Nov watched as his unexpected student thought herself straight into a pit of frustration. She was struggling, the cook knew, as she was meant to. Had they been in a different time and place--somewhere safe, like Syliras perhaps, or Zeltiva--Nellie could afford taking the rest of the season, or whole years, even, to hone her self defense. To practice in the sanctity of trainee-ship, and to have experienced teachers guide her every step of the way through all the trials of mastering hand-to-hand combat. Hell, she could probably learn the finer points of sword fighting and axe juggling as well in that sort of environment, if she cared to.
But the here and now was neither a place of safety nor patience. This was the Berth, home of the lawless and the desperate. Life itself in these parts was a crash course, let alone all the other struggles it consisted of, and you either swam or you sank. The only charity to be given was a somewhat painful lesson today to prevent a much greater pain tomorrow.
Nellie seemed to understand that. She took Nov's brusque but honest methods well enough, and soon their little bet was quickly turning into a full blown drill.
This time, when Clam Girl tried to punch him, she had the anger to go with it. Which was good, even if her attack itself was a bit clumsy and predictable. The cook saw her left hand twitch before she shifted and ducked away from her right. Nellie's hand managed to graze his shoulder before he leaned completely out of the way. It wasn't the most potent of attempts, but she understood the concept and that was as good a start as any.
"Looks like you get the idea," Nov stated as he returned to center. "But if you want to pack more power in your punch, you're gonna need to rely on more than just your arms."
He pointed down at his feet, which were positioned similarly to Nellie's. They were planted shoulder width apart and one was slightly in front of the other. Between the two, he could easily shift his weight back and forth, ready to spring in any direction at a moment's notice. "When you're dealing with bigger blokes, you gotta take bigger steps. So it's important you know where and how much to move. Take too big a step and you leave yourself unbalanced. Take too little and you won't make it anywhere near."
Noven took a careful step back to lengthen the distance once more. "If you can't do anything else, the least you can bank on is moving. Don't let yourself be an easy target. Keeping moving, maintain distance, and think fast on your feet."
"If I were to take a step forward, like this," he demonstrated, planting one foot toward Nellie, "you might have to take two or three steps back, depending on how far I get and much longer my reach is. The last thing you want is to be caught by someone bigger, I'm sure you know. It's almost impossible to get out unless you've got a knife, or friends."
The cook retreated back to his former spot. "Now, if I take a step forward and attack, and you manage to get past my punch without taking damage, this would be your best chance to win." He demonstrated again, but this time in slow motion, taking one giant step first before gradually extending his arm past one side of Nellie's head. "Once you're in, you've got about a dozen ways to kill me. Especially if you have a knife but you can make do without."
Nov pointed to his eyes, nose, neck, heart, and stomach with his free hand. "All these are excellent and sometimes fatal places to land the one and only real attack you need to win. If you're using a dagger, stab away at any of these areas, nice and hard, to your heart's content. Though if you aim for the stomach, make sure to cut sideways if you can, or pull the knife back out. Makes it hurt more and leaves them to bleed out on their own."
Tilting his face a little upward, he continued his explanation while gesturing at the vein along his neck. "See the big vein there? That's the heart vein. Cut that, and your fight is good as won. If you don't have a weapon, gouge at the eyes, break the nose, or just a good old fashioned sock to the gut. All good options in the worst kinds of situations."
Oblivious to any and all discomfort the cook may have caused with such graphic descriptions, Nov returned to his regular stance again. "So, this time, use your fake and slips if you want, but we won't stop moving until either you've gotten past me, or I've caught you in a deadlock."
He didn't clarify whether this meant he was going to attack or not. That, he left up to Nellie to figure out. The last was to be kept on her toes, for this was no ordinary lesson to begin with.
"Ready, then?" Nov asked, extending at least that much courtesy before their next exercise began.
As soon as her consent was given, he would take a giant step forward with his right foot, the first of many more to come as the cook tried to force Nellie's hand. The bizarre dance would only end when he'd either herded her into a corner--a literal deadlock--or managed somehow to grab her. But he fully planned on saving physical contact from his end until he truly needed it.
Couldn't make this too easy for Clam Girl, now could he?
