[The Docks] Let's get down to business (Solo)

[Satevis]

35th Day of Spring, 512 AV

The scimitar was beautiful. Even Satevis, who was admittedly clueless about weapons, knew that much. It was a little slice of his former homeland in a leather scabbard, delicately curved steel with a razor-sharp edge. And he had absolutely no idea what to do with it.

It was for that reason that the Ethaefal made his way down into the docks, scimitar awkwardly held in one hand. The blade was still in its scabbard. He hadn't even removed it from the cloth wrapping that had been wound around it to protect it during travel. When someone came by to deliver the sword a few days ago, he had examined the purchase and then shoved the box under his bed, not completely sure what he needed to be doing. He had put in a request for sword training with the newly-formed association, but hadn't heard anything back.

Until last night, anyway, when he came home to a letter slipped underneath his door asking him whether or not he would be able to come to the docks for his first lesson.

Since coming to Zeltiva, Satevis had avoided the docks. He knew that Zeltiva was a blend of sailors and scholars. It could be seen anywhere in the city one went, and he had nothing against sailors. But Satevis also knew that the docks were some of the rougher parts of the city. He couldn't fight and he couldn't swim, so he had simply avoided the area just in case.

Well, he could fight. But fire Reimancy made for unpleasant battles, and those weren't the sort of affairs he made a habit of seeking. Water, too, could be just as dangerous in its own right.

The building that the letter had indicated was a small building off to the side of the docks. It looked as though it had once been used for storage, but it was empty now, nothing but four walls, a roof that let the sun in, and a stone floor. Satevis frowned, wondering if this might be some sort of trap. He didn't want to distrust the association, but it was new, and he still wasn't sure of its intentions. He remained alert just in case, looking around for things that would burn as he kept his reserve of Res at the ready.

He stepped into the building, closing the rickety door behind him.

There was a man seated cross-legged on the floor, a wooden practice sword lying across his lap. He had the look of a sailor about him--tanned skin and a broad, muscled build. His face bore the beginnings of a beard, and he had a scar up one arm that disappeared into the sleeve of his shirt. He was dressed in simple clothes, a white shirt and pants. The man's eyes were brown, a sign, Satevis remembered, that he was not of the Svefra. His eyes flicked towards the wrapped sword in Satevis's hand and he scowled.

"Didn't you even unwrap the thing, boy?" he asked.

Satevis paused, glancing down at the scimitar. "I did, earlier, to take a look at it," he said. He looked down at it again. "Was I supposed to?"

The man sighed, getting to his feet and shaking his head. "Well, they said you'd be new," he said. He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair, leaning down and picking up the wooden sword at his feet. "Catch." Before Satevis could say anything, he tossed it at him. Satevis fumbled with his free hand, managing to catch it in an awkward hug to himself. It was surprisingly heavy.

"Metal core," said the man. "I'd rather start you off with that than plain wood, get'cha used to the weight. You owe me eight gold mizas--seven and five silver for the weapon, and five silver for not having the brains to order one yourself."

Satevis stared at the weapon. "My apologies..." he said. "I didn't think to--"

"Cut the crap, kid," said the man, cutting him off. "I'm not one of your professors at the University."

Satevis's eyes narrowed at the interruption, but he nodded once, his mouth drawn into a fine line as he stared at the man. The man picked up his own wooden sword, testing the weight in his hands before holding it loosely in his right. "Like I was saying, you'll be starting with the practice one, unless you want to lose fingers." He paused for a moment, facing Satevis. "The name is Carter. I'll be docked in Zeltiva for the rest of the season. Lucky you, right?" His face spread into a grin.

Satevis wasn't exactly sure how lucky he was, or how he felt about this Carter. But he nodded once, gently putting down the real scimitar against the wall and holding the practice blade in his hands.

"So, kid," said Carter, grinning. "Now that that's out of the way, let's talk swords."

[Satevis]

Let’s talk swords…

Satevis stood still, watching the man in front of him. He considered himself a patient man, but Carter’s brusque manner annoyed him, and he honestly wasn’t sure how well this could work. But he had already committed to learning this and had the weapon in his hand, and Satevis was nothing if not a good student. He listened.

”I’m gonna take a guess and say that you don’t know the first thing about swords,” said Carter. ”You had your choice from any weapon on Mizahar, and you chose that sword because it’s a part of your culture. But you need to know what you’re getting into.” He jabbed his thumb towards the scimitar in the corner. ”That is not a stabbing sword,” he said. ”That is a saber. It’s made to cut, and that’s something you need to remember. Got it?”

Satevis nodded once, not saying anything lest he get interrupted again.

”Good,” said Carter, unfolding his arms and letting his own wooden sword fall to his side. ”So let’s get to work. First of all, you hold a sword like that, and you’ll get knocked on your arse the minute you get into any trouble.”

He walked over to Satevis, correcting his stance and his grip on the sword. Carter wasn’t gentle in his corrections, roughly shoving Satevis’s arms and legs into place until he held the wooden scimitar in a grip that was passable. Satevis bore with the corrections, trying to curtail his impatience as he attempted to mimic the other man’s stance.

”C’mon, you can do better than that,” taunted Carter. ”My grandma could knock you over, and she’s five years in the ground!”

Satevis resisted the urge to point out once again that this was his first time and that he was doing his best. It would only make him sound petulant. In his mind, he was already counting down the minutes until this lesson would be over. What had he been thinking? He obviously didn’t have the makings of a warrior of any sort. He’d return the sword, and drop out of the association. Magic would simply have to do as a means of defense.

Unfortunately, he was honor bound to see this ill-fated lesson through.

”Alright, guess your stance is gonna have to do,” he said. ”Now let’s try a basic strike. Follow me.”

Carter stood next to him, raising his sword and slashing diagonally down in one fluid motion. Satevis watched him, a small scowl of frustration on his face as he tried to replicate it. Carter watched him, shaking his head. ”You’re too stiff!” he barked. ”Try that with a real sword, and it’ll stop the moment it hits anything. Loosen up a little.”

”And how am I supposed to do that?” asked Satevis, trying and failing to keep the edge from his voice.

”You’re smart,” said Carter. ”Figure it out for yourself.”

If I could… he thought, raising his sword up and trying it again. …I wouldn’t need you, now would I? He tried to add more fluidity to his movements, but it seemed like they were feeling stiff and unnatural no matter what he did. He was frustrated. Learning magic was hard, but magic came easier to him than this.

”Right, that’s enough,” said Carter. ”Now let me show you a block. Someone comes at you with that same slash, and you raise your sword up like this—,” He positioned Satevis’s sword, holding it in front of his chest. ”And make sure you keep a leg back or you’ll fall over. Got it?”

”Not quite,” said Satevis, frowning as he tried the movement again.

”You better,” said Carter, coming around so that he was standing in front of Satevis. He held his wooden sword in both hands. ”Because I’m coming.”

Satevis’s eyes widened as he realized what Carter was planning to do. He couldn’t seriously be planning to attack him now, could he? Satevis hadn’t even had time to practice the block, much less apply it in a real situation. ”Wait!” he said. ”I’m not—,”

It was too late. The other man moved, raising his sword. The wooden sword came crashing down before he could finish his protest. Satevis raised his own blade in a poor attempt to block, but Carter’s sword slammed into it, the impact shocking him off his feet and sending him tumbling backwards. He landed on his rear on the dusty ground, the shock of impact reverberating up his right arm to his elbow. The sailor paused, staring down at him as the Ethaefal picked himself up off the ground, his crystalline eyes narrowed in a glare.

”I told you I wasn’t ready!” he snapped, surprised at how angry his voice sounded.

”And I told you to be ready,” said the man. ”In the real world, no one’s gonna warn you before they attack you.”

”Well, this isn’t the real world, is it?” retorted Satevis. He rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his clothes and carrying the practice weapon with it. ”I don’t know how you expect me to get anywhere with that teaching style.”

”Teaching style?” repeated Carter, his eyes narrowing as he stared Satevis down. The Benshira’s eyes seemed startlingly blue, lit by his anger. The effect might have been intimidating, but Carter seemed unfazed by it. He glared back. ”This isn’t one of your classes, kid, and it ain’t a game either. You’re a good enough student. You don’t need to learn to be one. I thought you wanted to learn to fight. If you don’t, then get out. I don’t have time to waste coddling you.”

He turned away, his back to Satevis. The Ethaefal’s grip tightened on the hilt of his wooden sword, his free hand clenching into a fist. Outwardly, his expression changed little, but on the inside, he was seething. He took in a slow breath, trying to bring some reason back to his thinking, but it was too late. He was gone.

Before he had even truly thought about it, the Ethaefal charged forward, raising his sword up in the slash that Carter had been trying to teach him. He aimed it at the other man’s side, bringing it down. Carter moved in a flash, pivoting to the right and catching Satevis’s sword with his own. The air filled with the clack of wood on wood.

The sailor stared at Satevis from across their crossed blades, meeting his eyes. They had hardened in determination, a challenging look in them, as if daring him to question his resolve again.

Carter’s face broke into a grin.

”Now,” he said, taking a step back and lowering his sword, ”we’re getting somewhere.”

Satevis continued to stare at him, lowering his sword back into the position he had been taught. Carter raised his own sword, still grinning as he faced Satevis. ”Don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning this time,” he said, before rushing forward. Satevis took a step back, raising his sword in the block he had been taught. Carter’s sword struck it, the force of the blow nearly pushing him over, but he managed to remain standing this time, shifting his feet somewhat to distribute the weight.

”Now you,” said Carter, stepping back. ”Strike and block, strike and block. We’ll keep doing this till you get it right.”

Satevis nodded, taking a deep breath and charging forward again.

[Satevis]

Carter kept him at it for what seemed like hours, a constant stream of strikes, blocks, strikes, and blocks. Satevis had lost count of how many times they repeated the same thing, but after some time, the movements came easier to him, and they sped up, the strikes and blocks coming in rapid succession. By the time Carter called a halt to their lesson, the sun had colored the inside of the building a deep orange, a cool wind beginning to drift down from the land.

Satevis’s breath came in short pants as Carter called a stop, beads of sweat rolling down his face. The thin clothes he was wearing clung to his skin, and his arms, legs, and shoulders burned steadily from the weight of the sword. He mumbled a word of thanks as Carter passed him a waterskin, tipping it back and drinking deeply in between breaths.

The sailor grinned, watching him. Carter looked tired and sweaty as well, but nowhere near as worn out as the scholar was.

”Not a bad first lesson,” he said as Satevis straightened up, handing the waterskin back to the man. ”You’ll probably be cursing me tomorrow though.”

”I don’t curse,” said Satevis quietly. There was none of his previous hostility in his tone. The anger had been worked out of him about half an hour ago. Now, all he could think of was a long bath, and maybe a nap before he had to go back to his studies.

Carter shrugged. ”Figures you don’t,” he said. ”Well, you’re worn out and I’ve got ship repairs to see to, so I’ll call this lesson to an end for now. What say we meet back here in two days and pick up where we left off?”

”Two days…” repeated Satevis, nodding once. He no longer felt like quitting the association. After the first few passes, the movements began to feel more natural, and he had been challenged by Carter to keep going. He couldn’t back down from that now. ”I’ll be here.”

”Good,” said Carter. ”Go home, get some rest, and leave the attitude behind when you come back. And I’ve got one last thing to tell you.”

Satevis frowned, but looked back at him, pausing on his way to pick up the real scimitar and his pack.

Carter stared at him for a moment, looking him over. ”Heard a bit about you from the rest of the association,” he finally said. ”They say you’ve got a touch for fire. That there, in your hands, that’s fire. You keep it under control, and it’ll kill for you. But it was made to burn, and it don’t care if it burns you or the other guy. Keep that in mind if you ever find yourself using the real sword. We clear?”

Satevis nodded once, surprised in spite of himself. A sword as fire…he had never thought about that before. He looked down at the practice blade that had felt so wrong in his hands, imagining it as the flames he had learned to call into being. It felt wrong too, the day after his Reimancy initiation. But three years later, he couldn’t imagine not being able to use the magic that now came so naturally to him.

He wondered if three years down the line, he would feel the same about this.

”I’ll remember that,” he said. ”Thank you.”

Carter nodded, watching as Satevis picked up the sword and slung his pack over his shoulder. ”And I still want my mizas,” he said, holding his hand out. ”The lesson’s free, but the weapon is not.”

”Of course,” said Satevis. He reached into his coinpurse, counting out eight gold mizas and handing them to the man. He dropped them into Carter’s outstretched hands, and the sailor counted out the coins, nodding once as he put them in his pocket. ”Keep practicing on your own time, but don’t wear yourself out. See you in two days, kid.”

Satevis nodded. ”I’ll see you,” he said.

The Ethaefal turned, walking out of the small building and slowly making his way back to the University.

[Arcane]

Rewards and Treasure! Experience Points +3 Weapon: Scimitar +1 Observation Lores The Docks Carter the Sailor Carter the Scimitar Teacher Scimitar Swordsmanship: Basic Strike Scimitar Swordsmanship: Basic Block Miscellaneous -8gm from your Ledger Add Scimitar (Practice, Metal Core) to your Inventory Comments I loved how you worked in character development and realistic NPC interaction into this training thread, this transforms it into something more interesting than just well, training. Not that pure training wouldn't be interesting, but this thread was not technical enough to be interesting if it was pure training, so the extra frills you added was a good decision. Keep it up! PS: Note that this thread would have netted you only +2 XP in Scimitar. The 3rd is a once-off freebie to start you with since Satevis has 0 XP in that skill.