1st of Spring, 516AV Stormhold Citadel, Dyres District, First Tier Time of Day Not for the first time, Erick found himself staring up at his patron from his back, pain ebbing up and down his body. One thing that being a squire had taught Erick was the value of a high pain threshold, particularly if one was toiling under the tutelage of Eliza Goldmane. “You know, I’m fairly certain that I’ve seen Yukmen take to combat quicker than you, boy.” As it often was, the tone Sera Goldmane took was neither malicious or particularly sarcastic. She spoke in monotone, the Knight-Sergeant’s face deadpan as she took a step back, waiting patiently as Erick struggled to his feet. “Seen a lot of Yukmen, have you?” The young man spoke between labored breaths as he squared back up with his patron, bringing his shield and sword up as he did his best to mirror her stance, feet wide and knees bent. In particular, the Sera had drilled into him the importance of proper posture in a fight - back straight and shoulders level with the hips. “And I’m not a boy anymore.” “You’re a boy,” Eliza began before taking a bounding step toward Erick, batting straight thrust from the wooden long sword he wielded away with her shield, and in the same movement using the shield to knock the squire straight onto his back yet again. “Until you’ve earned your first sword.” She was referring to the rank pins true knights wore, of which Eliza Goldmane herself proudly wore two. The point of her practice blade hovered over the nape of Erick’s neck for a moment, before she relented, taking a step back once more to allow him to stand up. It was not without some effort, given the sheer weight of the steel that clung to his body, but he got back to his feet once more. Each time he had stood, the armor had felt heavier than the last time, and he gotten knocked down quite a few times today already. It felt as if small fires burned under his skin, and it was with a grunt that he managed to pull his arms back up, getting back into a ready stance. The Knight shook her head. “You need to get your shield up. It doesn’t do any good scraping against the damn ground.” Nodding, Erick managed to nudge his left arm up by a small amount, and the two armored figures began to encircle one another in slow, careful steps. He knew he had to keep moving at all times - sparring with his patron in the past had proven that if his feet stopped moving even a moment, she would make him pay for it. A moving target was harder to hit, after all. Erick tried to keep that in mind even as each movement he took pained the involved areas of his body. The first clash came quickly - the sharp packing noise echoing across the small training arena as the polished wooden surfaces of their training weapons connected. Erick pivoted his body to the side as he parried the blow, before swinging wildly back to the opposite side. With a flick of her wrist the blow glanced off Eliza’s shield, and Erick stumbled forward with the momentum, narrowly managing to bring his shield up in time to absorb a quick, vicious chain of quick straight cuts, banging against his shield like a gong. He was already reeling from the force of his missed swing, and after several blows to his shield, he once again fell to the ground, this time face-first. |