Closed [Patchwork Port] Swords Don't Float (Dexius)

[Aislyn Leavold]

The Patchwork Port
60th of Summer, 516 AV
Sunset

The more Aislyn had thought about it, the more indecisive she had grown about the decisions she had made ten days prior in a dark alley in the middle of the night with a man she knew nothing about. It could have ended worse, of course, but on the bright side, the man knew little enough that it was safe to meet him again. Not that such circumstances were up to pure chance, of course. She’d consciously thought about saying less, staying silent, allowing assumptions to tell the lies for her instead of spilling words that could be used against her. A lie was much easier to tell with no words at all, rather than too many.

But that hadn't stopped her from analyzing how it could have gone better. Just a tad bit of thinking. Not much else.

Thinking about what the right choice really was, if it was what her gut told her, what her mind told her, or perhaps what Ionu themself had in store for her. What it was she was meant to be doing, whether allies or enemies were more of a risk. Perhaps Thief was too coarse, or was Maya too kind? Was there a balance, or were opposites safer? A face could be good enough to fool, but a voice could be recognized. A personality could be recognized, too. But she was in control, was she not? Was there any reason why alliances could endanger Aislyn if she drew enough of a line between her and Maya? The illusion was the fire guard over the flame, was there a reason no one came close enough to burn? Maybe there was, perhaps not. Maybe it was just a case of pure, simple, detachment. A safety net. A roll of the dice that landed on a lack of friends but a host of acquaintances. An odd thing to think about, but nothing new; though it had never so bluntly come to the front of her mind as it had the night before. Perhaps enemies were safer than allies. Perhaps she was meant to be alone.
After all, some people just weren’t meant to be anything else.

Thief, for example. Thief was meant to be alone. Thief was not made to be liked. Thief was not even made to be noticed, just a shadow on a night that was kept an arm's distance away. Unfortunately, noticed was just what she had been. A man in a dark alley that noticed the shadow in the corner. A man who demanded a trade, and, infuriating as he was, proved useful. Information, and even more than that, knowledge. Far away places that once seemed insignificant, but now seemed closer than ever. Alvadas was not alone in this world, after all. It couldn’t hurt to know a bit about the other lands that surrounded her city of illusions.
But that all depended on how well today went.

The sunrise following the first meeting, Aislyn had followed the instructions she had been given. A sense of stubbornness followed her movements, convincing her the man wouldn’t show; he was just getting her to waste her mizas on useless scrap metal. He was pestering her, taking her for a fool. Why should she listen to him? For the long walk home, she’d argued to herself back and forth. But exhaustion eventually took over in the early bells, and almost as soon as Thief had melted into Maya with the rise of Syna in the sky, she had reasoned with herself. His banter was not pure folly. If he were to teach her, she’d need something to fight back with. They couldn’t spend the whole time passing one sword back and forth, after all. And besides, the price of a good sword mirrored the price of an good drawing. An elaborate work, granted. Half a fortnight of work, if she poured most every tick into it. Which, most of the time, she did. Work well worth the price of the weapon, should the investment pay off.

The sword was a rapier, of which Aislyn had inspected carefully. She knew nothing of swords, of course, but it didn’t hurt to at least appear attentive, so as not to be swindled out of her money. Cold iron, which, despite the price, seemed like a good investment considering the semi-recent events. And the smith had sold it well, too. Good, good quality, missus, I swears it. Stays sharp as long as it stays cold, and even sharper against them minions, you know. The ones of the dead, that don’t stay in the ground for long. You’ve seen ‘em to, ain’t you?
Aislyn hadn’t responded, simply counting out the mizas and leaving the smith without another word. But she left with what she had wanted, and now, nine rotations later, the weapon would go to use.

That was, if Dexius actually showed up.

Aislyn had been sitting below the pier now, stirring a spoon in a shallow bowl of soup she’d somehow decided it was a good idea to bring along. Eating it at home had certainly been an option, but she wouldn't want to be late, would she? As if such a thing mattered in Alvadas.
So she had arrived early, just enough out of sight so that being noticed was a rare thing, but not so much that she didn’t have a clear view of those that came and went. And she had sat, waiting. But of course, none of those that passed had been her spidery ‘friend’. Not that she cared how punctual the man was. The later he came, the more reasoning she had behind her hating him for it. And besides, the soup was decent. Traveller’s stock made an alright meal when one didn’t have the energy, nor skill, nor willpower to make anything worth eating, and it wasn’t half bad. Though granted, it wasn’t half good, either. But remembering to eat was a habit she needed to get into, and if food was easy to make, remembering to make it was easy as well.

Letting her gaze settle on the sea for a moment, Aislyn relaxed in the solitude until a smathering of footsteps brought her back to the present. Glancing up once again, she rolled out her shoulders as she found an unfortunately familiar figure pacing across the pier, sword easily noticed as it swung by his side.
Setting the spoon in the bowl and picking her sword up once again, Aislyn maneuvered herself as gracefully as possible back up to the pier. She'd need a sheath for this, eventually. It hasn't occurred to her at the time, but carrying a sword everywhere was rather inconvenient. She'd lost the use of one hand, not to mention it was bulky to swing around when climbing things. But it was doable.
Once on the pier, Aislyn adjusted the weapon so it stayed upright against her legs before turning her attention back to her bowl. Watching the opaque liquid swirl in no particular pattern as she stirred, Aislyn finally raised her voice, just loud enough to be heard.

”I can’t say I’m overjoyed at your presence,” she paused, raising her eyes from the bowl to the man, ”but you showed up.”

LedgerTraveller’s Stock - 3 GM
Rapier, Cold Iron - 60 GM

"Speech" - Thought

[Dexius]

Dex wandered through the streets of Alvadas towards his current destination, the port outside of the city. For the last couple of days he had wondered silently to himself why he had even offered to train the artist how to fight. Raimu, the woman who had quickly figured out just what to say to him to cause Dex to take on a more...spiteful attitude that night.

Regardless, Dex had given his word to the woman that he would help her learn to fight and his word was almost everything he had here in his new home. Still it bothered him that she almost seemed to be playing some sort of game with him. She was quite the dodgy type and would not give in easily to anything he wanted to know about her. In fact she tried very hard to deflect everything away from herself that day, words and wits, she could fight with those it seemed.

Perhaps Dex had overreacted to what she had said to him that night. He was not normally so rash with his words but the ones she spoke to him stung like venom. Words were definitely her weapon of choice, for now at least.

Those words mulled on in his mind for days on end after their first encounter. "And when did you kill her?" Six words that had triggered something inside him that didn't make him so much sad as it made him hateful towards the woman. And now here he was exiting the city to spend another night with a woman who might just try to kill him after all of this.

She might try to kill him, Dex didn't really know her after all. But he was not going to be the one to accidentally kill her if she decided to use the wrong choice of words tonight.

Earlier in the day Dex had stopped by the various shops around the city to find something very specific for this little training session of theirs. A pair of wooden training swords, both shaped and sized as if they were real rapiers were now in his possession.

At first he had thought to stop at the local carpentry shop to look for the wooden blades he needed, to hopefully not kill the woman with. Turns out though, that they have an agreement with the weapons shop in town to sell directly from that location. The man in the Wooden Wonders Workshop, who introduced himself as Ferny had given Dex some not so nice directions right back out the front door after asking for the training swords. "Nah nah nah!" The younger woodworker explained in a rather harsh tone while he rolled a few dice on the front desk. "We ain't selling those in our shop. Yuh going to have to go to the Isur man fer those. Now get out unless yuh need a boat."

So Dex trundled his way back into the city of illusions and aimlessly walked until Alvadas decided it wanted to drop him off outside the blacksmith shop. The Isur, Vacielli was a much more sociable and more importantly helpful man to him during his visit. The smith even allowed Dex to test the two swords on each other before making a purchase to test their quality. "One good sale is all you need to keep people coming back in for more." The Isur said with a smile on his face as he took the Symenestra's mizas. "Come back in any time you need something boy, I'd be happy to help."

Now though, he was unfortunately arriving at the docks connecting to Alvadas, the two wooden blades resting in the straps of his pack between it and he. Dex didn't take the opportunity to get out to the docks very often, in fact this would be the second time he had been here. The first time being earlier that day to locate the woodworking shop which was also out on the port. He walked across the pier, looking at all the various boats and their freight that were still being brought out of and being put into the ships on the dock.

His eyes locked to the setting sun which reflected beautifully off of the Suvan Sea in front of him. Dex had never been to the ocean before nor had he ever been in a body of water to swim either. The amount of water around made him feel a little more than sick, he really didn't feel like going for a bath in the liquid salt.

Continuing on until being interrupted by an annoyingly familiar voice, Dex stopped to make contact with the woman that would be Raimu. "I can't say I'm overjoyed at your presence, but you showed up." She was holding a bowl of what he could only assume was some sort of soup or stew and had a rapier resting against her leg.

Not exactly happy to see the woman either, Dex took a few steps to the edge of the pier and sat on the edge before responding to her. He was determined to watch the entire sunset here, where the reflection of the water looked like orange fire. "I can't say I am exactly thrilled to see you either. But my word is my word and that is all some of us have."

He took off his pack from his seated position and placed the two wooden swords down next to it. "Here, I brought these so hopefully we don't kill each other tonight. Though I'm not sure you would have a problem sticking that blade through me if you really wanted." Unweaving the scarf from around his neck Dex placed it in his pack before swinging his legs forward and back over the water. Sitting on the pier reminded him of when he was a child. He would climb whatever tree he could find outside of Kalinor and sit in the branches for hours, swinging his legs forward and back just like this. It almost made him forget that he had to spend the night with somebody who assumably hated him already.

"Come." Dex patted a spot on the pier next to him. "You're an artist...you can appreciate the beauty of a good sunset, can't you? Once it is done we can begin our work for tonight."

Purchase(2) Rapier, Wooden -10 GM

[Aislyn Leavold]

From the lower perspective, Aislyn hadn’t noticed the wooden shapes the man held. Swords, it seemed, or a crude attempt at creating some. They wouldn’t pierce cloth if struck straight through, from the look of them, nevermind flesh. Though it became quite apparent that was the exact intent. It had been something the illusionist had mulled over- just how badly had Dexius expected them to be hurt after this- but she had eventually decided she didn’t particularly care. He wasn’t exactly a terrible menace against her in physicality alone, though he did have a height advantage by a long shot. But that was why she was learning, wasn’t it?

In truth, she was a tad bit dismayed at the sight of the fake swords. She’d been promised blood, after all, and it couldn’t hurt to have some actual risk involved in any given circumstance. Though Aislyn quite enjoyed having all of her fingers attached to her body, and Dexius quite obviously outmatched her on this front...
Some risk probably could hurt. Quite a lot, actually.

”I won’t tell you you’re mistaken,” Not sure you would have a problem, of course, because she was enjoyed murder as a hobby. The fact that she had expressed interest in continuing to live proved so, obviously. ”but you misjudge me.”

There was quite a difference between a thief and a murderer, though some people lacked the ability to see so. After all, the world was not black and white. There was no good and bad; just a thousand shades of grey. Whether or not Dexius saw that was a different matter. A murderer was such a strong word, as well. There were animals that killed to eat, were each and every one of them a killer? Perhaps. But ‘murder’ carried an entire different connotation. It implied the action was purposeful, was intended. Death was the expected outcome, rather than a side effect of the situation. A terrible misunderstanding, really.

Letting her sentence remain in almost an unfinished state, Aislyn watched as the man undid the cloth tied around his neck. There was an odd moment of familiarity, that she hadn’t noticed the previous time they had met. The illusionist knew only one other person that would wear a scarf in the middle of summer, and if that situation had proved anything, it proved that Dexius had something to hide. Not necessarily about his neck- obviously, he had removed the cloth item already- but there was something more to it, certainly.

The spider’s next move, however, was something of a different nature. Instead of getting up to face her, he turned away. Looking off into the sunset, like some wise old man. Surely he thought himself as much. A wise old man looking off into the distance, contemplating existence as he meditated over the meaning of life. Appreciate the beauty of a good sunset. Sure. Easy.
Standing somewhat behind the man, Aislyn kept her head enough to stand. There was still a potent dislike of the man buried in the back of her mind, and she was most certainly above sitting beside him. But if he wanted to waste daylight, he could go right ahead. In the meantime, Aislyn took the opportunity to finish off what was left in the bowl. It left her no fuller than before, but at least she could rest assured she wouldn’t faint halfway through a fight.

As Syna dipped below the waters of the Suvan, the sky fluttered between colours before resting on a pale purple that would most definitely eventually fade to black. It was most definitely pretty, but most sunsets were. There were plenty of pretty things in life. Strong rainstorms, the crisp feeling of early morning, the feeling of solitude. Beautiful, on the other hand, was a word Aislyn used rarely.

”Now, are we ready to begin?”

Yes, she was an artist. Yes, she was capable of the appreciation of something pretty. She had drawn plenty sunsets in her life, painted a few too. Very few people took the time to stop looking at each other and start looking up- but this was not the time for such a thing. This was not the illusion for such a thing. Thief was not a being meant for the appreciation of art. To teach it was a struggle, to sit and watch it was even more so. It was unfortunate it had not been Maya to run into the man and his affinity for wasting time.
Perhaps Maya would have gotten along with him.

Throwing a glance over from the sky to the man in front of her, Aislyn thought about it for a moment.

No, Maya would have hated him as well.

"Speech" - Thought

[Dexius]

Dex continued to swing his feet over the edge of the pier as he looked down at the sea that glinted with life as the final moments of Syna's reign over the sky ended. He watched and listened to the water that gracefully crashed into the supports of the wooden structure he sat upon. It was almost euphoric to listen to the sound the sea made around him but alas the water would have to wait.

The swordsman rose from his position and collected both of the wooden swords before speaking again. "Perhaps I am mistaken. If I have misjudged you...then I suppose I will be the first to give way to apology." Dex took hold of what would be the blade of both of the training weapons and offered both ends to his opposite number. "Your choice then. And I apologize, maybe you don't want to kill me, not yet at least."

Did it really matter if she wanted to kill him? Perhaps the thing he needed most was a reason to live. Not dying to this woman appeared to be a fairly good reason to live.

After the woman made her choice of sword for the evening Dex firmly grasped the remaining one in his left hand. It had been some time since he practiced in any way with his opposite hand and now seemed about the right time to do so. His father had literally beaten it into him to be flexible enough to use both hands effectively in a fight and he was not going to let an advantage like that slip away because of sheer laziness.

Dex glanced at his pupil. The woman always seemed to be rough like stone. He wondered why she wanted to learn how to fight so badly. Perhaps he could garner that information tonight at least. "Now, before we begin anything. I want you to realize that combat is an art in a similar fashion to drawing or painting. Every stroke and every movement matters as much or as little as the next but error will lead to death and not just a ruined parchment."

Dex casually swung his wooden sword in a small 'X' shape before thrusting into its would be center. "Every detail is important. Height. Weight. These things will be different between every opponent and you should understand what advantages and disadvantages they bring. Height can bring valuable reach on your sword arm but can also slow how fast you can bring your weapon to bear, and you are also a bigger target to your opponent. Weight can bring the oomph you need to pressure against your opponent defenses but will slow body movements overall. We're both rather slim creatures so speed is our advantage here."

With his right hand Dex drew out his normal blade and held it out in front of him. "If you hadn't yet realized the rapier is not exactly the cleanest cutting sword out there. The blade is most certainly made to pierce your opponent rather than to cut him in twain. Quick strikes could make it so you might not even need to kill your target and to disarm him instead. But perhaps we'll get to that a little bit later."

The Symenestra sheathed his blade and stared the woman down for a few ticks. He had to know. What happened to this woman to cause her to take up a sword where most Alvads are happy to take up a paintbrush or a mug at the inn. It did not seem like she would be the kind of person to fight for the protection of others. In fact, she was easily the most selfish seeming person Dex had run into since arriving in Alvadas. "So now. Before I show you how to swing that sword of yours I think you are finally going to give me an answer to some questions. The same questions my father posed to me when I was young and wanted to follow in his footsteps. What do you fight for, Raimu? What drives you? Who do you seek protect other than yourself? What would you do to protect what you hold dearest?"

The swordsman held a serious face until all of his questions were answered. If she would not relent then he would go no further with this woman. Besides, it would be easier if she didn't know how to fight and they became enemies later down the road. Though he preferred not to make enemies it didn't hurt to have any possible advantages.

[Aislyn Leavold]

Setting the bowl down at the edge of the pier, Aislyn replaced her steel sword for the spider’s wooden one, passing it between her hands before settling on her left. Drawing was a very right-handed thing. Fighting was left handed. Of course, it hadn’t been left handed when she had fought as Maya, but Maya was not for fighting. Maya was for art, and such art was made with the right hand. As was everything else Maya did.

Observing the way Dexius moved, Aislyn attempted to mimic his stance. The sword felt clunky and slow, unnatural. Too big, too bulky, too wrong. But that would change. She’d learn. Somehow.
Combat is an art. Interesting. A similar thought to how she approached most situations. But his logic was strange. Perhaps it was because she herself was an artist, or perhaps it was because Aislyn simply didn’t like the man, something within her disagreed.

”But in drawing, a mistake can be an advantage,” mimicking his movements, Aislyn tried to get herself used to the heavier extension of her arm. She wasn’t as dramatic as to slash letters into the air, but she moved. A bit. ”What’s the point if everything is perfect? There’s no fun in that.” For some reason, the conversation felt reminiscent of her childhood. Fun. What a strange concept. It wasn’t fun to battle, but it was fun to win. Was there fun in danger, or just foolishness?
Staring down her sword, Aislyn found no answers.
The spider’s words made sense. She had always been small, always been outmuscled. But that meant she was used to it. Using speed, cunning; what advantages she had were always used to any extent. Every edge she could gain, she did, through any means necessary. Her illusionism, her demeanor. Her secrets, her strengths. Underestimation was a powerful tool, and one the illusionist favoured quite a bit. It would do no good to allow the enemy to be prepared.

A blade made to piece, not to destroy. That was certainly useful. It was easy to defeat and kill, but it was difficult to spare yet win. If you could hold your opponent at odds whilst avoiding harm coming upon yourself, that was a skill.
With her hands on either handle, Aislyn put the bladed edge to the ground, balancing both the real and the faux between her. If he wanted to talk so much before fighting, she might as well sheath her weapon as best she could. Which, of course, was unsheathed, just unpointed.

When Dexius requested the answer to questions, Aislyn easily felt the direction the conversation was going would not be in her favour. A curious man with curious questions, of which no distain he did not deserve. As he spoke, he provided her insight. His father, of course.

Arrogance often ran in families.

”A drive…” Aislyn could count the people she would go out of her way to protect on one hand, and even then she only used half her fingers. Who do you seek to protect other than yourself? Who had she protected, other than herself? Her mother, on almost every day of her life. The woman on the rooftop, once upon a time. And Phobius. Time and time again, Phobius.
Looking up at the man, she met his eye for the briefest of moments. She mentioned her faults to no one, and friendships were just weaknesses that were unfortunately common. Of such relationships Aislyn had few, and to let them be known was to publicize frailty. She would protect Alvadas, protect Ionu, protect the few she allowed herself to appreciate. But he didn't need to know that. ”No one.” Her gaze turned into a stare, as intense as she could make it. ”And nothing.”

She kept the stare until the moment had passed, her tone changing as the sun finally made its last goodbye. Her emphasis fell on the last syllables of her question, the repeated query becoming aggravating in the fact that it still had to be asked.

”May we begin?’

"Speech" - Thought

[Dexius]

Left or right hand? The Symenestra watched the woman toss the wooden sword back and forth between her hands before settling on her left hand. Strange. He was sure she had been using her right hand to draw back in the alley but it did not really matter. After all, he could just as easily change from one hand to the other so perhaps she was similar in handedness.

Raimu attempted to match his stance after the small display and he could already see the faults pouring from her footwork. A turned foot here and too much weight there could cause her balance to falter at an extreme moment. No, in fact it would cause her to lose her balance if she was not prepared to adjust. Even the extension of her arm along with her words were telling Dex that she perhaps was not taking this seriously so far.

The swordsman brought his wooden sword to bear against hers after she spoke about 'mistakes' and 'fun' in combat. He quickly pressed his dull blade down on his opponent's causing the tip of her weapon towards the ground before gently stepping in towards the woman. The tip of the Symenestra's blade whisked past Raimu's throat and kept going until about half of the blade's length had been used up. His voice was cold and dark, even more so than when the woman had decided to call him out on his friend's death. "Fun has no place in a real fight. You would by all rights be dead right now. Last time I checked being dead was not fun."

Dex took a few steps back away from the woman, his weapon was drawn back and placed over his shoulder and not a scratch was put on her. Not yet anyway. "You can decide to believe in whatever you desire about combat later but while you are under my tutelage you will understand the mortality of a blade to your throat." Surely she would lash out now. The woman did not seem to be one to take being put in her place very well.

No matter she did ask for it.

While her arrogance about the concept that fights to the death could be fun annoyed Dex slightly the fact that she also said she fought for nobody irked him even more so. Obviously she was lying. Alvadas did not seem to be the kind of place to live that required you to fight so there was a deeper meaning behind her desire for swordplay. Her stone gaze attempted to dig itself into Dex's skin but at this point it was to no avail.

Dex simply brought his weapon to bear once more and assumed a basic combat stance at Raimu's inquiry. "Hold your weapon firmly out in front of you. Keep your weight balanced between both of your legs while in a ready stance. And don't slouch it is bad for your back."

The Symenestra motioned to the woman with his blade that he was awaiting her first strike. No words were needed because they had already begun. Time to see how well the rat can bear it's fangs.

[Aislyn Leavold]

There were many things that bothered Aislyn. One such thing were things touching her neck. Especially sharp things. Though granted, a wooden sword wasn’t all that sharp, but the gesture quite obviously mimicked the extreme circumstance the Symenestra meant to convey. And such a circumstance most definitely fell under the list of things that bothered Aislyn. Also on that list was the man’s voice, fullstop. You would by all rights be dead. Oh, joyful day. Dira’s blissful embrace had come for her, at the end of a wooden stick.

”Perhaps, then, your metaphors are-” Pushing the blade away a comfortable distance away from her throat, Aislyn peered at the man with a more serious expression than she had held previously, ”-flawed.”

There were quite a few people Aislyn would bet had plenty of fun in a ‘real fight’. Some people found sitting in the same place for hours relaying thoughts onto a page through the tip of a charcoal stick ‘fun’. Some people found the thrill of near-death and battle rather enjoyable. Both could be ‘fun’. Both could be ‘serious’. He was in Alvadas, for Ionu’s sake. ‘Serious’ had every purpose and no purpose being there.
And Aislyn could be serious, Alvad or not.

With the temptation to swing at him with the fake sword she’d been so kindly given so suddenly appealing, Aislyn found herself thinking over just what that course of action would bring her. He’d demonstrated that he bested her in this particular combat, just as she had bested him in the creation of his peculiar key drawing. He had his talents. To challenge him in his prime wasn’t the brightest course of action. For the moment, it was his game. She’d change the rules whenever the rules needed changing, and for now, the rules were just fine. Frustrating, but fine. She’d have her control. Just not right now.

For now, the best she could do was respond to his taunts with a few of her own.

”I suppose you’re right. Fun isn’t commonly defined as death and murder and what carnage fighting may bring.” Adjusting herself as he directed, she eyed the man, ”Though some of us do seem to enjoy murder as a pastime.”

When his weapon was brought to face her again, Aislyn shifted her weight back and forth between legs, wondering what difference this made in battle. In a real battle, there wasn’t time to worry about what angle her blade was at, or which foot she supported her weight more on. In a real battle, all that mattered was survival. And instinct, usually. In a real battle, none of this mattered.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t sit through it, if only to get to what a ‘real battle’ really was.

Her weapon was in front of her. Her left foot was in front. She was balanced equally between feet, whatever difference that made. She was lowered to the ground, mimicking every detail she could find in the way Dexius held himself, in the way he moved. So she was supposed to attack? Wasn’t that a delight. There was no way she could triumph in the circumstance. She was untrained, unqualified, and amateurish compared to the Symenestra, no matter how much her spite wished her to be otherwise. She would attack, and again, he would counter her. He would, again, act like he’d somehow defeated her completely. Once again, he would gloat.

So her options were varied, but the outcome was all the same.

Moving slowly at first, Aislyn tried to parody the sudden quickness he had used. The closest thing to her was his wrist, which was quite obviously attached to the blade that posed the danger to her. Logically, in the ‘real battle’ Dexius seemed so fond of, if she achieved a blow to his wrist, he could no longer fight. If he could no longer fight, it didn’t matter how alive he was, he no longer posed a danger. There was no point going for a harder target if she didn’t rid herself of immediate danger first. If she hit his leg, he couldn’t run, yes, but then she’d expose herself, and he still had his hand attached to the sword that could then counter her in a rather deadly fashion.
But that was in a real battle.
This was not.

So, the wrist.

"Speech" - Thought

[Dexius]

"Some of us do what we have to, not what we want to." The grip Dex had on his wooden sword gradually increased, an internal indication to himself that he wanted nothing more than to strangle the women at that moment. A deep breath later and Dex relaxed himself and watched Raimu prepare herself for the small combat.

She was attempting at least to get a semblance of balance. A good start. Better than it was. He thought perhaps she would simply give up in this endeavor of swordsmanship but Dex quickly dismissed the idea. If anything the woman was persistent and was not likely to break after just a very short swings of her sword. It almost reminded him of himself as a child. Almost. Dex was not exactly a cruel individual especially not towards his trainer who also happened to be his father. That kind of attitude left his fragile body with more than a few broken bones over the years but sadly he did not have the flexibility to do that to Raimu.

Now she seemed ready though. Standing firm with her sword dominant side towards him in an eerie mirror of his own stance. Now in a lowered position she seemed even smaller given the height differential between the two fighters. Obviously outmatched in this regard she was still going to give it her all. Finally. As much as he hoped she would abandon, Dex was a little bit exhilarated now that she was committed. He was not exactly sure if it was the thought of showing up the woman or perhaps getting to see another side of her previously hidden behind wit and sarcasm but regardless he was happy to oblige the former if nothing else.

She moved rather slowly towards the Symenestra at first. Trying to find a hole in his defenses or just trying to find a place to start? He was after all, not going to be on full guard at least at the start. His sword hung at a small downward angle towards the ground which would give her easy leverage over it if she decided to attempt such a thing, he didn't think she would. Finally her attack came and a tad bit suddenly too. Good. He was hoping she would take a page out of the book he had laid out for her just moments before.

A curiosity though was the target of her attack, not at his main body mass but clearly aimed at his weapon arm. In theory this would be the ideal place to launch an attack. One successful strike to a sword arm would all but cripple an opponent leaving them easy prey for the rest of the fight. But it also one of the most easily defended parts of the body for obvious reasons. The main being the weapon need barely be moved to intercept such an attack. The attack came in as...something a little more stable than Dex initially thought it would be. But there was very little dexterity put into the strike it was almost just a lunging attack instead of a small strike.

Dex simply raised his wooden blade up towards the sky and took his opponent's weapon up with it. He probably wouldn't do such a blunt parry if this were a real fight but such is the luxury of training weapons. He simply kept both of the blades up in the air for a few moments, the length of his arms giving him all the control over the woman's sword from that angle unless she decided to drop it. Unfortunately though, this had the adverse effect of keeping both of the combatants rather close to each other, probably the closest they had been since they met. The woman was probably expecting some rather sarcastic response to her first real swing of the sword but she would be sadly mistaken.

Dex released the leverage he had over Raimu's weapon and took a step back from her. Not exactly in the mood to get punched in the face. Something he wouldn't doubt the woman would do to him. He simply sighed and tried to be as calm and informative as possible. "That was a fair first attempt. First thing I want you to work on though is your footwork. Try stepping in with your attacks and follow through. This will keep you in balance with yourself and your strikes. Everything to learn right now is all about form."

Dex positioned himself back into a ready stance in preparation for her next attempt. "Whenever you are ready. Don't make it overly complicated. Step in strike and step out. Perhaps this will allow you to see how swordplay is akin to art." The Symenestra bowed his head slightly to indicate he was prepared for her next attack.

[Aislyn Leavold]

So the wrist didn’t work.
Unfortunately, Aislyn hadn’t, in fact, found the greatest place to attack ever known to a novice sword wielder. In fact, she may have found the worst. Or perhaps the man was just expecting her. Either way, her expectations were not left unfulfilled. Attack, counter, defeat. But, to her great surprise, no taunt. With the momentum of her attack, she was brought forward by her opponent’s sliding parry, the wooden blades not quite as gliding smooth as the metal counterpart, but the effect was the same. Her hand was put into an awkward position, in danger of being twisted far enough so as to drop her weapon. And what was she to do without a weapon? If she were taller, she would almost have the gait to parry his… parry. But she didn’t. What she did have, was the ability to move under him.

Aislyn had absolutely no idea what she was doing with a sword. That much was true. Aislyn also had absolutely no idea what she was doing with her body. But she had the common knowledge that if you kicked a man in the kneecap hard enough the kneecap bent the way it wasn’t supposed to bend. Or she could stomp on his toes, take him by surprise. Or…

For a moment, Aislyn was too distracted with looking down at her opportunities to look up at the most pressing issue at hand. When she did, the woman found herself far closer to the Symenestra man than she would have liked. She could hear his breath, see the peculiar expression in his eyes. Use the freearm, shove him back. Or grab the sword arm, gain control of the situation. That would work, wouldn’t it? Or perhaps it wouldn’t.
Perhaps all her plans would fail, and she simply wasn’t made out to be a fighter. That was always a possibility. But not one Aislyn was ready to accept quite yet. But of course, she also wasn’t quite ready to turn a fake fight into a real one.

Besides, she had barely learnt anything yet. Bending a man’s leg in the wrong direction, intentionally or otherwise, might disable a man, but also didn’t tend to make you very popular amongst said man. On top of that, whether or not she would have the strength to even carry such an attack out was a different story entirely. She had no proper training of the unarmed sort, her only experience in combat came from what talent she had for the crossbow. And there was no crossbow, now.
Still, that didn’t stop her from thinking.

Aislyn had very few advantages in battle. Very, very few. So she had to maximize what advantages she could, and minimize what she couldn’t fix. If she lacked in skill with a blade, she didn’t have to fight entirely with a blade. All her eggs in one basket just ended with a lot of broken eggs. Failsafes never hurt anyone.
Of course, Aislyn hadn’t forgotten a failsafe. But she didn’t need a failsafe right now. In fact, the man appeared to be backing off. Already, he was turning the moment into a teaching one. Footwork. Follow through. Balance. Was she to think about this in the middle of a fight? A scowl almost worked its way onto her features, but she forced herself to remain neutral. For the moment, she would humour him. Stepping in with an attack. So she was to move with her feet, rather than her whole body. Easy enough.

Caught up in the fixing of her feet, Aislyn almost found the situation tolerable. If she positioned herself as if she were not learning from an intolerable Symenestra man, but instead simply learning, it wasn’t so hard to keep looking at the likes of such a disagreeable being. But she wasn’t concentrating on that for the moment. She was concentrating on adapting to the strange feeling of waving around an exaggerated stick as if it would actually harm someone. Small steps. Small movements. Small attacks. Fast attacks. Presumably deadly attacks.

In the hope of making this particular skirmish last longer, Aislyn played it a tad bit safer than she had before. Stepping forward made it easy to step back. Stepping back made it easy to dodge. Dodging made it easier to not get hit. Not getting hit made it easier to avoid puncturing some vital organ and bleeding to death before she saw thirty years of age. The woman almost thought it would be easier to have Dexius attack first, allowing her a chance to figure out just how a first attack was done. Then she could mimic it, perhaps parry something in the meantime. Give herself time to adapt. But from his stance, it was quite obvious the man was not going to allow her to pass up her first-blow opportunity. And what an opportunity it was. In the right hands, at least.
Aislyn’s hands just happened to be the wrong hands.

Aiming more for the blade than the body, Aislyn decided she needed a window of opportunity before she did anything too drastic. What a window of opportunity was, she didn’t know. But surely she’d find out. Eventually. For now, she’d get his blade away from her, he’d attack, then she’d parry and attack back. Or something like that.
Detailed courses of action very rarely went according to plan.

Attack, parry, counterattack. Yes, that seemed right. An art form, he had said. Perhaps a dance, though even that was a stretch. This was more of a game than anything else, and none too far off a game of chance. The winner just got lucky. Aislyn had never been very fortunate with luck.

Positioning herself as Dexius had instructed, she attempted to put her plan into action. Push the blade away with hers. Make sure she didn’t let herself be twisted up the way she had before. Counter something. Attack at some point.
What could go wrong?

"Speech" - Thought

[Dexius]

Teaching the woman how to properly wield a sword was probably going to be one of the most frustrating things Dex had ever done in his time away from home. After the clash between the wooden blades Raimu did not seem interested in asking questions or in fact saying anything at all. He wasn't exactly sure if it was just because she hated him or because she was a rather quiet individual. Although their previous encounter slightly nullified the latter idea as she was quick to ask questions of all sorts. The woman was...strange to Dex. She always seemed uneasy and calculated like something was going to creep up on her and ruin her life in a heartbeat.

In a city like Alvadas, Dex always thought he stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the population. The people always seemed so happy go lucky praising Ionu's name in the streets in various forms. Dex was, for the most part a rather quiet individual compared to other resident Alvads and was not exactly involved in the spectacles in the streets or able to embrace the artistic essence of the city very easily.

Most of that stemmed from him being new to the rather interesting city. But Raimu, she seemed to be even further separated than he was. A silent and very self centered individual at least when compared to himself. It seemed like it was going to be hard to break through all that to get some semblance of work done with the woman.

The Symenestra gripped his wooden blade a little tighter than he would normally allow himself. It was odd to wield the thing. It felt extremely clunky hold and even more so to strike with. He was used to the smooth feeling and balance of his normal blade as opposed to the rough and unwieldy wooden sword.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity but was in reality only a few ticks the woman was prepared to continue. Silent but looking determined. He would probably never understand what was going on in her head, even if he wanted to, which he wasn't sure was something he exactly wanted anyway.

Raimu did seem like she was absorbing some information at least as she prepared her next attack. Her feet were not as unorganized as they were previously, favoring balance now instead of comfort and habit. Weapon prepared in a much more obvious fashion. A few more passing ticks and it finally happened.

The woman's blade came in towards him in what he could finally recognize as a novice attack. The feet, the blade, the body. They were now working more or less as a single unit albeit a little clunky and unwieldy but that was to be expected. A quick learner perhaps? Surely it wasn't his teaching, he wasn't exactly a master swordsman or teacher.

Regardless, the Symenestra prepared for her strike the moment he saw Raimu's feet step forward. The attack was poised to push his wooden blade away and then perhaps strike again after. Clever. She was already thinking of basic strategies to break and attack through guard.

Dex took a step back as he let the woman's blade push his to the side. Figuring he should probably let the woman get in some kind of strikes without him immediately countering. He was correct in his assumption of her tactic. The tip of her wooden sword veering from his own towards his chest. Another step back would take him safely out of reach of the weapon and allow him to readjust his own sword.

"Much better than before. I hope you've been asking questions with your eyes though. Put your guard up, do your best. It wont hurt if I hit you, much."

Now recovered, he planned to copy and reapply her own tactic against her, see if she could see it coming and react accordingly. Though he wasn't exactly sure what to expect seeing as he hadn't even taken so much as a strike in her direction as of yet. Hopefully she picked up something at this point.

Countering after her two pronged strike ended, Dex initiated the same attack exactly the same way she had previously done at around the same speed as her. Strike the blade away, step in, strike forward, and hope she could copy his parry. If not, well she was about to get a little pressure on her chest.

Oh well, he got worse when he was growing up with his father. Time to toughen up.