[Flashback] The Sharpest of Memories - II

[Kavala]

Timestamp: Fall 503 AV
Location: Southern Sea Of Grass
Purpose: Dagger Training
Status: Closed/Flashback

Eachann continued to drill Kavala over the next weeks. They started with the basics which he constantly made her review – stances, grips, blocks, and even parries. A parry was a simple move really designed to not stop the full force of an attack but to deflect it neatly. Daggers were good at that. Kavala found that blocking with them was all but impossible for a Konti. She didn’t have the body strength or the bulk to make her blocks effective. And even though she learned the basic blocks, it still didn’t require her much in the way of effort to parry and so she focused on that.

The lesson was very clear. A dagger could be used to parry a thrust, slice, cut, or backslash directly but it was risky. There were complex mathematics involved, and one had to teach ones mind to do them on the fly or the risk of having a blade at full speed cut through a dagger’s defense was just too great. The blade alignment and timing needed to be exactly right to deflect the blow. Thrusts were easier. One just had to plan a singular movement, and the most complex issue one had to deal with was disengage around an opponent’s weapon with a semi-circular movement around the dagger because of its shorter length.

Kavala practiced this for hours, her sister running her katana and feinting thrusts at her. Circle and break off, circle and break off. Eachann directed the dance. It was nice to have help, someone willing to be a guinea pig to train off of. Vanator’s new wife, Tamar, was more than willing to help too and had offered to spar with Kavala later in her training. Folks wandered by, stayed for a while, and then wandered away. Weapons training was old hat around the Pavilion, the only difference was who was training in it. Kavala, timid and a little spoiled, was such an unlikely target that it did cause folks to speculate. Eachann held no mercy though. The lessons continued.

“Your dagger is always defensive against a blade if you remember a few things, Kavala.” He’d said. “Close a line of attack so your opponent doesn’t have any room and fewer options. It eliminates the ability for someone with a weapon of reach to feint easily.” Kavala nodded, and he continued. “Daggers, especially when wielded with both hands, can parry a thrust in one hand and undercut and take out an opponent in another. With a dagger, used against a sword, it allows you to control your opponents sword after a parry so they cannot continue their attack, but must disengage and re-attack giving you time to be ready to defend again.” He said.

It was easier said than done.

The basic principle was to dart in, interfere in their space, and prevent them from having the room to swing their sword back at you offensively. Keeping one on the defensive, however, was harder than it seemed. For that, hours of practice had to happen against the real thing – swords of all sorts. Kavala matched up with her sister’s katana, her brother’s long sword, and various clansmen and clanswomen’s assorted weapons. There were a few, like spears, that were all but impossible to defend against with a weapon the size of a dagger. For that, she had throwing daggers. She’d trained hard with them as well. In fact, she threw so many times that her hands blistered, bled, and then callused over. Sometimes they hurt so bad before the calluses formed that she had to soak them in salted water and coat them with herbs she mixed herself.

Comfrey, sage, and a rare flower called Candlevine really did the trick. They needed to be boiled down in tea, strained, and added with a little wax from bees to thicken. The resulting creams tended to sooth the angry nerves and reclaim the use of one’s hands for the future. Kavala felt like she made it by the gallons. If it wasn’t going on her hands, it was going on her rump where Akela or Vanator knocked her down. Especially Akela, enjoyed doing the knocking way too much.

[Kavala]

Sometimes though, her body, especially her hands, hurt to the point she wished someone would just cut off her hands and be done with it. During these times her father often swallowed his sternness and let her off to relax for the day. Cream or no cream, sometimes training just took its toll and the trainee just really needed to relax.

In those times Kavala turned to her herbalism and medicine and really made the most of her breaks. Candlevine was hard to find, so she had to gather it in measure whenever she could find it. It grew in watering holes and along small streams that crisscrossed the sea of grass. It formed roots that looked a lot like irises but that then sprouted vines that climbed to the sky with flowers that had a faint bio luminescence to them which coupled with their elongated appearance had a striking resemblance to candles. Kavala often rode out, exploring the streams they crossed, and looked for these remarkable plants to harvest for her aches and pains.

But those breaks were short lived. Eachann was always around, it seemed, ready to give her yet another lesson. He always had rules for her, and in a peaceful morning after one of her longer breaks, he showed up while she was helping to cook breakfast. She wasn’t surprised, after all. Once Eachann decided something, like that his youngest daughter needed to learn a weapon, it was decided. And after that he ruthlessly pursued her to get what he wanted accomplished. And that goal, it seemed, was to have Kavala decent at a weapon. Akela claimed it was hopeless and Kavala herself believed it as well. But Vanator’s wife, Tamar always had faith and constantly encouraged her strange Konti sister-in-law.

As time passed, Eachann’s lessons grew harder. He started delivering serious blows to Kavala and teaching her things she shouldn’t have to learn. Every Drykas had to learn how to fall from a horse. It was the very first lesson children learned in fact, though it often wasn’t a pleasant one. If one knew how to safely fall, one was less apt to be afraid to ride. The same principle rang true of daggers. One had to learn how to take a cut or else everything was often fear driven instead of skill drive. That Kavala was a healer helped her tremendously in this. Eachann taught her daughter how to take blows not knowing that in the future, this training very well might save her life and her very sanity.

“Kavala. It’s something of a rule that everything we do with a dagger is something you should be prepared to do with your hand. Another way to say this is… don’t use your dagger where you wouldn’t use your hand.” He said. Then he went on to elaborate. “If someone swings a fist at you… would you block it with your hand, catching it? No. You couldn’t because the force of the fist would be too great with your slight frame. Would you dodge it? Yes. Absolutely. If someone went to slap you, would you try to dodge it? Not necessarily. A slap is a different means of delivery so there’s a good chance you can block or in the case of weapons speak, parry the slap because the force is different. Listen girl, you can parry thrusts with a dagger but if you wanted to parry a cut with a dagger you would have to step in and take his wrist. This is dangerous and changes the action from weapons to hand to hand combat. You aren’t trained for that nor are you ready… so don’t do it. Dodge first, block if you can, and deflect if the deflection is easy. If you are going to get cut, sometimes you have to sacrifice yourself to get close enough to win a fight and say slide a dagger into someone’s heart or beneath their ribs.” He added, demonstrating the difference. “And to take those chances, you really need to be prepared to take cuts if you have too.” He said. “Don’t parry a swinging sword, but say a zith swinging its claws you can handle. Don’t hesitate.” He emphasized.

[Kavala]

And with that, Eachann took the rest of the day making attacks on Kavala with various weapons and cutting her just enough that she stopped being so afraid of the blade and would move in when the time was right in order to take a chance to get close enough to kill. Kavala made some wrong choices, and then gradually started making the correct choices, knowing when to sacrifice to get closer in order to win.

She also learned about killing. It seemed her father had left standing orders that any zith attacks where zith were brought down the creatures were to be left alive. One, a rather feral male, was brought before him wounded but alive and overall healthy. Eachann cut off the creature’s wings brutally, without mercy, and then blinded it neatly. Then once it was properly subdued, he called for Kavala and laid his own dagger in her hand. She could barely stand before it with the gnosis mark on her ankle blazing her need to heal it. With the bloody stumps of wings and eye sockets were eyes were, Kavala stared in horror.

She didn’t want to do what her father had asked of her. But she was faced with a choice. She couldn’t heal the creature, not with her abilities, and even blinded the thing was dangerous. Zith wrecked havoc on the Drykas. They always had. People she knew died from their raids. People gathered around now would most likely die in the future, at least one or two of them falling prey to the zith. Kavala stared at the dagger and then at her father, tears wielding up in her eyes.

“You must know what it’s like Kavala. Killing is not easy. It’s neither good for the soul nor good for the heart, but it is a fact of life and one that needs to be done. Killing an animal will not teach you this lesson because food is food and you already understand that. This is survival, Kavala, and this creature suffers. End that suffering. It will stand here untouched by all us until you yourself do the deed, by my orders. The longer you take to decide, the longer you prolong its suffering. No one will touch it. Its life and its return to Caiyha is all in your hands.” Kavala trembled, a terrible weight welled up in her heart. The need to heal the zith burned through her causing her to break out into an immediate sweat. The dagger in her hands felt like a lead weight, twenty pounds instead of its slim barely there weight. Eachann stood there sternly. His voice was a warning… “Kavala… do this.”

She suddenly gripped the dagger and moved forward, the creature hearing her motions growled at her hissed, and suddenly started cursing her. Its arms swung wickedly, unbound, as it searched for her with its claws, not willing, even after its torture, to give up its life so easily. Kavala knew she had to be quick, and darted forward, resolve filling her. She kept the proper grip on the dagger, ducked under what appeared to be a punch randomly thrown into the darkness before the now-blind creature, and swerved to avoid another swipe of claws by its right hand.

Then, eyes on its breastbone, she tightened her grip on the dagger and with one quick helpless motion, trust it forward and up, angling the blade so it would slide between the ribs and up under the tissue there into its heart. Her thrust was brutal, fast, and well calculated. She wanted no mistakes knowing that killing the creature, putting it out of its miserable state, would alleviate the burn she felt – the compulsion – to heal. After all, death was a respite and the ultimate healing of the soul. Bodies wore out, life wasn’t stolen longer than it wanted to linger. The Zith was a victim in all of it though, and Kavala knew it. It was just doing what it wanted too and what came naturally. She didn’t’ blame it, not really, for how successful it was. She did blame herself though, the instant the blade slid deep and the creature jerked in surprise. It didn’t seem to be in pain though as its eye sockets, now empty, widened and its breast rose one last time in a gasp of surprise.

The thing died with Kavala’s hands still on the dagger hilt, trying to twist it deep into the creature’s heart. The Konti healer sobbed as she yanked the dagger free, blood spewing out of the wound and coating the healer. She cried out, dropped the dagger, and took several steps backwards. Trembling she watched in horror as the zith fell, crumpling to the ground dead. Kavala kept backing up, shaking her bloody had and wiping at the blood on her face as if in denial of it happening. She needed Akela, who would indeed say she was crazy crying over something that would eat her or worse. Her father as right to insist she see death and to give her a chance to completely fall apart. It was better here, in the Denusk encampment than out in the wilds or in a battlefield.

[Kavala]

Each step Kavala took backwards drove her deeper into the shock of what she’d done. It was Vanator’s wife, Tamar, who in the end comforted her. The woman with the shock of red hair put her arm around Kavala, squeezed her gently, and in the quiet strength of her voice simply said… “Death isn’t an easy thing to look at is it? It is an ugly brutal thing, and always better if it is someone else and not you. It’s also a hard thing to deal out, even when it’s done in kindness. Don’t let it eat at your heart, girl. There’s always going to be someone stronger and faster than you… someone who’ll do to you what you just did to that Zith. Your father is right in showing you though, what death looks like first hand when it comes by your hand, even if his ways are as subtle as a glassbeak with red plumage.” The woman said, seemingly materializing from between tents.

Tamar seemed to have that knack, always appearing when needed, quietly interjecting even when she was still a stranger with the family having only newly married Vanator. The killing of a Zith should have been something horrible to Tamar, but her gentle eyes seemed to understand. There was pity in them for the Zith and compassion as well for Kavala, having been forced to do what her father asked.

Kavala didn’t know her well yet, but had liked Vanator’s pick for a first wife. Tamar frowned at the Denusk Ankal, as if she was disproving what he was doing, and gently steered Kavala away from the corpse and even from the bloody dagger. It was her father’s anyhow, not weighted for her hand and far too big for her. Tamar took her into the pavilion and fixed her some tea. They talked a long time about nothing, and finally in the morning, Kavala’s new sister-in-law promised to meet her for more sparing. Tamar’s thing wasn’t exactly fighting hand to hand or with daggers. Instead, she was an herbalist and a fine one at that. Kavala figured, through natural progression of her always walking around with a boline or some other sort of harvesting blade she’d decided to take up dagger to defend herself.

So along with Tamar being Kavala’s teacher in herbs, she became her sparring partner in dagger.

And in doing so, Kavala learned finesse that Eachann had a hard time teaching her. Another woman, one proficient, helped tremendously in teaching Kavala the rhythm and rhyme of the legwork involved in a good dagger fight. She also schooled Kavala in the elegance it took to wield one without having ones actions look to forceful or negated.

[Kavala]

The first thing Tamar did was take Kavala back to the basics. She was quick to point out the advantages a dagger offered. "Kavala, dagger is really a bridge weapon. It offers connectivity between unarmed combat and armed combat. It can be both melee and ranged, which gives it a significant advantage in terms of flexibility and utility. Daggers can be carried in multiples, unlike swords, so you don't ever have to worry about throwing your only means of defense away from you. And frankly if the smith knows what hes doing making them, you can have an incredible weapon. They range from being incredibly inexpensive like a sharpened stone knife, to perfectly balanced and made of Izurdian steel. What you want is something in between, balanced just for your hand and designed with a very light hilt and small guard so you can both throw and melee with the same weapon." Kavala nodded, understanding this.

"I think this is one of the reasons father is making me learn Dagger. He sees my small size and knows unlike Akela, I'd never make it in the world with a sword. She sleeps with hers, but I just don't have that much love for them." Kavala said smiling affectionately.

"It's alright." Tamar said. "If you were raised on Mura, you'd most likely be trained in Suvai. But I suspect suvai are inferior to actual daggers if one gives it some thought. Their advantage is that they are poisonous to everyone but a Konti. However, being bone, they break easier than metal and everyone knows poison is easy to come by so you can always coat your daggers with them... or a paralytic or any sort of philtered substance." Kavala nodded. "Very true, Tamar." Her sister-in-law nodded.

"Now. Show me what you've learned." Kavala obliged her, going through her most basic moves. She reviewed her 90 Degree Upthrust, Vertical Slash, Horizontal Slash, Block, Parry, Forward Stab, Backwards Stab, Basic Throws, and both the forward and reverse grips she knew. Tamar nodded, pleased.

"Alright, in the morning we'll get started on sparring outright. All this learning will get you only so far. You need to put it into practice repeatedly until its habit. The same goes with throwing the weapon. Every day, for a hundred times, you need to be out here working on your accuracy and range. Practice makes perfect, but unless you get off your butt and practice, it won't happen." Kavala nodded, ready to get to work. Since Tamar was willing to help, she was definitely willing to put in the time.

[Gillar]

Another well written and enjoyable thread. This one shows more overall character development than the last while slightly less focus on the dagger training. I particularly enjoyed the internal conflict over killing the Zith. Awarded is the following: Dagger 5 Medicine 2 Herbalism 2 Lore: Parrying with a Dagger Lore: Konti have Difficulties Blocking in Combat Lore: Thrusting with a Dagger Lore: Defending with a Dagger Against Other Blades Lore: Dagger Dueling Against Live Opponents Lore: Treating Callouses and Hand Cramps with Comfrey, Sage and Candlewine Lore: Locating Candlevine in the Wild Lore: Taking Hits and Enduring the Pain of Dagger Combat Training Lore: Do with a Dagger what you would do with your Hand Lore: Killing a Wounded and Bound Zith Lore: The Pain of Killing Against Your Will Lore: Knowing What Death Looks Like First Hand Lore: Advantages of Using a Suvai over a Traditional Dagger