Open The Iron Dance [Edreina]

[Razkar]

53rd Day of Spring, 513AV
Anchorage Flotilla
10th Bell

He moved in silence and speed across the sun-bathed deck of the Cuttlefish. The Svefra crewmen hustled around him but gave the striking, hacking figure a wide berth. They knew his routine as much as their own by this point. Some of them even enjoyed watching him.

Savage and scarred and alien as he was to their eyes, they knew skill when they saw it.

Razkar went through his routine over and over, as he had been doing for hours, the same core moves but endless variations. That, after all, was the nature of battle: constant, ever-shifting change, and if you couldn't keep step with that particular dance, you were dead.

One... two... three...

A triangle of blow, thrust and finish, his basic kata with two weapons. Right arm, filled with his ax, hacking horizontally and high to an enemy's left, drawing his attention as his left hand gladius was held tight to his side-

-the ax stopped, as if stalled or blocked by an invisible blade-

-and his gladius thrust forwards, impaling an unseen opponent, blade twisting viciously to rip the hole wider, then jerking backwards freeing the blade-

-ax hammering down again, diagonal blow to finish off his enemy-

He twisted, half-turning and parrying with his gladius, a new and intangible opponent to be faced. He sidestepped and swayed, as if from a massive new weapon, defensive now his watchword, not offensive. A sheen of sweat from his exertions was thick across his almost-bare body now, naked save for his loincloth. His topknot was gone, hair hanging loose and tied into a ponytail instead.

Razkar breathed heard, but his heart beat in exultation. This was where his mind was purest, in the heat and fury of battle where all was focused solely on killer and killed. He whirled again, faint smile on his lips, lashing out with a knee then a headbutt.

He was nearly finished with his two-handed routines. Then on to single hands...

He paused. A scent from behind him, over the breeze laden with saltwater and the innumerable smells from the Flotilla. The Myrian breathed deep, eyes closed... almost like a perfume... familiar...

"Good morning, Edreina," he said, smiling, without turning around, voice as smug as his expression, "Enjoy watch me train?"

"I am not your lady friend, Myrian," Eranis said, his utterly nonplussed tone almost making the Myrian jump in the air, "But I see you approve of the scent I obtained five ships over. My niece will appreciate it, I feel..."

Razkar scrunched his lips up, angrier with himself than the clipped and proper Akalak. He scowled at the scholar's back as he walked below decks, shaking his head and hoping no-one else saw his blunder.

Well... sense of smell may need a little more work...

With a soft bark he whirled on one food, sidestepped, hacked and thrust and blocked and danced and danced with his iron.

[Edreina]

"After all these years, you still suck at gutting fish..." Surai commented as his knife continued to slide effortlessly through yet another fish. Edreina did not glare up at him, only down at her fish. A raged stroke had parted its belly and - as she dug through with her fingers - scraps of innards were still being found petching everywhere. After finally she was satisfied with the cleaning, she set to removing the pin bones, slicing off the head so that she could turn the thing inside out."No no no! Not like that!"Surai's criticism came out the moment she started to use the blunt side of the knife and her thumb to pull out one of the little bones. Holding up his fish, he demonstrated, using the tip of his knife to pry out the little pin more cleanly. Nodding, despite herself, Edreina mimicked him, nodding again when it did indeed make things easier. "So... what is the deal with you and that Myrian? He seems to be into you, and you into him..." Surai seemed to admit this grudgingly as he moved onto another fish. Engrossed in his work, he did not notice how the subject turned his sister's cheeks a fiery pink. Finishing her fish, she took the next one and sliced open its belly quickly and cleanly - but diagonally. Muttering curses under her breath and proceeding to continue attempting to remove the guts which had now been nicked, so the fish would need to be dunked in the Suvan before consumption."Reina?"Surai cocked a brow, unsure of his sister's reaction."Did you hear me?" "I heard you... and he isn't interested in me... nor I in him. Were just friends. I don't see where you would get the silly assumption that he was interested in me." With a little more force than necessary, she removed the fish's head and flung it over the railing. Her brother's face was unbelieving. He watched her for a moment, fingers moving in a practiced way as he finished that fish and moved on to another. "He looks at you like I look at every woman, but perhaps a bit less... superficial." It was meant as a joke, but Edreina dropped the finished fish and devoted her energy to glaring at her brother, knife in hand still. "You don't know anything. He has a woman waiting for him; he is utterly devoted to her. He wouldn't waste his time or energy with a flighty little Svefra." At this point, she had stood and walked over, motioning about with the knife. Grinning at the rise he had gotten out of his sister, Surai decided that pushing it further would continue his entertainment. "I don't know... he looks to me like he would be interested in a night- Hey whoa! What are you going to do with that!?" Edreina had leveled her gaze and her knife at him, blue eyes a tempest. "This matter is none of your concern. Razkar is not interested in me, we are just good friends." She said this as if her word were law, looking down the glinting edge of her knife at him. When he looked like he was about to speak up again, she dropped the knife and picked up a filleted fish, slapping him across the face with it in a flash, grinning at the sound the fish made against his fleshy cheek. While his eyes were still wide with shock, and his hand was still rising to cup the cheek, Edreina left, fighting a giggle that had replaced her annoyance. Think he would have learned by now... Edreina's feet carried her to the Cuttlefish before she even realized where she was headed. On deck, Razkar was practicing what Edreina could only relate to a dance. His motions were quick, but fluid, perfectly timed. For a moment, she just stood there against the railing, watching with an upturned eyebrow and a small, entertained smile. Definitely not his type, she reminded herself, just when part of her began to fixate upon the look of his rippling muscles beneath the tan, scarred skin.

[Razkar]

In battle, the best warriors tried to see the entire field at play. Not only the swirling, bloody melee where the front ranks clashed, but the flanks, the archers, the cavalry, the rear, all those places where victory could be decided.

Razkar was a fine warrior, but he was not the best, and knew it. When he fought, and even sparred, his world shrunk to a small but distinct circle around him. Handily enough, it was just about as wide as a striking man.

It was widening. But for now, it was wide enough for him to dance.

The Myrian whirled to face a hidden enemy, gladius already striking up and to the left, knocking away a thrust blow. His ax hacked down at knee height, robbing his enemy of movement-

-and his return strike from his gladius opened up a throat.

He half-turned, gladius flipping in his hand from a forward grip to a reverse, stabbing hold. Once again it jerked up, droplets of sweat flying from the sudden stop, horizontally blocking some strike-

-ax hacking out a moment later. His use with two weapons at once was still improving, and he was trying to get over the problem of striking with one hand and then the other.

Both at once, Eranis had told him exhaustively, when they trained with lakans, no hesitation or gulf between either hand. They move as one, to defend and kill within the same breath.

"Easier said than done..."

On the next whirl, a flash of red above a freckled blur caused him to stop. Frozen, panting, ax and gladius held high in firm, sweating hands. Razkar cocked his head, vision swimming back into long focus in the space of a blink... and he saw Edreina's gaze flicker down a fraction of a moment slower than it should have done.

Now, as our readers may have ascertained, Razkar does consider himself a spoken male, with a female he loves deeply and truly, but he is, still, a male. And when a male notices a pretty female studying his taut and shimmering form, he can't help but hear his ego purr... and seek to prolong it.

"Enjoy watch?" He said, swallowing heavy to get some kind of balance back to his breathing. "Watch so close, make me feel like piece of meat." His grin became one of mischievous, exaggerated insult. "Not see me for my mind? Just body? So sad-"

A pale but quick hand whipped out and slapped across his chest, and he felt himself chuckling despite the sting. Weapons still in hand, he spread them to his sides and bowed slightly.

"Good morning to you, Mistress Edreina. How do you do?"

The Myrian awaited his answer and a candle flared in his mind. Two days before he had been unexpectantly robbed of his chance to repay the Svefra's kindness in teaching him to swim. He had intended to, but... events had gotten away from them both.

He looked away briefly. Some things were best left vague in memory's eyes, lest their definition cloud the present.

[Edreina]

"Enjoy watch? Watch so close, make me feel like piece of meat. Not see me for my mind? Just body? So sad-" Before she could stop herself, Edreina had reached out and swatted at the Myrian's chest, hard enough for him to notice but not so hard that he mistook it for actual annoyance, eyes glaring at him despite the grin that parted her lips. Again he bowed to her, causing her to flush and roll her eyes. "Good morning to you, Mistress Edreina. How do you do?" "How do you do is usually only the first time you meet someone," Edreina explained automatically with a smile. "You would, now that we know one another, ask me, 'How are you?' And I am, actually, not bad... right now." She unconsciously glared off in her brother's direction, hoping that the fish scales had left their mark. Fish... Oh! Looking down, she realized that her hands were still covered in fish gore and that some of it had ended up on Razkar's chest. Blushing, turned around and leaned over the edge of the ship, reaching down to rinse off her hands. While they were still wet, she brushed off his chest gently, quickly. "Sorry about that..." She looked to be on the edge of giggles as she removed the little tidbits from her friend's skin. Looking him from head to toe, she tilted her head, curious. "What was that you were doing? Some sort of Myrian dance?" Teasing, she grinned at the thought of the Myrian dancing, finding it almost as absurd as her using a spear. "It was quite... nice." The description did not fully encompass Edreina's thoughts on the behavior but it would fit well enough. Leaning back against the railing, she parted her hair into three sections and worked it into a quick, tight braid save for the usual flyaways. After his explanation, she nodded, thoughtful and still brimming with curiosity.

[Razkar]

"How do you do is usually only the first time you meet someone. You would, now that we know one another, ask me, 'How are you?' And I am, actually, not bad... right now."

Weapons still in hand, Razkar crossed his arms and gave her an appraising look. Gone was the deadly, tight focus of before; here was the impossibly jovial personality she knew well that clashed so strongly with his unabashedly savage appearance.

"Thank you for language lesson. You should teach more than swim..."

Then he frowned. Why did his chest feel sticky? And smell? The Myrian looked down and his nose crinkled by way of answer.

"Sorry about that..."

"Oh, by the Goddess..."

He rolled his eyes dramatically as light, soft but accurate brushes from her finger flicked away most of the aquatic viscera on his chest. Razkar had to crush the smug smile on his face as she lingered just a mite too long with each stroke, tense muscles of his chest flexing unwillingly.

Then he realized that he had to take some precautions, and tried to will his lower body to behave itself.

"What was that you were doing? Some sort of Myrian dance?"

Fortunately, she defused the moment well enough. Grinning with just an edge of mocking in her voice, she spoke and his mind was dragged from the gutter and onto the deck, where it belonged.

"It was quite... nice."

Razkar let out an amused chuckle, nodding as he heard her description. He had heard the fighting style of his people described as a dance, though it had taken him a while to see it so. Now, years after his arrival at the Training Yards, dozens of spars, fights, battles and duels behind him, he could see the... brutal elegance of it.

"Ha, is... kind of dance. I know there are clans that call it Dance of Iron." He stepped back and moved his weapons slower, weaving them in half-circles and parries and thrust, feet sliding on the deck in time with them. "But it is training. It is learning muscles to weapons. So in battle... can fight and kill with these-" he held up his weapons, and then pressed the tip of his gladius to his heart "-moving in time with this."

She was listening, he knew that much... but her fingers were apparently bored. Razkar cocked his head to one side as, apparently on a whim, three thick but neat braids were formed from her hair. He frowned minutely as she finished up, nodding firmly and, he was sure, probably having soaked up every word.

"Fast fingers..." he said, voice slow and almost appraising her. He wandered a little away from her and cocked a questioning eyebrow. "Would you like me to teach you? I still have not paid for swimming lesson..."

[Edreina]

"Ha, is... kind of dance. I know there are clans that call it Dance of Iron. But it is training. It is learning muscles to weapons. So in battle... can fight and kill with these... moving in time with this." Edreina watched him carefully, noting the ways that he moved and how he held himself and his weapons. It was obvious that such seemingly simple, straightforward motions had taken Razkar years to learn and to master. His motions nearly seemed to be effortless, strikes perfectly planned and executed. When he placed the tip of his sword near his heart, Edreina's fluttered fearfully. "Would you like me to teach you? I still have not paid for swimming lesson..." "T- teach me?" Edreina's eyes flew open at the mention of being taught to use... no, to hold the weapons. Immediately her nervous fingers were in her hair again, braiding the three braids together. Her first fighting lesson with Razkar had been... brutal to say the least. A large, faint shadow of a fist shaped bruise still remained on her ribs - it throbbed gently at the memory. "I really don't think that would be a great idea..." She narrowed her eyes chewing on the inside of her lip thoughtfully. The thought of her holding such a weapon and moving while doing so was absolutely terrifying to Edreina. She was just as liable to brain herself as she was to learn an actual technique. And, if Razkar taught this the way that he taught brawling, she would probably end up with as many scars as he by the end of the day. Edreina cringed lightly at the knife she had been using early and how badly she had petched even that up. Using a sword? That would be like signing her own death warrant. She might as well leap into the ocean with an anchor strapped to her chest. She shook her head, banishing the images. "No... definitely not the best idea... I wouldn't even know how to hold the damned thing." She tried to make light of the situation, smiling slightly. "I think I'll just stick with watching. More entertaining that way..." She winked playfully at him, settling back against the railing with her arms crossed gently just beneath her bound chest.

[Razkar]

"T-Teach me?"

The hesitation in her voice surprised Razkar, his eyesbrows shooting up sharply. The Edreina he knew was always open to new things, new experience and nuances... but weapons? Well, she had never expressed much interest.

And, an accusing little voice broke in sharply, the last time you tried to "teach" her, you ended up nearly breaking bones. Hardly a good tutoring basis, is it?

"I really don't think that would be a great idea..."

"Would not be like last time." The Myrian said, perhaps a little too quickly, as if trying to gloss over a mistake. He held up his hands almost like he was placating her... which might have worked, if they weren't holding gleaming weapons. "No offence, but you are not like me. Have not trained for years. Would just be... basics." He grinned. "Like wading, yes?"

"No... definitely not the best idea... I wouldn't even know how to hold the damned thing. I think I'll just stick with watching. More entertaining that way..."

His lips twisted into a frustrated grimace, but there was humor in it, too. She was a challenge, this one, and the more she shied away, the more he was determined to both enlighten her and repay his debt. But, for the moment, the warrior knew when an enemy stronghold was too heavily-defended, and one should wait out for weakness to show itself.

Razkar was patient. He could wait.

"As you wish..."

He placed his ax down on the railing and switched to his single gladius, turning away from her and flexing, stretching and popping his sore arm muscles. He paced in small, slow circles, rolling his head... the balls of his shoulders... his waist... legs... until finally he felt the delicious, liberating looseness he would need.

The Myrian flashed her a quick smile and planted his feet at shoulder-width, gladius in his right hand. He took a deep breath... held it... exhaled... and begun...

Razkar moved slower, both because he wanted her to notice every move, and also because this was but the preamble. The warm up. Attuning body and blade, hand and hilt, finding a balance.

He slashed upwards, diagonally, right to left, following through with his momentum by spinning gently, half-crouched as he came back, blade now at knee-height. Feet planted and adjusted, he slashed vertically upwards, body twisting away-

"With your arms high," he said suddenly, voice calm and instructional despite her protests, "or wide, you leave chest open. So, try and twist, or move chest away, in case enemy can strike back."

-and then down again, a sweeping chop that flashed in the morning sun, stopping dead as if it had slammed into an enemy body. He stepped back smoothly, sliding on both feet, gladius pulled back tight to his chest-

-exploding outwards in a horizontal thrust, sharpened short sword easily capable of punching through mail and flesh and everything in between.

"Gladius is short weapons. Good cutting edge... very sharp. Can hack and slash, but real power is thrust."

His foot slid around in a half-circle, turning him, blade moving as he spoke-

-dextrous fingers spinning the hilt around, grip reversing so the gladius was held like a dagger-

-arm jerking faster and bringing the long blade flashing in a vertical stab. He twisted it, and Edreina winced despite herself, imagining the damage the broad, razor-sharp blade could inflict when twisted so inside a body. The Myrian pulled it back and kicked out at the same time, as if kicking away an impaled and defeated enemy.

Razkar turned back to her, sweat forming against across his tanned body, skin a patchwork of black ink and scars paler than his skin tone. Bit marks were visible on his chest, the scars from a Yukman horde he and his fang had faced the previous year. Innumerable cuts and slashes from sword, ax, spear and even arrow and crossbow bolt.

Despite it all, he was still there. Standing, not really breathing hard... and smiling at her.

There was a flash of iron in the sunlight, a beautiful arc of light that shimmer in front of him, and she saw him flip the blade in mid-air, catch it lightly where the hilt met the blade, length of it resting on his forearm and pointing at his chest-

-but the hilt pointed at her.

"Come." He said, voice as gentle and coaxing as a Myrian's chords could make Common sound. "I at least show you how to hold."

Baby steps. Baby steps...

[Edreina]

"As you wish..." With his back turned to her, Edriena shamelessly enjoyed the sight of his muscles turning beneath the skin, loosening as he took on a stance that was natural from years of implementation. His breathing pattern was oddly familiar and she quickly realized that swimming was to her as fighting was to him. Keeping that in mind, Edreina payed a bit closer attention. His motions were slow, but fluid, as hers had been when instructing him on how to swim. "With your arms high or wide, you leave chest open. So, try and twist, or move chest away, in case enemy can strike back." Despite her refusal, the Myrian began to instruct her nonetheless in the same tone of voice he had used during their spar. It can't hurt... Watching him still, she began to imitate little movements such as the way he twisted his body to avoid an imaginary blow, the way he kept his weight centered. She was standing without even realizing it. "Gladius is short weapons. Good cutting edge... very sharp. Can hack and slash, but real power is thrust." She noted the information but was more glad to be reminded of the name of the short sword he always carried about. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched more closely, imagining how one would avoid or even by affected such a blow. She became so enthralled in the action that she winced when Razkar dealt a particularly fearsome attack and then twisted the blade within an imaginary body. With a sense of finality, he pulled the sword back and kicked away the invisible dead body at the same time. To Edreina, it felt as if he were displaying the lack of odds one would be gifted when fighting the Myrian. With the light sheen of sweat, the disparity in colors of his skin were more apparent as the sun hit him. She could spend an entire day cataloging his scars and would not even make it to his left side. Edreina knew that such marks were the symbols of a time-tested warrior, not one who had failed often but one who had taken so much punishment and lived through it - though it was unlikely one could say the same about his enemies. Deep down, Edreina quelled at the thought of being marked so, knowing that with such a small frame it would be easier to hit something vital if you hit her at all. With a smile, he flipped the blade up into the air and caught it... the wrong way. Edreina gave him a baffled look that lasted only for an instant . When realization hit, she took a half-step back, raising her hands in protest. Just as she was about to speak, the Myrian did so in a voice more gentle than she had heard him use any time other than during their hug. Once again, he was coaxing her - though this time it was into physical action, not the mental locking away she spent the rest of the night doing. "Petch it all if I can't say no to you..." She grumbled, taking the gladius in her left hand gingerly, as if it might bite. When it felt like the thing was about to fall out of her hand because it was being held so light, Edreina tightened her grip just slightly, glaring at the damned piece of metal through the blush that reddened her fair cheeks. Holding it more like a fish that would wriggle away if held too lightly or would slip from her grip if held too tightly, Edreina looked up to the Myrian, blue eyes a bit sharper than normal as they asked "Now what?" Despite herself, Edreina admired the Myrian's talent and deeply wanted to learn to be able to do the same. She felt as if the blade were humming in her hand, humming for death and a fresh new coat of blood and viscera.

[Razkar]

"Petch it all if I can't say no to you..."

Razkar didn't even try to hide the dung-chewing grin that spread across his face, one that smelled of shit and victory. Well-well-well, he fortress wasn't so impregnable after all. Then he banished such frivolous thoughts and turned his eyes down, studying her grip, he pale, gentle fingers wrapping around the thigh bone hilt.

"Relax." He said, careful to keep his voice moderate and not too critical. Such force could put her off entirely, and he hadn't won the battle to lose the petching war. "Not grip so tightly. Here..."

Strong but oddly pliable fingers cradled her own hand, shifting around her grip... so that four fingers were gripping the hilt in a line, with the thumb curled around to rest over the top two. He tapped her thumb gently.

"Not have thumb on top of hilt. Happens sometimes." He demonstrated by moving her thumb briefly so it was flush on the hilt and pointing upwards. "May feel comfortable, but if sword is bent back, can break finger. And when grip... hold steady... but not too tight. Too tight, um..."

The Myrian frowned, searching his mind for the word... V-something... ah, petch it.

"Shakes? When hit with sword? Shake when weapons hit? Hold sword too tight, and shakes will ruin arm and grip." She frowned minutely and Razkar could read the question there, patted her hand lightly and then took his own away. "How will you now right grip? Not too loose, not too tight? Practice. Train. You will find it. Just like I did."

"Now what?"

Razkar stepped back and smiled tightly, nodding his approval at her steely (no pun intended) expression. Earnest, focused and intent. Exactly what a good student should be, and in those guileless blue eyes, he saw they were genuine. Then he frowned again, seeing her eyes flicker down as if studying the blade in a new light...

"Blade has Power of Bones." He said simply, knowing she would understand his words and what they meant. He had told her the night of his ritual, after all. "Bone was of an enemy. Very strong enemy. She is..." he snorted softly, eyes glazing briefly in memory as he stroked the top of the hilt "... she was, very fierce. Very angry. May feel that in blade, but only true power comes in battle. When blood is being shed. Not in training."

Razkar smiled as winningly as he could and beckoned her forward. When she was near the center of the deck, he moved behind her. A slight tensing over her muscles told him this was... unexpected, but he continued, arm snaking out and holding lightly under her elbow.

"We start simple. Not too much, not too fast. I said gladius is for thrust, remember? So, we practice thrust. Stab. When use this weapon, will be close. Close enough to smell man you kill." She shuddered at the analogy but he ignored it. She had to know what it was like, that horror the first time a soul left this world and you ushered it forth. "So... elbow close..."

He bent her arm back gently, so her elbow was close to her side, upper arm vertical, lower arm horizontal, gladius held straight outwards. Razkar stepped back, not wanting to crowd her anymore, walking around her slowly like one of his instructors at Taloba.

"See enemy in front of you. See his chest. His gut. His stomach. Some big, flat, fat target where sword can go. Now... thrust."

[Edreina]

Edreina moved as she was instructed, stepping gently into the center of the deck. When he moved behind her, Edreina tensed up immediately, locking her body in place so that it would not move of its own accord. Her rear end was painfully aware of what was only inches away so, before the thoughts became to distracting, Edreina pushed her hips forward fractionally, just to alleviate the sensation. "We start simple. Not too much, not too fast. I said gladius is for thrust, remember? So, we practice thrust. Stab. When use this weapon, will be close. Close enough to smell man you kill." It was nice that he was getting down to business, distracting her, but still... damn. Edreina found herself shuddering at the image involuntarily. Already she could feel the bile in her stomach churning at the thought of light leaving someone's eyes from the end of her sword. When she did, eventually, take a life, it would not be pretty... "So... elbow close..." Again, he chose the perfect moment to move on. Just as Edreina was about to take a moment and retch over the side of the ship, he banished the images by bringing her back to the moment, away from the future. He took a moment to adjust her, straightening her arm and bending it as he liked, before stepping away. Edreina took a moment to let her muscles memorize the stance, the way that energy flowed from her shoulder to her wrist as if coiling and preparing to explode. "See enemy in front of you. See his chest. His gut. His stomach. Some big, flat, fat target where sword can go. Now... thrust." Edreina did as she was instructed, creating an image in her head. The man she created had plain features and a wash of dark hair to match his dark eyes. She chose a spot that would represent his abdomen. Unsurely, she straightened out her arm. The motion was awkward, stiff, and unrefined. Pulling her arm close once more, Edreina furrowed her brow, trying to remember something Razkar had said earlier. Oh! The second time she lashed out, she rolled her right shoulder back so that her reach extended ever so slightly and her body was angled away from a counter-strike. This time, the extension felt more natural but she quickly found herself losing balance. As Razkar continued to circle, silently observing, Edreina adjusted herself again, thinking the motion through and how she would fix it. She struck again as she had the second time, noting where she began to lose balance and where she felt unstable. Edreina widened her stance slightly so that her bare feet were as far apart as her narrow shoulders. The next time she struck, it felt more balance until her arm was fully extended. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for an instant, begging the state of mind that had existed during their spar to return. She knew that she was holding herself back, afraid to really push herself.. afraid of what she may learn. Deep down, she found a small, flickering flame and pulled it closer to her heart, letting it warm her blood. When her eyes were opened again, the silver flickered as if the little flame were being reflected in them. The next time she struck, she pulled her right elbow back as her torso pivoted, balancing out her momentum. On an instinct kindled within the flame, she pulled the sword out of her imaginary foe and lifted her arm slightly, continuing the left-turn before whipping her body back into place, arm jerking so that the torque of the motion sent the blade's butt into the foe's skull. The fact that she was able to imagine doing something such as that made Edreina tremble and consider dousing the flame. No... I may need this... one day soon... Resuming a more lose stance, Edreina looked over her shoulder to Razkar. "Better?" Already she found herself itching to move onto what was next, to learn more. Sometimes, a love of knowledge could become voracious.