To brag about a skill is asking for trouble.'

Bolden choked on the smoke, trying to wave it out of his face and Nightwind snorted in irritation at the stink. He looked at the man with a scowl.

"A Strider is not a weapon, but yes I'm proficient. The best part of horses is that every day there's more to learn about them."

He slapped Nightwind on the shoulder. The dark Strider tossed his head as if in agreement and nickered at his rider. A thought passed between them and he nodded to the animal.

Bolden turned back to Matthial, trying to ignore the fact that the stranger had some petching poor manners on top of making judgements.

'Outsider.'

When the man pointed at the dueling pair, Bold watched with keen interest. He noted her feet were moving a lot more than the other woman's. The taller one moved her wrist and elbow with fluid grace and only involved the shoulder when a thrust was completed. She fought like she rode-with confidence in her skill.

The young man nodded, just beginning to understand the meaning beneath the words.

"It's like trying to ride a horse by holding onto the leg. It's the part that moves, but that's not where you sit to control it." He made the comparison and the simple words became comprehension.

'He finally offers a handshake and name after a lesson?!' The young man was more than a little startled, but moved to accept it. He took the offered hand, giving him a firm shake and a nod.

'Not Drykas, but I might learn a thing or two from him.' he thought cautiously.

"I'm here to figure out which end of a sword is which." He answered with a wry smile. "What about you?"

by **Matthial** on July 29th, 2011, 12:25 am

Matthial blinked once more, this time in confusion. This young Drykas was answering the questions perfectly. It was his attitude that was odd. Like summer turning to fall. Matthial doubted he was more then a year older then the other man. Yet he was certain that he had a higher education, for the simple fact that Bolden didn't recognize a test when he saw it. Matthial had been fairly certain to get his point across, but Bolden took it more personally. Matthial paused, looking at the sky and giving a slow puff as he remembered his hosts.

Sama'el and Denen where both quite jumpy, they reminded him of the horses they rode. Maybe all Drykas where like this, taking things at face value as opposed to reading between the lines like he had been raised. While it was interesting to think of the cultural differences, Matthial found it was getting in the way of basic communication.

"I'm here because I like to watch the combatants. The ebb and flow of combat is something that I know, and study as often as possible."

Looking to the sky and exhaling, Matthial continued while placing the pipe in the corner of his mouth.

"I don't know much about horses. I ride 'em. Not much more to it. What about you? Why do you want to learn more about the blade? Surely you could go hit up one of those fine things."

He made eyebrow-waggling motions while looking over his shoulder at the two women. Matthial gave no indication of noticing Bolden's scowl, instead turning back to the sparring partners as they started another round. He wanted dearly to say that the point he had been trying to make was that sword practice was exactly the same as horse-back riding, but he honestly thought it would be lost on the Drykas.

by **Bolden Denusk** on July 29th, 2011, 1:43 am

Bold nodded at the comment,

"You sound like me at a horse drive. They're my life. If I could spend my life doing only one thing, it would be watching anything equine."

Both eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline at the comment, 'I ride 'em. Not much more to it.'

"You're in the same Yvas I am!" Bolden laughed. "Learning to defend yourself and learning about horses are two main essentials in Endrykas. I put all my attention on one and you put all your interest in the other!"

Bolden watched the swords clang and clatter, dust raising at each step. The combatants starting sweating heavily as the sun pressed from overhead. The crowd was thick--and smelled like it. The myriad scents and sounds of so many people were comforting to him. As if, in flooding himself with enough things, he'd jog his memory back and find out who he is again.

He looked at Matthial, noting his puzzled expression, and tried not to smile.

'He's got to be from a big city. Words within words to have hidden meanings and duel with conversations like sharp weapons. I would hate to be so guarded and untrusting of everyone around me all the time, every breath. It must be exhausting and depressing. What a miserable life. No wonder he came to a great place like Endrykas.'

"I want to learn the blade so I can rely on myself and keep working at it. To have the confidence that I'm learning a skill that takes a lifetime to master--just like horses. To learn a skill is to admire it."

Bolden flicked a glance behind him to smile and wave at the girls with old familiarity. They blushed and giggled, returning his wave.

"The Silvergrass sisters? Been there. Done them." The young man shrugged carelessly, dismissing the subject with the wave of a hand.

"Women, I can have them any time. Knowledge, however, is another matter entirely." He returned his attention to Matthial, trying to blatantly make a point the city man might get.

"If you don't know enough about horses, it could mean the difference between life and death. Nightwind has saved my life more times than I care to count."

Bold paused for a moment to smirk, "The same thing with swords. I can lift a sword, but not much more to it..."

by **Matthial** on July 29th, 2011, 8:20 pm

Matthial took another puff before eyeing the sisters in question.

"Er... I meant..."

Then he realized it didn't really matter what he had actually meant, since the Drykas had interpreted it in an entirely different fashion. Correcting him would just be trite, so Matthial just gave a lazy grin.

"Eh. True."

Chewing on the pipe stem, Matthial raised an eyebrow at Bolden.

"Say.. you belong to the horse-clans yes? Can visitors train here too? It looks exclusive."

Blowing out the last bit of smoke, the man withdrew the pipe from his mouth, and dumped the ashes out onto the dirt. Tapping the sides of the briar bowl, the man gave a grin to Bolden.

"How's about you show me what you know about sword-fighting? I'd be interested in what the Drykas are taught. In turn, I'm sure I can show you a trick or two that my old master used on me."

It was a more or less open invitation. Matthial wasn't sure what to make of this Bolden character, so he'd rather judge the man based on his acts, as opposed to words. This would also be an excellent opportunity to see how the Drykas fought and what kind of battle philosphy they practiced.

by **Bolden Denusk** on July 30th, 2011, 1:30 am

Bolden looked closely at the man's posture and expression, reading him as he would a new horse.

'Rigid shoulders denoting anticipation, restraint, and tension. Fidgeting with hands so he's wanting for something physical, yearning for movement but forcing himself to stay still. Head posture carefully controlled showing caution and self consciousness. Small, deliberate foot movements showing evidence of some kind of intensive training. Gods! He must be a teacher!'

"Well yes and no. This is the area for the advanced to hone their skills and take on challengers, so it's very exclusive over in this part. Follow me."

The young man walked a little further to the back near some trees. This small field was set up with practice targets of all sizes for arrows and swords and mounting stumps. Hoof prints had flattened the grass and turned it a deep golden color with a side purpose of a softer landing.

A young boy of about 14 left the far corner, riding a bit awkwardly alongside his father.

"Field's clear!" he called out to Matthial and Bolden as they came into view. The older man looked at the Outsider as if trying to judge his riding skills.
"New student Bold?"

"Yea. Me!" He chuckled in answer.

"About time too! I was wondering when a relative would find ya to train ya in a weapon."

The comment stung, but he let it pass.
'I'll chew on it later.' he thought.

Bold waved him off and mounted the Strider that kept up an even pace as they walked. He gestured to each place as he talked, keeping Nightwind at Shoulder-in to continue facing the man. The Strider's shoulder faced Matthial at about a 30 degree angle while his outside foreleg moved in sync with his inside hind leg.

"This is the teaching field for weapons and riding. It's the novice ring so it's usually clear this time of day because it's the hottest. Most people are ready for a nap and something cold to drink for the next two bells. You see the corner those two just left? That's the riding area."

Bolden looked a little embarrassed, and said,

"It would be great to have a weapons teacher but uh... I could only barter. Seeing as your an Outsider, I might be lucky enough to learn from you, but I'd need to barter a skill of equal measure. I don't remember my family, so the Drykas have taught me nothing of the blade for you to evaluate."

He let the comment hang in the air, as heavy as the dust raised by Nightwind's passing.

http://www.mizahar.com/forums/post92099.html#p92099

by **Matthial** on July 30th, 2011, 1:52 pm

Matthial openly blinked as he came to a stop in the new area. He seemed to pause, and paw at the long strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes. Wiping the hair away, the man put his pipe back in the pouch, securing it while looking around. As Bolden finished speaking, he rubbed at his mustache for a second, seemingly thinking. In truth, he wasn't sure what to make of his new host. How could a man be raised without the knowledge of a sword? He'd always assumed the Drykas to be fierce warriors based on their high mortality rate. Maybe they had exceptions to the rule? Or maybe he's just being humble.

Matthial sort of squinted at Bolden for a second, and then choked back laughter. Putting his hand on the hilt of his sword he addressed the other man.

"Heh, well, alright. Howabout this, Ill show you some basic strikes, parries, and some footwork. In return, you can show me some tricks on how to work with a horse."

With this said, Matthial pulled his sword from its sheath. Despite the worn and battered appearance of the leather-banded hilt, the blade was in almost perfect condition, and from the looks of it, recently sharpened.

by **Bolden Denusk** on July 30th, 2011, 4:41 pm

Bolden signaled with two fingers to Nightwind that he should find a shady place to wait. His mien changed from eager young man to a Denusk of serious intent.

He nodded respectfully to Matthial and pulled out the barely dinged sword from its sheath. His left hand grasped the handle firmly but with some give, pointing the tip between the man's chest and throat. His right hand hovered over the wrist guard of the sword, his palm down and the arm almost straight with the elbow slightly bent. Bold moved his feet as if he seemed to be astride a horse diagonally, and spread his weight between the very center of the arc of his legs and rested it marginally to a slight lean on the right foot. In an identical move the Strider executed earlier, he kept his left shoulder at a 30 degree angle toward Matt.

He squinted and quickly scrutinized Matthial.

'He's shorter so he'll have a much better defensive advantage and angle, but a shorter reach as weakness. I'm taller so it'll give me a longer reach and more range of motion, but leave me open to attack as a strong weakness.'

The young man didn't know how he knew what he did. The assessment and memory just happened like breathing.

'I'm getting things back! There's something about this man that's making me reminisce! Pay attention man.'

Another memory rushed by him and flashed over quick as a chime.

An older man with similar features to his, held a magnificent sword with a deep blue sapphire in the center of the hilt-like his own.

"When you hold a sword, it is with intent to kill. If I see you smile when you hold a sword, I'll beat you bloody, you understand?"

The 12 year old boy nodded with wide eyes, all traces of a smile vanishing.

"Fight as the horse does and always keep this first in your mind. A herd stallion always fights to kill and that is an extension of us. There is no room or mercy for an ignorant man in our clan. Learn as if it means life and death; because it does."

With these words, the boy's father rushed him with the gleaming and deadly sword.

Bolden blinked rapidly and found himself back in the deserted training ring with Matthiel.

It was time to learn.