Closed Combat Lessons.

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Not found on any map, Endrykas is a large migrating tent city wherein the horseclans of Cyphrus gather to trade and exchange information. [Lore]

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Combat Lessons.

Postby Maore on September 29th, 2017, 10:36 am

45 A U T U M N 517


It wasn't often that Ciraaci came out to spend time in a Diamond clan pavilion, but rare those though visits were, she came with the intention to learn from them-- and to learn well. The ethaefal came garbed in clothing she considered suited to the warmth of the season, her dress style little more than a linen tunic tied around the waist with a lavender scarf and fitted leggings she found comfortable for riding. Knee-high riding boots, her blonde hair braided in an artful mound atop her head, and accompanied by her horse- which she rode upon as proudly as she could.

Riding was unspeakably uncomfortable, indicating to Ciraaci that she was well out of practice with doing so. Her posture felt wrong, and the Aeres felt ungainly and awkward, although Ciraaci couldn't say she blamed the horse for the discomfort. It was her fault for being the least Drykas inhabitant of Endrykas and for binding herself to her feet.

With her discomfort at its peak, Ciraaci finally dismounted her horse and offered a sympathetic pat to the beast's shoulder. She chose to walk the rest of the distance to her destination, the Warstorm pavilion, and left her horse amongst the others belonging to its family members, employees and customers with the implicit trust that if she ran off, it wouldn't be far.

Ciraaci now entered it, and though she'd been diminished in the stature of her appearance the moment she departed the sunlight, she stood no lesser in the tent, her crowned head turning this-way and that, taking in the sights either out of curiosity for what it was like to be in a new pavilion, or simply because she wasn't entirely certain of where she ought to be or go. Eventually approached by a man wearing the Ruby colours, Ciraaci relaxed the tension in her posture and offered the lingering warmth of a blossoming smile; she welcomed any assistance offered her.

"You've come for training?" The man asked, his hands working through his curiosity wonder question, signs she read easily although her own hands quickly moved in response, signing out wordless expectation to begin. "I am," she said. "I want to learn how to fight with my hands." Embarrassment uncertainty and a question of her own.

"You're in luck," the man said, flashing a toothy grin of his own. He had a golden complexion, making the smile bright in comparison to the colour of him in the pavilion's shade. "We have an unarmed instructor. Come with me," he gestured, and led her outdoors and around to the backside of the pavilion where bodies moved in their own individual fights. She paused for a moment to take in the sight, briefly intimidated by men and women clashing with spears and practising their archery before she gathered a handle over the trepidation and caught up with the instructor.

"Samuel," the man said, indicating the instructor in question, his Pavi suddenly more pronounced, as if he were talking to a man near completely unfamiliar to the language. His hand signs became more pronounced then, too, a fact which amused Ciraaci into the very edge of a slight smile. "You're free? She would like to learn to fight unarmed."
Last edited by Maore on March 5th, 2018, 12:40 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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combat lessons.

Postby Samuel Longwell on October 5th, 2017, 1:40 pm

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Samuel was glad to have the opportunity to train. So much of his time was spent teaching others and he felt he was getting out of practice in terms of his own combat abilities, so when he got the chance to practise he took advantage of it. His tangle with the Yukmen had proved to him that he still had plenty to improve upon. He held a short wooden blade in his hand, a simple training substitute for a dagger. It was not his preferred weapon, he'd much rather be wielding a longsword and shield, but he had been in enough difficult situations to realise the benefits of knowing how to handle a smaller blade. When engaged in a fight on the floor, the length of his regular weapon was a hindrance rather than a help. In such a scramble a dagger was far more useful. And so it was that the large warrior had decided to occasionally train with such a weapon.

He stood alone next to a dummy, gripping the wooden dagger in his right hand and holding up his left hand balled into a fist. He didn't know much about how to use a dagger, and nearly everything he did know had come from sporadic occasions he had been forced to use it in order to stay alive. But now was his chance to make sure that he was better prepared next time. He stepped forward, swaying to the side to dodge an imaginary strike and then slashed out against the dummy. The impact jarred him, the dagger twisting in his grip and falling to the ground. With a glance round to make sure no one had seen him, Samuel stooped down and picked the practice blade back up. He grimaced, then reset back into his original stance. He swung with his left fist, rapping his knuckles against the wood before stabbing with the blade. This time he managed to keep a hold of the weapon, so he stepped back and began again. Dodge, slash, punch, stab. After he had repeated the sequence several times he realised he had unconsciously settled into a drill. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued to repeat the motions.

The exercise continued until he heard his name called, then he turned to look at the two approaching him. Sweat dripped down his forehead, which he wiped off and took a look at the pair. The woman was tall, perhaps some would even describe her as an imposing figure. But most unique were the two horns that curled out from under her fair hair. Samuel had never really interacted with an Ethaefal, but he had heard that they were religious in some way. He nodded when asked if he was free, then gestured for the woman to follow him as he turned away. He had come to the conclusion that none of the other instructors really enjoyed teaching unarmed combat, so even though he had little formal training himself he often found himself taking lessons. He would prefer to only teach those skills he was more proficient with, but he would do as he was told for the good of Endrykas. If they believed he was best put use like this then he would not argue. He couldn't help wondering if would be different if he was Drykas though.

Once they'd reached an area where they would have some room to spar, Samuel turned back to the woman. “I am Samuel, I will teach you.” His hands shaped question. “What is your name? How much have you fought before?” He smiled encouragingly, noticing that she seemed slightly overwhelmed by all the fighting going on around them. “We will start off seeing what you can do. Just throw a few punches. I'll block, but not attack back.” He lifted his hands up ready to defend and signalled for his student to begin.


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combat lessons.

Postby Maore on October 5th, 2017, 2:49 pm

Following the man, Ciraaci kept close behind him and took in the sights and sounds as they progressed to a place with more room to work. The man who'd brought her to her instructor departed and left the two of them alone, but she hardly even noticed. As Pavi was as visual as it was verbal, she'd had her eyes fixed on the man she was to interact with in anticipations of questions. So, it was when he spoke to her that she cracked the expression she'd held and offered the edge of a smile.

"I am Ciraaci Mourningstar," she said, fanning her signs through greeting, pleased, excited as she worded out a proper greeting. "Thank you for having me here." Her Pavi was fast, practised and easy.

Given the request to throw a couple punches at the man, Ciraaci took up a stance that felt fairly uncomfortable, though she thought it was grounded and solid, and gauged him for a long moment.

And then, she struck out with her left fist, having balled her hands into hard stones in the moment looking at him, and aiming for his face. She wasn't quite willing to hit him, though, and that came with the half-assed slap of her knuckles. The ethaefal, knowing she'd done that poorly, laughed at it, it was so silly.

"Sorry, sorry," she said. "I haven't fought before with my hands. I can use a spear, but this feels strange to me." She shrugged her sloping shoulders, though didn't let loose her stance more than that, because she thought she was doing it right. Ciraaci intended to learn from Samuel, and offered another couple of swings at him... these few with more intention behind them.
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combat lessons.

Postby Samuel Longwell on October 8th, 2017, 7:51 pm

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Samuel returned the greeting with his hands, not quite catching her last sign but he didn't say anything as he didn't want to admit his lack of knowledge. Ciraaci was polite, a small smile creasing her face. He hoped that she would be an enthusiastic student, but so far he couldn't tell. Her first punch was lazy, very little momentum behind the blow. He pushed her fist to the side and raised his eyebrows.

Her apology came quickly, but Samuel was quick to interrupt. “No problem, everyone needs to start to learn somewhere.” Don't worry. “Some spear fighting will help, builds strength that is good for unarmed.” Try again.

Her next punches were better, fists swinging towards the large man. He stepped to the side, deflecting the first blow, then let her second through to thump against his leather armour. Her height lent power to her blows, knocking a little breath from his lungs even though she had little experience of fighting. He nodded his approval. Her second attempt had been much better. As long as she kept that level of effort up, she would make good progress during the lesson.

“Okay,” he said, “there is much we can do to improve your fighting. Next we will do drills, good to get used to fighting.” He signed follow. “We go to the dummy, just over here.”

Samuel led his student to the dummy he had been using. The wooden figure was roughly in the shape of a man. A large block of wood represented the torso, with a rounded piece on top that resembled a head. He grabbed a nearby piece of leather armour and slung it over the dummy. It would allow them to strike it harder without damaging their hands. He turned to Ciraaci, and signed watch purposefully.

He lifted his hands into a guard position, bouncing slightly on his feet. He jabbed with his right hand, following immediately with his left. He brought his hands back quickly after each strike, keeping his guard intact. He then circled slightly to his left and repeated the two blows. Another step to the left, another two jabs. Then he stepped away from the dummy and turned to his student with a smile.

“You do this now, full circle to left then full circle right.” Samuel pointed to the dummy. “No rush, take your time. After your attack, your hands must be ready to defend. Start now, I will watch.” He gave her another small smile and signed begin.


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