Solo [Kendoka Sasaran ] Fill Your Hands

[Razkar]

30th Day of Winter, 512AV

The Myrian opened the double doors and the sounds of combat assaulted him. But it was not the desperate, bloody violence of mortal battle. He knew that sound: metal on flesh and armor made a very different sound. It was the high crack of wood on wood, the lower thunk of wood on flesh when a student moved a little too slow.

Student being the operative word. Here was "a place of learning", as its master had told Razkar the first time he had visited it.

Mizra Aqdas was striding among the sea of whirling, sparring figures that danced around the mat-covered floor. The Kendoka Sasaran was more alive than usual that day, the walls and floors barely visible under jerking and dodging feet. But the gigantic Akalak certainly noticed the new arrival, and walked over with that feline grace that always amazed the Myrian.

So huge, he thought as the warrior-teacher stood before him, and so smooth in his movements. Amazing...

"Razkar."

"Master Aqdas."

The two men bowed slightly, exchanging the respect expected in this place of learning. The old Akalak's eyes brimmed with curiosity and slight amusement as he regarded the Myrian. The so-called savage had almost become a regular as the Sasaran, and for all the rumor buzzing around him, Mizra had only ever found him to be polite, driven and honorable.

And hungry, he added silently, hungry to learn, to hone, to train and to master... but to what end? And do you want to aid in that quest...?

"What will it be today? Gladius? Ax?"

"Both." Razkar said with a slight smile, patting both the weapons at his belt. "At same time."

Mizra's eyebrows shot upwards and he nodded slowly, eyes glittering again.

"Ah... dual-wielding. I wondered when you would seek that particular discipline."

"You expect?"

"I have known many Myrians to use such form. Your people aren't really comfortable with shields or armor. Better to have a weapon in both hands, is that not so?"

Razkar smiled again, remembering his mother and father, his clan elders, his trainers and superiors in the Taloba army. He could count the ones that used shields with the fingers on one hand. The rest always favored two swords, two axes, two maces...

"Is better for us."

"And you are sure it would be better for you?"

"I think so."

Mizra smiled broader now. This was what he truly lived for now, after centuries of combat. He could not easily keep count of all the battles and duels he had fought, though the faces of all those he had slain were burned into his mind. But never had he found the satisfaction that he gained with challenging ignorance, in himself or in others, facing it and battling it with new thoughts, new ideas, and battering it down so truth and understanding shone in its place.

"Then you shall train, Razkar. You will learn... and judge for yourself."

Razkar bowed again, and readied himself.

[Razkar]

"The key in using both hands in combat is just that: using both, and in unison. Some are born with the gift of using both hands equally well, but most are not. You have a dominant-"

"Dominant?"

"Main. Your strong hand."

"Oh."

"Dominant hand, and your weaker hand. You must learn to parry and strike with either hand equally. This takes much time, and much practice, so we shall start simply. Ready?"

Razkar was in no frame to argue. His cloak had since been hung, along with his genuine weapons. He held a gladius in his right and hand ax in his left, both wooden training weapons, clad only in his loincloth. Thanks to the damnable Cyphrus Winter, he'd been forced to wear breeches, his tunic, even his armor! So many layers and all necessary!

Honestly, he didn't understand how these Akalaks didn't just freeze solid for the entire season.

He nodded slowly, taking in every word. If Mizra Aqdas himself was deigning to instruct him, then he would not argue nor quibble. The massive Akalak has a pair of wooden lakan in his hands, curved blades resting in his palms as if they'd grown out of them. He jerked one of them towards Razkar.

"First of all, your strong hand is your right, yes?"

"Yes."

"Then that's where your ax should be."

Then he moved with that same composed, smooth, utterly accomplished way that made Razkar envious just looking at him. His left hand moved up, lakan held vertical, right hand cocked back.

"In this exercise, we shall deal with a simple block-and-blow. You block-" he gripped the lakan in his left hand tighter as he spoke, holding it as if intercepting an enemy's blow "-with your weaker hand, and you strike-" the right hand lakan swept in in a blur but stopped as sharply as if it had hit flesh "-with your dominant hand. The gladius is more suited to blocking that the hand ax, since the ax has a wooden handle, which can be broken. It's also a better weapon for striking."

Razkar watched as Mizra went through the same motions again, switching his weapons without looking down. His teacher's logic was sound, after all. The gladius was mostly metal, and much better for blocking. He could do the same with the ax, but with a sharp enough blade and enough force behind it, an enemy could just cleave it in two. And, just as Mizra said, a blow from an ax could cause much more damage.

He looked down, noting the Akalak's stance, too. Legs slightly bent, left forward, right back, easily capable of swaying or sidestepping forwards, back or to the sides. He mirrored the stance, settling into it as Mizra lowered his lakans.

"Now you."

Two simple movements. That was the theory, anyway. Razkar jerked his arm up, blocking the blow from his invisible attacker, then followed it up with a sweeping horizontal strike with his ax. If he had been in battle, the ax would have buried itself in his enemy's side, leaving him open to-

-he struck diagonally with his gladius, moving it from its blocking position in front and up to chop downwards, catching his invisible enemy right in the neck and shoulder. Any normal fighter would be stunned and agonized with the ax in his side, leaving him open to the strike, so-

"No."

Razkar's eyes widened and he saw Mizra shaking his head, eyes stern.

"You're getting ahead of yourself."

"How?"

"Exactly as I say, Razkar. Two moves. Block and blow. The rest will follow once you have mastered this."

Razkar made a mistake: he snorted. Derision. One of the few things that truly angered a teacher: contempt for knowledge imparted.

"Is not hard to make moves. Just make third move, finish off enemy."

Silence. Stony, icy silence. Then Mizra cocked a wry eyebrow and raised his weapons.

"Let's see."

Razkar held up his wooden weapons and when the first blow came in, he jerked up his arm and blocked the blow, arm stinging at the impact. Before the reverberation had stopped he swung horizontally towards Mizra's side-

-only for the lakan in his left hand to block the blow easily-

-and in a beige blur, the blocked lakan broke free and slammed down, stopping as it parted the air right above Razkar's head.

"What if your enemy had a shield, Razkar?" Mizra said after a few sweaty moments. "What if he, too, wielded to weapons? Or his armor stopped your blow? What then?"

Razkar tried to think beyond the man who was two feet and a hundred and fifty pounds larger than him with a thick wooden weapon suspended a hairsbreadth from his skull. Even other students had paused in their sparring, staring at the Myrian who'd been stupid enough to question the Master of the Kendoka Sasaran. Finally he swallowed and managed to mutter.

"I... I lose."

"No. You die, Razkar. Substantially worse, I think." The wooden lakan was slowly pulled away, and Mizra stepped back. "We start simple. I can tell by your block that your left hand is weaker. You have not used it much outside of unarmed combat, have you? No, I didn't think so."

Razkar finally composed himself and settled back into the ready stance: feet properly positioned, training weapons held straight but down, ready for movement in any direction. Mizra crossed his huge arms, lakans pressed to his side, and repeated: "Now you."

Razkar did as he was told. Repeatedly.

[Razkar]

Razkar would think later that Mizra's teaching style was very similar to Kevlar's, though the elder Akalak teacher would probably hate the comparison. He and the Blue Bull brawler were polar opposites.

Mizra trained warriors, and believed that without wisdom, fighting skill was worthless. Kevlar was a scrapper, a bottle covey who fought solely for pay and probably didn't put too high a price on wisdom. But both men knew that repetition was the key to all good training.

Mizra circled him in slow, steady strides as he repeated the two-move rhythm over and over until he could do it with his eyes closed. Legs bent, his left arm jerked up and out over and over, grip firm, gladius slightly angled to deflect a blow. Then his right arm swung in a flat arc, burying itself in invisible ribs or love handles. He was getting the hang of-

"Switch hands."

This time, Razkar didn't question. He already knew the logic behind this. Using both hands wasn't the challenge here: using both hands equally well was. He switched gladius and ax and... and...

"Harder, isn't it?" Mizra said, watching the Myrian struggling to block with his right instead of his left. "But you must learn to use both hands for both moves. A real fight is rarely so polite as to allow you to choose the weapons and hands you wish. Nor is your enemy certain to favor his right or left. So you must prepare for both."

The Akalak swept forwards and pointed down with his lakan at Razar's feet.

"Switch your feet, too. Right foot forward, left at the back, the mirror opposite of what you were doing before. Now, again!"

Razkar's muscles began to burn as he went through the motions yet again. Arms bent, close, then jerked outwards to block or swinging out and inwards to blow. Every dozen repetitions Mizra woud have him switch, endlessly circling, watching, correctly, never taking his eyes off his student. Finally he stopped in front of Razkar, pausing but a moment...

Then his right arm swung out in a blur-

-but Razkar's arm had already moved up of its own accord to block it-

-right arm swinging out at the same time, aimed squarely at the Akalak's ribs-

-only for the second lakan to block it-

-Razkar's leg lashed out-

-but Mizra's was faster.

Razkar grunted as his teacher delivered a masterful short kick to his shin. He wobbled on one leg and staggered backwards, welcoming it, buying him time to breath, keeping his wooden weapons up. But there was no retaliation. Mizra just stood there, arms and weapons across again, nodding slowly.

"Much better," he said, and then turned on his heel, not waiting to see if his student would follow, striding towards the tangle of training students, "Now lets see how you fare with the rest..."

Razkar half-walked and half-limped behind him.

Continued here

[Traverse]

Thread Awards! Razkar : Experience: Dual Wield 2 Gladius 1 Hand Axe 1 Observation 2 Lore: Mizra Aqdas: Large as a Giant, Graceful as a Panther Everywhere is Cold Compared to Taloba Start Simple, Don't Die Additional Notes : Notes in the following thread. Questions, Concerns? PM me and we'll be to the bottom of it. Safe Travels!