From Here to Yahebah [Ke'sear]

[Nahali]

Day 20 of Spring, 510 AV

The long, purple fingers of twilight stretched across the endless hills and valleys of sand, making the familiar desert look like an otherworldly place. Night fell quickly in the desert, unimpeded by clouds or terrain, and temperatures dropped just as quickly too. A breath of chill made Nahali shiver and pull her mantle close around her shoulders. Slowly, the stars emerged from the darkening sky, thousands upon thousands of them, as clear and luminous as a Benshiran maiden's eyes shining through a black veil.

It was the first day of her Tent's yearly expedition to Yahebah, where they would trade their pottery, wool, and desert herbs and spices for foodstuffs, olive oil, and other necessities. Normally, they made the journey later in the season, but the above-average warmth this spring meant the goats needed to be sheared early to keep them cool in the heat. For three full days after the shearing, the spinners and weavers worked almost nonstop to transform the shorn goat hair into soft, sturdy fabric. Only last night, the weavers finally announced that they had finished their work. The very next morning, Abiel instructed his Tent to pack up their tents and start off toward Yahebah.

Nomads to the core, they made a swift, efficient start soon after dawn. The bulk of their traveling would happen during the early morning and late afternoon into the evening, with a period of rest during the hottest hours of the day. Their route had been planned in advance to include as many known watering holes and springs as possible. In the light of day, they navigated using their knowledge of the prevailing winds that blew in spring; at night, they relied on the constellations to guide them to Yahebah.

As they rode, Nahali couldn't help wishing she were a better horsewoman; she wanted to be able to ride herd on the milling mass of people on horseback the same way her sheepdog Abir herded her flocks of goats. Just riding normally made the long scar across her torso ache, though. Enduring a minor ache kept her alert and ready for anything, but continually suffering a deep, throbbing ache was no way to cross the desert. Instead, she contented herself with keeping a watchful eye on the other horses and camels, as well as the flocks of goats and cattle they were driving ahead of them. If any of them strayed from the path, Nahali would see and call out to them to rejoin the Tent. She hoped that would be enough.

After two more hours of riding, Abiel the patriarch finally ordered that they make camp. In short order, tents were pitched and the livestock pastured, and the older women gathered at the center of camp to cook the evening meal. A collective sigh of relief seemed to rise from the Tent as everyone else headed off to rest from their day's ride.

Amid the bustle, Nahali took Ke'sear aside toward a quiet area of the camp, where they would bother no one. The day after he joined their Tent, Ke'sear had suggested sparring every day, matching her walking staff against his scimitar. Nahali had been surprised but amenable. She had never really grasped the fine points of fighting with her staff beyond using one end to thump people. Now that he was here, it was as good a time to learn as any.

In a cleared space of relatively flat sand, Nahali and Ke'sear stood facing each other. Ke'sear smiled at her encouragingly as he drew his scimitar and brandished it with one hand. The curving blade shone in the glow of the nearby cook-fires. He gestured at her with the other hand, inviting her to attack. Nahal hesitantly gripped her staff at the middle with both hands and planted her feet carefully in the sand.

"Come on," Ke'sear said, smiling. "Try and hit me."

[Ke'sear]

OOC: well I had wrote this nice large post but I forgot to login and it deleted it all, so I will skip to the sparring. Sorry, il make sure i remember next time.


"Stand more like this." Ke'sear indicated that she should have a little wider base, with one foot about 16 inches farther forward then the other. Drawing his own weapon he copied her now correct form of standing. Holding his weapon pointed downwards at a nonchalant angle Ke'sear looked as relaxed as if he had a nice meal and a cup of tea to wash it down. "Now I have to admit, I have no experiance fighting with or aginst the bow-staff, but you should press the advantages you have. Reach is your main advantage but also is momentum, once you get the that thing going if you hit somebody, they will feel it." Bending his knees slightly and raising his scimitar Ke'sear indicated to Nahali that she should strike at him. "Dont be afraid of hitting me, it will ruin the point of sparring."

[Nahali]

Nahali wrinkled her brow momentarily, puzzled as ever by the way Ke'sear continually referred to her walking staff as a "bow-staff." It seemed like a strange thing to call something that was basically a plain, straight length of hard olive wood that she used mostly to support herself after exhausting treks across the desert. The first time she'd asked him what it meant, he told her that it was just the name that he had learned for a staff used for fighting, which had stuck with him ever since. One might as well wonder why you called the sky "sky" or sand "sand," Nahali supposed.

Still, every now and then, she stole glances at her walking staff when she heard him say "bow-staff." It didn't look much like a bow to her. Where would you nock the arrow?

Hastily dismissing these thoughts from her mind, Nahali adjusted her stance the way he advised. It felt strange to place one foot ahead of the other like this, rather than keeping them at shoulder width. She shifted her weight more toward her front foot and frowned, contemplating what to do next. Even though Ke'sear had told her to attack him, Nahali still felt uncomfortable at the thought of actually striking him. Instead, she decided to just test him at first.

With the right end of the staff, Nahali feinted at him with a thrust aimed at his shoulder. Watching her movements keenly, Ke'sear lightly deflected her attempt with the edge of his blade. He makes it look so easy, Nahali thought, slightly nettled.

This time, she feinted with the left end of her staff. The walking staff felt thick and clumsy in her hands, though, making her move too slowly to surprise him. Ke'sear easily parried this thrust as well. The gleam in his eyes seemed to indicate both amusement and impatience, as though he knew what she was trying to do and wanted her to try harder.

Narrowing her eyes, Nahali decided to comply. As quickly as she could, she lifted her staff high above her head with both hands. It felt much heavier than she expected. With a grunt of effort, she brought the staff down hard, aiming for his head. The air whistled around the end of the staff as gravity helped accelerate its downward arc.

That might do it, Nahali thought. She had always been strong and hardy, but grace and speed had almost never been her gifts. Maybe this sparring would help that, or at least make their lack less of a shortcoming in combat.

[Ke'sear]

Ke'sear was truly in his element now, he loved combat. If one could see it, then a picture painted by a master of his weapon could truly be considered an art. Flicking Nahalis thrust and swing aside almost with contempt, K'sear thought to himself, "She better hope she does not meet any bandits." Watching as Nahali back away and repostioned her feet he hoped she would wise up and accually try to hurt him. Watching as the muscles in her face contorted with effort while she raised the staff high above her head, arcing her back in order to throw everything she had into one blow. Ke'sear could have laughed if he had not been the target. Waiting till after she had started her downward accelartion he stepped to the side, smiling as Nahali crashed into the sand sending clouds of sand flying every which direction.

watching as she pulled herself up from the sand he layed the flat of his blade on the back of her neck. "Dead" He wispered, then walking around to help her up and to give her some pointers. "Try to use the reach of the weapon, watch." Ke'sear said, taking the staff in one hand and holding it straight out compared to his scimitar in the other. The staff had a good one and a half foot reach advantage. "The other thing, keep your balance, dont compromise your balance even for the chance at a killing stroke."

Walking over around her and resetting himself Ke'sear said "Agian"

[Nahali]

With no small amount of confusion, Nahali climbed back to her feet and brushed the sand from her face and clothes. She'd planted her feet the way he'd told her to when she'd attempted to hit Ke'sear, but apparently the momentum of her strike had been enough to throw her completely off her feet and face-first into the sand. Or perhaps the sand had unexpectedly given way under her feet. After helping her up and demonstrating his points, Ke'sear returned her staff to her and took up another defensive stance. She accepted it without comment, her face expressionless and serious.

Behind her impassive features, though, Nahali's thoughts buzzed busily. If she hadn't been his sparring partner, Nahali thought she might very well feel sorry for Ke'sear. It was a strange thing to feel pity for someone superior to you, but there it was. Poor fellow, she couldn't help thinking, with a hint of sardonic humor, poor fighting master, forced to try to teach some basics to some ridiculous, clumsy fool. She's so awful, she sprawls flat on her face on the first try! Her attack missed him by a mile!

Nahali shook these thoughts hastily from her head, realizing how unworthy they were. Ke'sear had offered to spar with her, after all. Instead, she tried to unravel his advice. He kept using words she didn't recognize, like "dont" or "agian." Who knew Common was such a tricky language?

First, he had told her to try to use the reach of the weapon. She understood that her staff was much longer than his scimitar; that was the whole point of using it to support her while she walked. At the same time, she could hardly be expected to hold it at the very end all the time. Nahali shifted her hands along the length of the walking staff, experimenting with the balance and feel of it in her hands. She still felt so much more comfortable holding the staff about the center, even if it did mean the staff's reach on either side was barely half a foot longer than the scimitar's. Perhaps the lesson was simply to keep the staff's long reach in mind at all times and stay outside her opponent's range while still being able to hit. Yes, that seemed right.

Second, he had told her to keep her balance at all times. Nahali took care this time to plant her feet firmly and to test the sand for weaknesses. As she did so, she noticed that the wide stance with one foot forward actually worked better if she turned her body sideways, with her head still facing forward and her gaze fixed on Ke'sear. This way, her torso and lower body now faced left, while her feet and face still pointed forward. This also meant the tip of the walking staff now pointed naturally at Ke'sear. Before, the whole front of her body had been presented toward Ke'sear, with the staff parallel to her body and perpendicular to the way she was facing. As Nahali adjusted her stance, she felt more comfortable and centered. Now, she didn't have to swing the staff left or right to attack, but could simply jab with the tip one way or the other with smaller, more compact movements. This way, she also presented much less of her body as a target. Only the right side of her body was presented to Ke'sear, which was both harder for him to aim at and easier for her to defend if he tried.

Much better, Nahali thought, pleased with her deductions. She adjusted her grip again on the staff, shifting one hand a little closer to the front and one toward the back. Nahali marveled at the control this gave her to direct the tip of the staff left, right, forward and back.

By now, Ke'sear was tapping his foot impatiently in the sand. "All right, I'm ready," Nahali finally told him, after noticing his eagerness to resume.

This time, she decided to aim not at his head or body, but at his hands, which were gripping the scimitar. Surely, it would be a fine thing indeed if she could manage to disarm him. Nahali wondered if she should be careful to avoid jabbing too hard at his wrists, for fear of breaking the delicate yet crucial bones there and maiming him painfully, but Ke'sear had told her not to be afraid of hitting him. Nahali took a deep breath and drove the staff forward, keeping the tip low. The staff tip shot toward his hands, much faster than her heavy swing, but perhaps still not fast enough.

[Ke'sear]

Watching Nahali repostion herself Ke'sear noticed the new grip on her staff, this was new to him. He had never fought a person using this type of stance, or even seen for that matter. The staff tip shot in with alarming speed and precision, aimed for his blade hand. Sweat flew in all directions as Ke'sear threw up his arms and swung his hips back as far as he could and watched the edge ram into his midsection. Ke'sear was extremly careful not to let out any sign that she had hit him even though the spot burned like a hot iron.Moving back to a normal standing postion he took a large step back, bringing his scimitar to bear at an 45 degree angle away from his body, every muscle relaxed and his breathing deep and controlled.

With painfull slowness he started to circle to the left, forcing her to step backwards to keep facing him. With a jolt he attemped to knock the staff away from him while stepping in closely to Nahali. If he succeded then she would have no chace at hurting him, and with his left hand still free she would quickly realise that the fight would be over.

[Nahali]

Nahali was almost more surprised when she actually scored a hit on Ke'sear than when he managed to dodge the worst on her strike. That hit was more than she'd gotten in any of their previous sparring sessions! Ke'sear's expression barely changed, but she noticed he was moving a little slower than he had before. It wasn't much of a victory, but she couldn't help feeling a hint of pride nevertheless.

Carefully, Ke'sear backed away, raised his curving blade, and cautiously circled toward her right. Nahali shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to keep the tip of her staff pointed at him. With a quickness that startled her, he moved forward inside the reach of her staff and knocked it sharply to one side with a slash from his scimitar. His movement was like the spring of a crouching golden wolf toward its prey…perhaps a wounded wolf, but still a strong hunter nevertheless.

Taken off guard, Nahali tried to bring the staff between them and gain some breathing space for herself. But it was already too late. Her staff was pushed out of position, and Ke'sear was too close. His scimitar was already whistling as he swung it in a sweeping arc that ended at the side of her neck.

"Dead, again," he said. Having made his point, Ke'sear lowered the scimitar. "Don't forget that the reach of your staff has its drawbacks too. If someone moves inside that reach, you will have a very hard time defending yourself. So, make sure that doesn't happen."

Before she could help herself, Nahali made a face. "That's so much to…track? No, I mean to keep track of, all at once," she sighed.

The ghost of a smile flitted across Ke'sear's face. "That's why I'm teaching you, so that you get so used to keeping track of everything that you don't even think about it anymore. You did better today, though. I've never seen anyone use that stance while fighting with a staff before." He rubbed his midsection with a rueful air.

"Oh, you refer to when I was standing sideways?" Nahali asked, her face lighting up. "I only just came up with it now. I thought it would be good for hitting you. But now it seems I must find a way to not get hit myself while I use it…"

While they continued to chat this way, discussing the results of their sparring, Ke'sear sheathed his scimitar and nodded to her to show that the sparring session was over. It ended just in time, for the sound of a bell rang through the air, signaling the evening meal. There was a flurry of movement as everyone in the Tent finished whatever they were doing with commendable alacrity and hurried to the center of camp. Nahali and Ke'sear joined them, catching the scent of barley bread and spicy stew.

Before they could join her family's cookfire, Nahali turned back to Ke'sear. "Don't forget, tomorrow morning is another Shiber lesson. If we can continue sparring while we travel, I will keep teaching you Shiber. It's like…how did you say it? I will teach you so that you get so used to speaking the words until you no longer have to think about it." She grinned triumphantly.

[Ke'sear]

Grinning back, Ke'sear made a mad dash around tents and over supplies for the now delicious smelling food. Hopefully he could even get himself another cup of tea. Looking back, he spotted Nahali less then 25 meters behind him and gaining. Pouring on the speed as tents flew to his left and right, the people who saw must have thought him crazy. Sparing a look back, Nahali was nowhere to be seen, had he defeated her with that speed burst?

Ke'sear slowed to a trot, weaving in and out of the now more and more dense throng of people. Going around young and old alike who were calmly making thier way to the meal. The smell now permeated the air almost as if it were a solid force. Spotting the stew pot Ke'sear made his way over to it, Holding his bowl out like a greedy orphan and hoping that the women serving would give him more then everybody else. Grabbing a small chunk of barley bread and going to find his seat among the rest of the tent.

Walking over to the center of the camp, he thought "Haha! she stood no chance in that race." Then looking out over the seated people, he quickly spotted Nahali. Seated and halfway through her soup! With a look of amazment Ke'sear walked over to her. "Howd you do that!" Ke'sear was completly befudeled. He had had a pretty large lead, and he was sure that she didn't pass him anytime while he was in the crowd. Taking a seat next to Nahali he prepared himself for the embarssing story of how she had bested him in a fare footrace.

[Nahali]

Nahali gave Ke'sear a strange look as she dipped her own chunk of barley bread into her bowl of spicy vegetable stew and took a hearty bite. "How did I do what?"

Her confusion was heightened by the fact that she had no idea that Ke'sear had been intending to race her at all. From her perspective, the young man had returned her grin and then dashed away without a word as though a pack of tsanas were on his heels. Nahali had watched, bemused, as Ke'sear then ran around the entire circumference of the camp before making a beeline toward the cookfires. It was no wonder that she had arrived at the cookfires long before he had, even at a leisurely walk, while he sat here panting after his vigorous run.

Before Ke'sear could reply, the deep voice of Nahali's father interrupted. In courtesy to Ke'sear, he spoke in Common rather than Shiber. "Tonight's Masha will contain the telling of stories from our history," he announced. "We will begin with the tale of Biyram and Zariah's stay in the land of the Eypharians."

At the word "Masha," Nahali looked up in surprise and saw that many of the people gathered around the cookfires had already finished their evening meals. She and Ke'sear must have arrived late because of their sparring match. In silence, they devoured their supper while Nahali's father recounted the story of how the beauty of Biyram's wife Zariah had attracted the desire of a high-ranking Eypharian noble. Scheming to have her for himself, he invited Biyram's family to his palace intending to kill everyone but Zariah. Only the intervention of Yahal himself had saved them and gave Biyram's family a happy ending. Though she had heard the story before, Nahali listened to her father's retelling with anticipation and enjoyment.

He told other tales as Nahali and Ke'sear finished their stew and bread and sipped a few cups of strong Benshira tea. Ke'sear's liking for tea had ingratiated him with her Tent, especially the women who prided themselves on brewing the teas. He drank deeply of the steaming liquid as the night wore on and they listened to more stories from the Benshira's past. After her second cup, Nahali felt her eyelids drooping. It had been a long day, and she could feel herself drifting closer toward sleep.

[Ke'sear]

Ke'sear marveled at the clarity and depth at which the Benshira people told their stories, munching on his dinner all the while. stories were told with such detail it seemed he was actually there.

The food was delicious, a baked bread with a striking contrast of a rock-like outside to the tender inside along with a spicy stew with a rather strange meat in it. "Could be camel" he mused out loud "Or goat".

The moon grew brighter and brighter as it slowly climbed to its zenith and still the stories went on. Yet, Ke'sear did not even notice because he was so absorbed into the stories. And before long his eyelids were drooping, Ke'sear rolled off the bench, landing softly in the sand. He did not remember hitting the sand.