Tempering One's Will (Solo)

[Gunho Ma]

Winter 26, 511 AV Gunho liked the feel of this weapon he'd recently obtained. He liked the balance, the weight and the snugness of its leather grip against his palm. It was a good blade and it would serve any swordsman well. That was the thing though, Gunho was no swordsman. He'd never actively trained in the use of a sword, he knew next to nothing about blades and yet he felt compelled to arm himself with steel. These were trying times and even the Shinya instructors who were dangerous with their arms and feet saw the advantage of having a melee weapon to use against other armed foes. He would not have the luxury of having a proper teacher but he had the fortune to train with someone who actually knew how to fight. An old mercenary he'd paid five golden mizas had accepted his challenge. It took awhile to find a suitable place for training but there were such places in the heart of civilization. "Everything starts with exercise. This is important, something I learned the hard way when I was young like you." the old mercenary shook a finger at this one-time student warily and smiled. "Go do something hard when you ain't warmed up and you may sprain yourself. Not good if you've got work where you gotta use more of your body than mind. I'll show you a few good exercises you can do alone." Gunho watched carefully as the old man went through a cycle of exercises that he was going to have to start sticking to religiously. It sort of reminded him of this days as a viraya, he and his peers had always been made to do tiring things that were always important to their growth as viraya. This seemed more practical though. "Learning how to use the blade ain't as simple as knowing how to swing it or how a thrust is performed. Takes more than just that." the old mercenary drawled. "You gotta have the will to kill people, when you draw your blade and your opponent does the same you gotta be prepared to put your all into it. If you don't... you should just lay down you arms and die." the old teacher confronted Gunho with a sensitive topic and gave him a cold hard look."Tell me Gun, ever killed a man before?"

[Gunho Ma]

That was a hard question to answer. Gunho didn't even want to, but he saw no reason to lie to the man. Denying the mercenary a clear answer didn't seem like the right thing to do to a teacher. "Once, only one... It left a bad taste in my mouth." There was a brief moment of silence between student and instructor. The man seemed to be gauging the half-vantha now, his long stare was silent, his eyes looked like they were delving into Gunho's very soul. "Gun, listen to me." the mercenary spoke softly and out of character. "This world we live in here, she's a cruel world. Not gonna deny that. That's why folks like me with no talent for anything but killin' get to make a living. It'd be the best if you accepted that sometimes, you have to kill people to save your own skin, or a friend's. You have to be prepared to harm people, that's what any kind of fighting style is about no matter the weapon." "I know," Gunho sighed but his hand squeezed his sword switching between firm and relaxed grips. "I just wished it wasn't that way." "Hmpf." the mercenary scratched his head but pressed on despite the momentary silence between them. "Well I'm here to teach you how to use swords so lets begin. You told me a bit about yourself earlier, you trained with those warriors in Lhavit?" "Since I was young." he replied. The mercenary looked pleased. "Then you know a bit about footwork?" "Its what keeps you alive. Its usually the first step to anything you do." "And it is." the mercenary agreed. "Not sure what they teach you at your temple or whatever it is, but I'm going to drill you here with footwork. Job's simple. See those boxes below you?" Gunho didn't notice any boxes when he got here but now that he knew what he was looking for he saw it. Faded in the stone, boxes in the soil big enough for a foot. This must have been something children used for a game... but what was it going to do for him. "You have to learn how to move while keeping your balance." the mercenary gently reassured Gunho that everything would go smoothly. "I'll perform first, then you follow and keep imitating me until the afternoon ends or your feet gives way."

[Gunho Ma]

This exercise reminded Gunho so much of those training sessions at Lhavit, the one where two acolytes were pushing against each other face to face with fingers locked upon the other's hands while they danced across the courtyard trying to destabilize the other warrior. He moved swiftly, feet sliding behind or ahead the other while he moved from box to box. His shoes only glided barely an inch off the ground before landing so he would always have a stable and firm foundation with which he could defend or strike from. This was nothing more than a fundamental exercise in footwork, but the heart of many traditional combat forms was the ability to retain stability despite the rapid relocation of feet. The pair worked at this, the instructor and student feinting a battle without weapons as they danced circles around each other. It was a tiring and tedious activity but Gunho understood the value of the basics more than many amateurs might have. He owed his viraya training for that. "A good pair of feet you have." the mercenary commented roughly. "Lets try that with a real weapon." Gunho understood what the man meant. He lifted his shortsword, the still-sheathed shortsword with it's hilt securely bound to the sheath by the holes he'd asked to be placed into the handguard. This was a modification meant for training and now he had the chance to use a weapon without the risk of actually cutting someone. "I'm going to attack you where most skilled fighters might, I'll mark your vitals and limbs... I'll do this while you move so just keep moving while I pressure you. Eventually you'll learn how to protect yourself with your weapon by instinct, but my advice is to keep it between you and your enemy. Never bring your sword too far away from your body since you'll never know when you might want to be able to put some muscle behind your blade." When the mercenary was finished speaking he was upon Gunho with his weighted wooden sparring sword. He was swift, his moves economical and his thrusts quick to be dragged about the length of Gunho's blade to be shifted to his face again. Gunho winced every moment he had to block attacks, it was painful on his arm and maneuvering his hand was too. He found himself retreating often, then he made a mistake... another blocked strike had drawn itself up his blade with its pointed edge flying to his face. He automatically guarded his upper body without realizing he did. That was a fatal mistake, the man stepped back and the thrust never came... not where he intended. The mercenary's sparring sword lightly tapped the side of his abdomen. "Instinct," the man growled firmly. "It can save you and sometimes it can lead to your death. People usually shield themselves when they see something quick coming up to their face. When you fight you have to be creative, think of ways to use everything you see against your enemy so you can catch them off-guard. Their instincts is one of the best weapons you can use against them." Gunho held his weapon in front of him again, his knuckles white. His trainer laughed, wagging his finger to scold the inexperienced fighter. "Too tight. Your grip has to be firm, but not rigid. Keep this in mind, flexibility lets you keep your hands on your weapon longer than a stern hand can."

[Gunho Ma]

Gunho's shortsword and his instructor's wooden sword noisily smashed against each other while the former acolyte retreated, his steps small but sure so that he could always retain stability against his opponent. The man's methods of teaching were crude, he was not a swordsman learned through any breathing mentor, experience was this mercenary's teacher. Gunho understood that this skill was forged in real combat and the former acolyte respected experienced fighters who taught with their bodies as much as he did highly technical ones that spoke of theory. Each attack he was being forced to defend against were standard areas for attack and soon he was noticing a pattern of strikes and he was slowly but surely learning how to evade and as a last resort block them. From the head, the arms, the torso and legs - those were the areas he paid special interest in. He was starting to subconsciously guide his shortsword in a sweeping fashion to areas that were common targets of the average fighter, much like the way he used sweeping blocks to disperse attacks instead of taking the full force of punches and kicks. This was a lot like fighting unarmed duels, awareness was key to developing the reflexes with which a man could defend himself with. But there was a limit to what he could do being a mere novice with little to no experience training with the shortsword. Even with previous instruction in a different martial skill Gunho was limited, he could find his weapon missing his opponent's frequently. A simple change in stance of footwork always allowed the mercenary to sneak into his guard because Gunho was only creating simple predictions. Yet the mercenary commended him... and in the same breath scolded him for his simple minded strategy. If he couldn't predict the next attack because he was too distracted fending off the current he needed to simply step back than rely on a half-baked guess. If there was some breathing room then he could observe calmly and learn from his opponent with each passing second... and develop a more accurate prediction for attacks. That was exactly what he did. His feet danced, shoes lightly gliding as he spun to intimidate his instructor into relenting. He created some space and kept that distance by reliance on his foot work... and a kick that came out of nowhere from the midst of blade-lock. It was a swift front-push kick, almost harmless but it did some damage and it was faster than many of the other kicks in his repertoire.

[Gunho Ma]

He moved like a windmill, pivoting on a foot while he used the momentum to draw twin wide slashes with his shorsword. Using the entire body weight, as he'd come to realize only moments ago into this training, could lend an easily deflected blow some true power behind it. Gunho used this newfound discovery in his attacks, he threw his weight, weight in motion and hammered away at the mercenary who was starting to enjoy this development. He hadn't thought that the boy would learn that early. "A one-handed blade might not carry the same power a blade you can carry with both hands can, but a technique where you shift your weight can compensate if there are no vitals exposed to your weapon." he took a break and stepped out from combat stance to get himself a drink. "But I do have vitals exposed. How about instead of simply reacting, you can draw your blade in a predictable manner in front of me. This discourages me from taking that path and if you have an inkling as to where I may attempt to strike you could prepare for that... a kick to a swordsman ducking low against your horizontal high guard slash is a simple example." Gunho mulled over the thought as he swallowed a mouthful of water. "So you turn the blade into a shield...?" "Yeah. Something like that." he popped his fingers one at a time and flexed his hands around his sword, inviting Gunho to step forward himself. "Lets go." And go they did. Gunho had began to attack, imitating his instructors motions though the shape of his weapon unconsciously dictated him to resort to more chopping counters than thrusts to discourage advancement. That wasn't a bad thing, a slash had an arc, a greater zone of impact but being slower than thrusts he had to use footwork to compensate for its weakness. A slash he delivered coming from the right would force him to step back on the foot he launched that attack from, the reverse also held true. It kept his blade foremost, the unarmed side ever being held behind in relative safety. Tiny footsteps, compact movement, an awareness of one's body in relation to the enemy. It was tough juggling all of them and every now and then he tripped, legs crossing in his haste to avoid thrusts delivered from rapid side-steps of his instructor. "Admirable attempts though, can't let you forget that, stand up and lets go another run." And he did, he heaved himself up, drawing his body to a crouch with his limbs coiled to spring himself into offense or defense as the situation demanded it.

[Gunho Ma]

When he was finally getting his bearing his mentor changed the state of the game by applying more pressure than ever. A flurry of attacks, feints and highly dynamic maneuvers... these took him off guard and suddenly he'd lost all the ground he'd gained. His familiarity was replaced by a feverish desire to keep up. His shortsword raced in his hand, covering rapid arcs that he couldn't stop and so he pushed through them, pivoting to deliver seconds if he wasn't being hit already. But he wasn't becoming any faster. His opponent was too skilled and he too far out of his element. Gunho decided to bring the game closer to his forte and engaged the opponent in extremely close combat by bursting at the most unexpected moment to drive the other's blade as close to his throat as was possible... he would fail in that, there was no way he could best a swordsman in a clash of blades. But he might have had a shot using his forte. He'd stepped in, further with his leading foot coming in behind the other fighter's legs and in one quick pull the forced the man's foot forward destabilizing the mercenary. It was a martial artist's technique but the mercenary was able to quickly roll into recovery. "That's not illegal either." the mercenary smiled, his sparring blade keeping Gunho from following through in his success. "In a fight everything goes, you can use your hands and legs as much as you would your sword. You would do well to remember." Gunho nodded quietly and took up a new stance. With his sword held high over his head he waited, his tunic fluttering in the cold wind for a few moments until the folded as he brought the sword down to the thrust that had come. He couldn't deflect it and ended up being pushed back and falling on his rear. "Commendable." his instructor laughed and held out a hand so Gunho could get up. "I think you'll make a fair swordsman if you train everyday like this for the rest of winter." He stood up with assistance and rubbed the dirt off his pants with the hilt of his weapon. "I sure hope so." he didn't but this blade to make a fool of himself, he wanted to become competent with it.

[Chevalier]

Gunho Ma

LORE

• Attacking the Vitals
• Short Sword Stance
• Proper Short Sword Grip

EXPERIENCE

Skill	XP Earned
Acrobatics	2
Body Building	1
Short Sword	4
Observation	2
Unarmed Combat	2

Storyteller Notes

Secret :

Alrighty! I feel the dancing/finesse style dodges and footwork does belong in Acrobatics, that seems to make sense. I gave a bit of Body Building, in general Body Building comes from stressful exercises designed to increase your mass. It doesn’t have to be lifting weights per se, but good old push ups or what have you will get you through novice most likely. Some of the exchanges were slightly ambiguous, but I could swear I saw Gunho do some martial arts styled attacks, so I gave a bit of Unarmed Combat. Just when writing especially in combat scenarios where you are controlling the PC and the NPC make sure to leave out stuff like “he” and “him” and always title the proper party. So instead of “He created some space and kept that distance by reliance on his foot work... and a kick that came out of nowhere from the midst of blade-lock.” It would be like “Gunho created some space…” or “The masseuse created some space…” or something to make sure the distinction is clear that it’s Gunho or the Merc. Great thread!