[Solo] Training

[Navrin Stormwalker]

16-17 Spring 512

"Khopesh eh? It's not often I see one of those come through here," the Akalak said.

"Nothing better from the back of a horse," Navrin said absentmindedly. His eyes were drifting around the Kendoka Sasaran. Most of the students were already at their lessons, battling back and forth across the open room. It was organized chaos at its finest.

"How much experience have you got with it?" the Akalak asked, looming over Navrin's head. He'd always found the great blue men slightly intimidating, and the weapons master was no exception. He didn't know what it was about them that got his back up; all he knew was that there was something about them that made him uncomfortable. It could have been the blue skin or the dual personalities, but he doubted it. In all honesty, it was probably the height. Navrin could remember only a few times in his adult life being the shortest man in the room. This was one of those times.

"I trained with my mother when I was younger," Navrin responded. The Akalak motioned for him to take the khopesh off of his belt and hand it over. He did so. The great blue hand closed around the hilt and the Akalak raised the blade to his eyes. He examined it in silence for a few moments, occasionally muttering something to himself. Navrin didn't mind being ignored. He used it as an opportunity to observe the fighters. He tried to spot those who were behind the class and those who were ahead. The slackers seemed to stick to the periphery, keeping their backs to the open air so as not to run into anyone and have to engage in a duel. The star pupils were in the center of the fray, shouting at the top of their lungs as they battled their numerous opponents.

"It's a good weapon," the Akalak declared. Navrin grunted noncommittally. He knew it was a good weapon. Had he wanted to know whether or not his khopesh was well made, he would've stayed in Endrykas. The Akalak went to a chest by the wall and dug out a crude wooden replica. He set the real khopesh down nearby and tossed the practice sword to Navrin. He grabbed it from the air and gave it a few practice swings. It was a little heavier than the actual blade and the slightest bit off-balance but it would do. He turned to face the Akalak.

"We don't have anyone who specializes in the khopesh. It's a rare weapon. I've only seen a handful in my long years," the Akalak said. Navrin nodded and turned to face the melee. He was half a foot shorter than the shortest fighter but that didn't worry him. The Akalak may have been tall, but they were lanky. He had one of the widest sets of shoulders of all the fighters. He was planning an attack when he felt the weapons masters hands on his shoulders. He thought he heard the man wish him luck before he stumbled into one of the students. The man, or boy, he was never sure how old the Akalaks were turned quickly, whipping his wooden longsword down at Navrin's legs. He blocked it with the khopesh and regained a steady footing.

Navrin had his back to empty space which he used to his advantage, driving at the Akalak in front of him and attempting to push him backwards into the fray. They matched blows almost perfectly for several seconds, sweat dripping down their brows and teeth set in half-grimaces. Navrin loved the feel of combat. He loved to feel his strength matched up against another. The Akalak snarled and jerked his blade up, using the tip to knock Navrin's khopesh out of the way. He brought the wooden blade in toward Navrin's ribs but the Drykas jumped forward. His momentum set him down in front of the Akalak, and the two were almost touching. Both swords were useless at such a close range, so the two resorted to fists.

Navrin knew that he couldn't match an Akalak in unarmed combat for long, so he resorted to a staple of survival skills passed down through the ages. He slammed his knee up into his opponents groin. The Akalak's eyes grew wide and he dropped to his knees. Navrin used the brief opportunity to raise the hilt of the khopesh and slam it into the man's forehead. His eyes rolled up and he slouched sideways, fingers loosening around the hilt of his practice sword. Navrin smiled and attempted to get his breath, only to have another Akalak come slamming into him. The force of the body spun him around and when he got his feet back under him he was facing a new opponent.

This one was wielding a spear, moving the tip back and forth. He was trying to distract Navrin with the motion, like a cobra facing down a field mouse. Navrin ignored the waving tip, focusing instead on the muscles in the Akalak's arms. His mother had taught him to watch for the twitches that would signal imminent action. As if thinking about it were enough, the Akalak shot the spear forward. Navrin managed to deflect the tip away from his body, taking the the blow high on his left arm. He gritted his teeth against the pain. He wrapped his arm around the shaft of the spear and slammed the khopesh into his unprotected face. The Akalak attempted to block the blows with his free hand. Navrin redoubled his efforts and smashed through the Akalak's guard. His last blow clipped the spearman above the eye and sent him to the floor. He relased his grip on the spear and moved to turn before being bowled over.

Above him stood a dark purple Akalak with a wooden axe. He brought the axe down quickly and Navrin deflected the blow. They went on like this for several seconds; the axe-wielding Akalak doing his best to slip through Navrin's defenses. Each blow made the Drykas' arm feel numb and he was nearly blind with sweat. The Akalak saw this and began swinging with a desperate fervor. Finally, his efforts met with results. The axe bounced off of Navrin's fingers an he released the hilt of his blade with a yelp. The Akalak grinned triumphantly and raised his axe above his head.

Navrin looked around desperately, trying to find some way out of his current predicament. Salvation came in a pair of blue legs near his head. He reached back and grabbed them, jerking as soon as his fingers found purchase. The owner of the legs tumbled backwards and crashed into the axe-bearing Akalak who was midway through his down stroke. The two went down in a tange of arms and legs as Navrin reached over and grabbed his khopesh. He grimaced at the pain in his fingers. His nails would all be black in the morning. Of that much he was sure.

He stood up and turned, finding himself confronted by two Akalaks. Each wielded a pair of lakan. Navrin sighed. His shoulders were sore and his breath was coming in ragged gasps. Neither of the Akalaks looked winded in the slightest. Around the room, the rest of the students sat -in various stages of consciousness- and watched. Even the weapons master looked on with a curious eye.

Navrin kept his eyes focused on the two fighters in front of him as he backed away, pressing himself against one of the columns that held the building up. That way neither of them would be able to get behind him. He doubted that it would prove much help, but it was better than nothing. Any port in a storm. He kept his khopesh out in front of him and took a deep breath to stop the blade from shaking. Were this real combat he knew that he wouldn't be able to survive for longer than a few minutes. As it were, he'd probably just end up unconscious. The two warriors began to advance upon him, spreading out slightly. They would attack from both sides.

He knew that he wouldn't be able to beat them both off. He made a mental note to invest in a shield. His mother had always used one, and while Navrin had secretly believed it to be the tool of a woman that didn't stop him from wishing for one now. He'd probably be able to block some of the blows with his blade, but doing so would leave him vulnerable on the opposite side. He grimaced at the process.

The Akalaks charged simultaneously, swinging their wooden blades in tandem. Navrin managed to get his khopesh up in time to block the blows coming from his right. As he'd expected, the Akalak on his left took advantage of the distraction and slammed his blades into Navrin's unprotected ribs. It went on like this for several minutes; the air filled with the sounds of wood clacking on wood and flesh. Navrin knew he was beaten, but he was much too proud to yield. Instead, he blocked the blows he could and absorbed the ones that he couldn't. He fought defensively; he was too tired to go on the offensive.

In the end, it wasn't the Akalaks that brought him down. While attempting to avoid a lakan breaking his jaw he jerked his head back and into the column that he'd been using for protection. The world swam lazily in front of him as he toppled forward, landing face first between his assailants. He tried to lock his elbows and push himself up but he couldn't quite manage it. His body was too heavy. He allowed his eyes to close and collapsed to the ground. Unconsciousness claimed him shortly after.

---

"Wake up Drykas."

He groaned and opened his eyes. The Akalak who'd taken his khopesh was standing over him, bucket of water in hand. He smiled and sat it down, offering Navrin a hand. Navrin took it gratefully and let the Akalak pull him to his feet. His head was pounding. He touched it with his hand and pulled away bloody fingers.

"I have to say I've never seen anyone go down quite like that," the Akalak said, chuckling.

"I imagine I might be the first," Navrin said, wiping his hand on his pants. The Akalak handed him his khopesh and he strapped it onto his belt. It felt better than the wooden replica.

"First here. That's for sure. You did well for yourself. Most humans don't last that long, even in the novice class."

"Novice class?" Navrin said, disbelief tinging his voice.

"Novice class. I expect to see you back. Keep training like you did today and you'll be in the intermediate class in no time. After that, well, we'll see if you haven't gotten yourself killed.

The Akalak laughed. Navrin groaned inwardly and shook the big man's hand before heading back to the stables to try and get some rest.

[Navrin Stormwalker]

The next day he returned to the pavilion bearing a steel shield. He'd bought it from an old refugee who'd told him that he had no more use for it. Navrin had examined it for a while, trying to gauge whether or not it would get in his way on the back of a horse. It was bigger than a buckler, but considerably smaller than the few tower shields he'd seen in his travels. It offered a good balance between protection and mobility, and he'd gladly paid the man the full price. It felt awkward strapped on his back -an entirely unfamiliar weight- but he imagined the feeling would pass as his body adjusted. He was sure that it would feel even stranger in the heat of battle, but that would pass as well. His father had always told him of the value of practice and it was a lesson he'd taken to heart at a young age.

"A shield this time eh?" The Akalak master asked. Navrin grunted in response. He was too sore for idle chit-chat. He was covered in bruises and scabs, and the back of his head throbbed every time he bent over. It made him want to vomit. The Akalak laughed and clapped him on the shoulder; making Navrin grit his teeth in pain.

"Sore? I'd imagine you would be after the thrashing you took yesterday. Those two'll be in the intermediate class before the end of Spring. You mark my words."

"Everyone starts somewhere," Navrin said, stretching his tired muscles and cracking his back. He loosened up to avoid spraining his already overworked muscles. He couldn't afford to injure himself, or the cold trails would grow even colder.

"Very true. I'm surprised you're back so soon. You humans aren't quite as hardy as the Akalaks. Normally those of your kind who train here take a week off before they return," the Akalak said, leaning on one of the columns.

"I'd rather get it over with," Navrin said, shrugging. He didn't have time to let his muscles rest. He had to push himself as hard as he could in order to best the assassins that had taken his family. His mother had been an expert fighter -and his brother hadn't been half-bad himself, though he'd gotten rusty over the years- but that hadn't saved them from having their throats opened up. They'd put up a good fight - he'd seen the aftermath- but that hadn't saved them. Navrin was left wondering who had the martial prowess to sneak into a Drykas camp and do murder on an entire pavilion. He doubted they'd worked alone. He couldn't fathom it all being the work of one person.

"Drykas!" The weapons master snapped. Navrin jerked back into the present. He had been lost in his thoughts, and the Akalak had been carrying on a one-sided conversation. The Akalak was looking at him expectantly. Navrin raised an eyebrow.

"I said: do you plan on training with real blades today? Give me your equipment so you can get started."

Navrin nodded and handed his khopesh and new shield to the looming Akalak. He disappeared for a moment and returned with the crude wooden khopesh and a wooden shield roughly the size of Navrin's own. He slid the straps onto his left arm and tested his range of motion. This shield was lighter than its steel counterpart, but Navrin figured his muscles would learn to compensate. For now though, he just needed to learn the basics so he didn't get himself killed. He rolled his head on his neck and hefted the shield before stepping into the melee. He spotted the two who had thrashed him so mercilessly the day before, standing back to back and fending off a crowd of their fellow students.

On the outskirts of the circle was an Akalak who was shorter than the others, standing only a few inches taller than Navrin himself. He was jabbing a short spear into the crowd, and whether he was trying to get at the pair in the center or just score a few cheap shots Navrin couldn't tell. It didn't matter either way because he was distracted enough to not notice Navrin sizing him up. He charged at the indigo Akalak, shield raised in front of him like a personal battering ram, bellowing from the deepest pits of his lungs. The Akalak turned at the last second, trying to throw himself out of the way before the Drykas stampeded over him. He was partially successful. Instead of taking the full brunt of Navrin's charge, he was clipped and sent spinning, keeping his feet with a supreme effort of will.

Navrin turned to face him after the charge, keeping his shield up like he'd seen his mother do when he was a child. The Akalak approached him warily, moving so as to keep his right side away from Navrin's shield. The Drykas noted this as the Akalak pounced, thrusting the spear forward. Navrin caught the spear in the center of his shield. He considered a counterattack, but he didn't have the reach. He'd have to get inside the Akalak's spear if he wanted to be the victor. The Akalak came again, swinging the spear around and bringing it in on the opposite side. Navrin deflected the blow with the khopesh and tried to hop forward. The shield on his left arm slowed him down though -he'd forgotten about the limitations it posed- and he missed his window. He cursed under his breath and the Akalak threw himself forward again.

The spear came darting forward, slipping past Navrin's inexperienced shield arm and nearly coming to rest on his chest. He chided himself mentally for allowing the blow to come so far unimpeded and then struck, jerking the shield to the right with a grunt and snapping the haft of the practice spear. He pulled the shield back to the left, slamming the wood into the indigo body of the Akalak and knocking him to the ground. With a grunt he swung the khopesh down and the Akalak's eyes closed for the rest of the fight. Navrin turned back to the melee in time to see another opponent stepping out of the circle.

Whereas his first fight of the day had been the smallest Akalak he'd ever seen, this man was by far the largest. His skin was a deep navy blue, almost black, and it stretched tightly across his bulging muslces. He stood a good two feet taller than Navrin, and in his hands was a massive wooden hammer. He let out a roar and stepped forward, swinging the hammer as he did so. Navrin was reminded for a second of the dream he'd had the night he met Zulrav, and the knight who was actually his father. He'd used a hammer like this. All thoughts disappeared when the hammer slammed into Navrin's shield. He lost all of the feeling in his forearm, and it was all he could do to get the shield up again to block another blow. The numbness crept up further.

Navrin jumped out of the way of the next swing, barely avoiding the massive mallet-head at the end of the shaft. He had felt the wind ruffle the flyaway hairs at his hairline. One inch closer and he doubted he would've remembered the rest of the week. He studied the dark blue face of his Akalak assailant, trying to see the signs of weariness. There was sweat trickling down his forehead but that was the only sign that Navrin could make out. He didn't even sound like he was breathing hard. He just came on, like a force with no purpose but to destroy and Navrin kept jumping backwards or throwing his lifeless shield arm up to absorb the blows.

Just when he thought that he wouldn't be able to keep up with the Akalak's blows any longer he saw his opportunity. The giant Akalak overextended himself as Navrin hopped backwards. He swung the curved end of the khopesh, not at the man's body but at the end of the hammer where the head connected to the shaft. He jerked backwards as hard as he could and the hammer slid out of the Akalak's sweaty grasp. The hammer bounced across the floor of the pavilion and out of reach, but that by no means meant the Akalak was done. He lunged forward and swung his fists in a mighty hammer-blow. Navrin blocked them with his shield, grimacing at the sound of bare flesh on wood and slashed at the Akalak's legs. He danced away from the blows with unexpected agility.

For the first time in their encounter Navrin went on the offensive. He stepped forward, caught another one of the Akalak's fists on his shield, and lashed out with his khopesh. This time he caught his opponent in the chest, but he didn't even seem to notice Navrin's blow. He gritted his teeth and took another step forward, blocking a low kick this time with his shield. He looked up just in time to see the Akalak's fist sailing over the top of his lowered shield and to curse himself for falling for the feint. He felt the fist crash into his face and heard his nose break. He took an unsteady step backwards and blinked to clear the spots from his eyes. He could taste the blood flowing out of his nostrils, and he could feel where his nose no longer sat straight on his face.

The Akalak smiled and threw himself forward, seeking to topple Navrin with one fell swoop. The Drykas jerked his shield out reflexively, swinging it in hopes of catching the Akalak unaware. Once again, luck seemed to be on his side. The shield slammed into the Akalak's extended fist; two opposed forces meeting one another in the middle. Navrin felt the Akalak's hand give and heard him howl in pain. Now was his only time to strike. If he squandered this opportunity, the dark blue behemoth would rally. He didn't have enough energy to deal with another of the juggernaut's offensive forays, so he threw himself forward with reckless abandon. He wielded the khopesh and shield wildly, hacking and slamming in tandem. Oftentimes his blows went wide, but what he lacked in accuracy he made up for in ferocity.

He felt the blow that finally took the Akalak out of commission. An attempted shield bash had been blocked by the big man's forearms and Navrin had followed it up with a lightning quick khopesh strike that caught the Akalak in the mouth. Navrin had watched as his lips split apart and his eyes had rolled up in his head before he'd tumbled backwards. Without a second glance, he turned to face the few remaining combatants still standing. One of the lakan wielders from his first day remained upright, fighting off a pair of swordsman by himself. He made to step toward the group before being bowled over by an unseen adversary.

The next thing he knew, he was on his back with his shield covering his head as a sky-blue Akalak rained sword strokes down upon him. His arm -which had slowly been recovering feeling- was numb again, and it was all he could do to keep his shield up.

[Navrin Stormwalker]

The blows kept falling and the numbness continued its slow march up Navrin's arm, settling in to his shoulder like an unwelcome house guest. He could see over the very top of his shield. The Akalak had taken a two-handed grip on the hilt of his sword and was slamming it down again and again, trying his hardest to break through Navrin's defenses. He could feel that the Akalak's victory was at hand, and if he had to keep his shield up for more than a moment longer he'd have to submit. He could feel his stomach turning at the thought of surrender, so he began to desperately seek a way out of his current predicament.

He glanced down and saw the Akalak's legs, one on each side of his body. Using the last bit of strength in his left arm, he stabled his shield and pushed it up, giving himself just enough room to maneuver. He swung the hooked end of his blade around the Akalak's leg and pulled hard. The Akalak yelped in surprise and toppled backwards. Had he not been wielding his blade with both hands he may have been able to catch himself, but as it were he hit the ground hard. Navrin flung himself to his knees and slammed his shield down onto the sky blue midsection in front of him, pinning the sword between them. He swung the khopesh down ruthlessly and split the Akalak's eyebrow, grinning savagely as the man's eyes closed.

He stood shakily, left arm burning. His nose was still leaking blood and much of it had dried around his mouth. His entire body was on fire from his previous exertions, and the new bumps and bruises that he'd received. He wasn't done though. Across the pavilion the Akaklak with the two lakan was still standing. He'd been watching Navrin with interest, perhaps waiting for another chance to duel him one on one. Navrin held up a hand and tried to get his breath. The Akalak nodded. He understood the signal. Navrin breathed deeply and wiped the blood from his mouth. He looked back across the pavilion and nodded at the Akalak. The blue man smiled and took a step forward. Navrin readied his shield, groaning inwardly as he lifted it.

He silently thanked Zulrav as the Akalak came forward that his partner had been knocked out. He wasn't sure he could have handled being beaten by the pair of them again. His thoughts were knocked out of his head by the Akalak's onslaught. He'd slammed one of his lakan into Navrin's shield and had swung the other wide. Navrin had caught the latter on his khopesh and pushed the former away with his shield. He swung the khopesh hard and the Akalak jumped away. Navrin growled and charged forward, running on little more than animal instincts and pain. He swung the shield, attempting to knock the Akalak to the ground. The blow went wide and the Akalak slammed one of his lakan into Navrin's chest. The Drykas caught the second one with his khopesh and jerked his head forward, catching the Akalak in the center of his chest.

They each took a step back and started to circle one another, each searching for an opening in the other's defense. Blood coated Navrin's chest, and the back of his head was throbbing with every step.

[Navrin Stormwalker]

The two continued to circle one another, each waiting for the other to slip up. Navrin's eyes scanned the floor of the pavilion when his eyes fell on the hammer that had caused him so much trouble. The Akalak was moving toward it with every step. Navrin let his eyes drift back up to the Akalak's face. He didn't want him to notice anything was amiss. If luck was in his favor -which it had been for most of the day - everything would go smoothly. The Akalak took another step and his foot caught on the haft of the hammer. His ankle turned sharply and he shouted, dropping to the ground and throwing one of his hands to his ankle. Navrin took advantage of the Akalak's distress and dashed forward.

He slammed the khopesh down hard. The Akalak managed to deflect the blow with his lakan, but with his second hand occupied he couldn't stop Navrin's shield. For the second time that day, he slammed the shield down on a prone Akalak. When the Akalak attempted to swing his lakan around Navrin's shield he brought the khopesh down and split the blue skin of the man's forehead. He swung again for good measure and stepped back. He spun slowly, looking for another opponent. It took him a moment to realize that he was the last man standing in the pavilion. He let the shield slide off of his arm and sat down hard. His fingers uncurled from around the hilt of the khopesh and it slipped from his grasp.

He felt a hand on his shoulder shortly after. He looked up and saw the weapons master standing over him. He offered him his free hand and Navrin took it, allowing himself to be pulled up. Before he could so much as thank the man for his assistance, he had his giant blue hands on both sides of Navrin's face. Navrin, having had his nose broken several times before, knew exactly what he was in for.

"This is going to hurt Drykas."

"Pain fades," Navrin said stoically. The Akalak nodded and positioned his thumbs on both side of Navrin's nose. The Drykas took a deep breath and the weapons master's hands began to move. He shoved both thumbs together and began to move the cartilage and bone around under Navrin's skin. His eyes watered and he felt the flow of blood increase. He could taste it seeping into his mouth, mixing with the salty sweat that was running down his face. It was like needles in the front of his head; jagged lighting bolts of pain running up and down his spine. Finally, after what seemed like a thousand painstaking minutes, Navrin heard the sickening crunch of his bones realigning. The Akalak released the grip on his face and took a step back, examining his handiwork.

"It's not straight, but it'll do." The Akalak said.

"I wasn't pretty to begin with," Navrin replied. The Akalak laughed.

"You looked better today. Not great, but better. The shield suits you I think. Come back in five days or so, give those bones a few days to set. It's not going to be pleasant, but you don't seem to be the type of person who minds discomfort."

Navrin nodded. He shook the Akalak's hand and went to get his equipment. He put the steel shield on his back and tucked his khopesh back in its sheath. He gave a quick nod to the weapons master and left the pavilion, heading back to the stables that he was calling home.

[Indigo]

Character: Navrin Stormwalker Skills: +3 Reflexes, +3 Strategy, +5 Weapon(Khopesh,) +4 Weapon(Shield,) +2 Observation Lore: Shields make good weapons, Sparring is supposed to hurt, Strategy always wins over muscle, Bigger doesn't mean better Notes: Great progression with him starting out swinging wildly with just strength at everything in sight--not enough people are willing to show novice level fighting styles and admitting injury hurts. Ty for adding the shield cost to your CS-again good job! This is an excellent example of a solo: you showed accurate level progression, how no one can spar without getting sore and hurt in some way, good tactical description and gradual use of more strategy. Damn well done. If you have any questions or comments about your grade, please PM me.