Fall 32, year 513
"Dodge and maneuver, Strike and kill!"
An exaggerated overhead swipe struck at the squire taking a step back. From there the onslaught came from the mage squire as fervent as they came. Feeling the strain on his wrists, the skin giving way on his thumbs, the ever growing ache on his back and still it was not enough.
"Fall and be counted!"
A rousing battle cry if Bolivar among his comrades in Sultros but here only something to snub. That step back was all that his opponent was going to give, staying stalwart until the opportunity presented itself to strike, watching Bolivar's fortitude give way. Peering just slightly above his shield Bolivar's opponent took another strike that grazed ever so subtly on the man's helm.
Then came his moment.
Forcing his way forward. Forward and towards. An exchange of positions shooting the sword arm forward and the blade around swiped at Bolivar as he shifted to the side to evade. Feeling the blade glance on his leg again and again Bolivar was pressured by the other squire's shield. The odds stacked in the squire's favor pressed his advantage giving Bolivar the weight of both his shield and sword tip to regular intervals.
Feeling the blows rain down on both of his sides Bolvar fought against the squire's shield pressing on his face. Bolivar's body rattled with each strike until finally the mage squire succumbed. The order was given to stop and both fighters retired to their respective patrons.
"I know you've been swinging that thing ever since you came to me but perhaps you still need to learn shield tactics."
Bolivar looked at his patron with the usual skepticism that came from being an Isurian. Slights were not easily forgiven growing up and the squire still found it hard to adjust to the mannerisms that these humans had. The Isur did use shields in Sultros but admittedly not to the extent of these Syliran Knights. Was he so different from them that he would even consider using such a thing?
“Also refrain from shouting that strike to kill bit while sparring?”
Now that was easy to rebuke. It had been ingrained to him from his own father to do so. Those little details and preparations were also considered tactics. Bolivar's being the form of both a rallying cry and a demoralizing shout to his enemies. Shaking his head politely Bolivar explained that such a request was too much for him to consider but perhaps learning the Syliran way of fighting was warranted. Bolivar was after all focused on learning to be an arsenal mage of sorts, more weapons meant more techniques to possibly master.
“I shall be a treat learning the Syliran way of fighting.”
Taking a hefty heater shield and a basic longsword, Bolivar held the pair questioningly as if unsure what to do.
“This sword is almost the length of my entire body and this shield is much too big for me.”
The shield covered the entirety of Bolivar's short frame though it came at a cost. Only able to see a few inches above the shield Bolivar glanced back at Ser Theron who was rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“We'll have it replaced after today's session. First focus on the weight of the pair and how your body moves with each move.”
Obviously the shield was the heavier of the pair with the mage squire finding it straining to hold a few inches higher from it's resting point. The wooden sword on the other hand seemed to be weightless despite the iron reinforcements. Giving a quick few waves in the air Bolivar looked back at his patron hungry for instruction.
“Keep that weight in mind. You'll understand what I mean at the end of this practice.”
A question was shown on Bolivar's face that went unasked looking back at the pair.
“First off we shall learn how to move.”
Guiding the squire to a ready stance Ser Theron imparted upon the squire how to both attack and defend in the given stance.
“Most of your body is resting on your back leg. This is where your dash comes from, where you fall back to when defending, and the place you want to always keep guarded.
