Crossing Blades ATTN: Adrian and Ravak

[Prew]

The early morning sunlight flashed off the polished steel as his sword rapidly cut through the air, diagonal slashes followed by vertical chops. Perspiration stained his tunic but he was one with the weapon, deep into the Void. He danced through the various forms, Unfolding the Fan to Leopard in the Tree followed by The Swallow Rides the Air, defending an imaginary Aes Sedai. He had increased his morning practice routine to two hours. His body was warmed, muscles loose, mind sharp. Yet just outside the Void lingered an air of anticipation. Today Prewtez d’Grayson would go from being student to becoming teacher.

The Mistress of Training had assigned two students to the Ji’alantin, a Drin’far’ji and a Soldier. He had been pleasantly surprised to learn that both were men close to his age rather than totally untrained youths. He had spent hours as an Officer in the Queen’s Guard Horse training raw recruits, trying to teach them enough skills to keep them alive. It had not always been enough. He hoped his students today already possessed skills that it would be his task to help sharpen.

Prewtez stopped his practice embracing the form Folding the Fan, his blade making a graceful arc before sliding into his scabbard. Although the Void had dissipated with the sheathing of the blade, his body remained in the state of Emptiness, alert to the environment around him. He turned and smiled briefly, brushing his long grey streaked dark hair from his shoulders, and observed the two men approaching.

Turning first to the Soldier, a dark haired man about his height but a few years his junior, he bowed slightly in greeting, “You must be Adrian Danethor, a fellow Andoran I see.” He presented the Shienaran Drin with the same slight bow, “And you are Ravak Darrow? I had been told you were a Shienaran, but no top knot?” Prewtez ddi not give either man a chance to reply but continued, pacing slowly from one to the next. “Before we begin to actually use weapons, I would like for you to answer a few questions,” he paused to see if either man objected.

“First, I would like each of you to tell me what experience you’ve had with the sword. I notice that both of you have something of a soldier about you. I was in the service of Queen Morgase for thirteen years so I recognize when a man has had some training.” He let them think on that a moment before continuing.

“Next, what is your weapon of preference? Myself, I used a bastard sword while in the cavalry but have exchanged it for this,” he slowly pulled the katana halfway out of the scabbard, then resheathed it. “My intention is to someday earn the Heron mark and this seems the blade worthy to bear them.” He wasn’t sure why he had admitted that to these men, only the Gaidar Captain and the Mistress of Training knew of his aspiration. Yet he was proud of his goal and would seek it for as long as it took to finally be recognized a Blademaster.

“Finally, what do you know of sword forms? It is fine if you know nothing, the purpose of these sessions is to help you master some. But I would hate to waste your time covering forms you already know.”

Prewtez squinted his left eye, the scar above it becoming more prominent, as he patiently awaited their replies. “Who first?”

[Craig]

Ravak Darrow Ravak crossed the yard, careful to avoid the other men and woman running through their routines. Today he was going to work with a Ji' and a Soldier both, using the longsword strapped across his back. He could have carried it at his waist like others did, but he imitated the Shienaran Army's use of two-handed greatswords; those were too large to carry anywhere else.

He approached d'Grayson, a tall man with enough grey in his black hair to mark him as distinguished. Rav noticed the scabbard hanging from the man's belt, and drummed his right hand against his waist where his sword-breaker normally resided. Another left-handed swordsman. How fortunate.

He also spotted a Soldier walking towards d'Grayson, about a hand taller than the Shienaran. There were flecks of grey in his hair as well, although he didn't seem as old as the Ji'. He thought that both the Soldier and the Ji' were Andoran, just from the way they looked. Not that that makes any difference.

d'Grayson introduced the Soldier as Adrian Danethor, and as he had correctly guessed, an Andoran. When d'Grayson mentioned the lack of a topknot, Rav ran a hand through his hair self-consciously. He stood straight-backed as the Ji'alantin, a veteran of the Queen's Guard, asked a series of questions. The man aspires to be a Blademaster? Some luck to be placed under his tutelage.

"Who first?" d'Grayson asked. Rav stepped forward, and gave a slight bow, hand on chest, before speaking. Light, I need to get out of the habit of doing that to everyone I meet.

"I trained for a year in Fal Dara, under the instruction of Lord Agelmar's army, of House Jagad." He had no idea if either man would know of Agelmar or of his house, but he thought it wise to mention it, just in case. It wasn't boastful, just a truth spoken plain. "I had issues with the training. I didn't have the same freedoms as I do in the Tower, and the rigidity of the training didn't sit well with me."

That sounded a bit too much like 'Lord Darrow' looking down upon his instructors. He thought to clarify, but decided just to press on instead. "I learnt well enough with the longsword to hold my own in training against other men. That may be enough for some, but in Shienar, you need to know how to handle yourself against Trollocs, or other Shadowspawn. That much I cannot do." He delivered that with a regretful shake of the head.

He paused a little too long before speaking again. The Ji'alantin raised his left eyebrow, drawing attention to the scar that crossed above his eye. "I- I don't believe I learnt any sword forms." He wasn't entirely convinced of his answer. It was possible some of his training had included forms, but he couldn't recall them in this moment. Rav nodded with finality, and stepped back in line with Adrian.

[Prew]

Prewtez d'Grayson

Prewtez listened attentively as Ravak answered his questions. He knew one could often get the measure of a man not just from what he said but how he said it… and what he did not say. The Shienaran, for example, exhibited traits that bespoke of his military training, yet admitted to having issues with it, rejecting the its rigidity . Light! Wait until he discovers what the Tower has in store for him. Although perhaps it was the way Shienarans were trained. Prewtez had no idea of their methods but, being a borderland nation, it was possible they were quite as rigid as the man suggested. Probably had to be, living so close to the Blight. But Prewtez was not bothered by the man’s shunning of the military, despite he himself having been a career soldier. The best man he had ever served with, outside of Captain Bradenton himself, was like that. Darce had won promotion time and again for his battlefield prowess, only to be demoted each time because of his insubordination. Another officer would have been rid of the man but Prewtez valued the trooper for what he did on the field, and often overlooked the rest. He owed the man his life several times over. There was no one he would rather have had at his back. He hoped Ravak Darrow would prove to have the same mettle. Prewtez had noted the Shienaran was missing part of his ring finger and doubted that was due to a kitchen accident. The man appeared to be a fighter.

“Lord Agelmar, one of the four Great Captains,” Prewtez acknowledged. Many said there were five but his animosity towards the Children of the Light would not allow him to credit Pedron Niall as such. “Shienar and Andor are fortunate to have such men leading us, though sadly I hear Gareth Bryne has retired.” His face clouded for a moment at the thought of that loss. Prewtez glanced at the longsword strapped to Ravak’s back. “I see you carry a butcher’s weapon, no doubt most effective against Trollocs and other Shadowspawn. You say you cannot handle yourself against such foes? Rest assured the Tower will see that you will. The Final Battle is coming, gentlemen, I’ve been warned of that fact by those whose opinions I deeply respect. We all must prepare to do our part."

Prewtez turned his attention to the Andoran.
“And you, Soldier, how do you answer the questions?”

[Jenny]

Adrian stopped in front of a rack of weapons and grabbed a sword and scabbard. His own weapons had been taken away when he enrolled in the Tower. But that was no great loss – the weapons provided here were finer than any he’d ever touched as a mere foot soldier.

As he crossed the yard to find his instructor, he glanced around him with curiosity. The Warder Yards were full of men and women practicing with their weapons. Their skill and speed were astonishing.

Will I measure up? he wondered. He shook his head. Doubt would not help. He would find out with time and practice. Soon, he found his instructor, Prewtez d’Grayson, and a Drin’far’ji who was to be his training partner. The Drin, Ravak Darrow, had a sullen expression as though he’d eaten something sour for breakfast.

Adrian listened attentively as the other men spoke. The Ji’alantin clearly had superior experience and training. He was glad, however, to hear that Ravak had trained only for a year. Perhaps he wasn’t as behind as it seemed. Adrian stepped forward when it was his turn.

“I served in the Andoran army under the banner of House Taravin for seven years,” Adrian said. “Not as prestigious as the Queen’s Guard, but I’ve seen my fair share of fighting. Mostly from guarding wagons and catching bandits and the like… although a lot of guard work is just standing around looking awake.” He smiled wryly, then his expression returned to seriousness. "But I've never faced Trollocs or Shadowspawn."

He continued. “I prefer to fight with a staff or sword. I’m most comfortable with a quarterstaff since I learned that when I was a boy. But if you’re asking about a bladed weapon, I’m most familiar with the longsword.” He gestured to the sword at his hip.

He hesitated for a moment before answering d’Grayson’s last question. At least Ravak, too, had never learned any forms.

“Forms, sir? I’m afraid that my education with the sword has been rather sloppy. My captain taught me some moves to defend and attack, but I don’t know the names or anything like that. I know how to hold a weapon and how to avoid slicing my own ear off while swinging, and that’s about it.”

[Prew]

Prewtez

Both men had some experience, that was good. The Andoran had seen combat and the Drin, well, simply being Shienaran was enough. These two were not youngsters, heads filled with visions of glory. These men would undoubtedly know combat for what it was, ugly, frightening, and very, very bloody. Prewtez recalled how he had to sick up the first time he saw a man’s entrails spill from his body.

“Ah, Lady Dyelin’s House, was it? A fine House indeed,” allowing himself a small smile in part to rid the memory just now, and then added for the Soldier’s benefit, “No need to call me sir. Outside of the Gaidar Captain, the Mistress of Training and, of course, the Mistress of Arms there are no officers here. A simple ‘Ji’ will do.”

Prewtez walked a circle around the two students observing their body language while seeming to look at their weapons. Both appeared a bit anxious which was to be expected. He recalled the first time he crossed swords with Riahana Gaidar and the unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach then. But if his own experience with the ways of the Tower was any indication, their confidence would grow with their first Raising. He thought of his own doubts as a Drin’far’ji, but those had been dispelled during his Survival Test.

Coming to a stop in front of them, he began:
“Gentlemen, I’ve been tasked with introducing you to the most common sword forms. These are key to good swordsmanship. And while you may not need them against foes such as Trollocs you will if you hope to survive a Fade. In addition, a swordsman trained in the forms can defeat multiple opponents that are not.” He paused to make his point. Both students appeared to be listening attentively.

“As a Warder, Drin Darrow, more likely than not you will find yourself in such situations. Soldier Danethor, while some Asha’man carry a sword for decoration only, you are here I presume because you know it is not wise to depend on the One Power alone. Over the next two weeks we shall have several sessions. Once you have shown me you have a basic understanding of a few common forms I shall inform the Mistress of Training and the Master of Soldiers. Now, observe.”

Prewtez took a moment to find the Void and then proceeded to demonstrate Unfolding the Fan. He drew his sword from its scabbard swiftly, arcing it towards his face before bringing the blade to his side, tip down.
“I have done two things just now,” he explained, “The first should be familiar to you, Soldier. Some call it the Flame and the Void; Others the Oneness. You, Drin, might know it as ko’di. It is a basic mental exercise designed to bring your focus solely on your weapon and your opponent. In a sense, your sword becomes a part of you. When I first began to practice I found a simple mantra helped me find the Void. I no longer need it. This is the first part of your assignment. When we meet again tomorrow I shall expect you to be able to enter this state.” He checked to be sure they understood.

“The second thing I demonstrated was one of the most basic, yet important, forms a swordsman learns. It is called Unfolding the Fan. The purpose is to show that you are both confident and graceful. While you might find that latter quality humorous, it is essential if you are to master the blade. A swordsman needs to have the grace of a dancer as success depends more on footwork than anything else. You may draw your weapon to practice this form.”

He waited patiently as both men practiced the forms.

OOC: Feel free to expand on this and have Prewtez comment if you wish.

“The final thing to show you today is the most basic practice form. It is called The Heron Wading in the Rushes. Observe.”
Raising his blade to shoulder height he made a series of horizontal slashes, pivoting on his rear foot each time. “Now, before you try, be sure you step more than a sword’s length away from each other. We wouldn’t want any accidents now!’”

OOC: Same as above.

After both men had practiced the form several times, Prewtez moved to wrap up the session.
“I should tell you that the form you have just finished should never be used in combat. It is for practicing balance and footing. Can either of you tell me why it shouldn’t be used?”

He waited for one of them to answer correctly before finishing.

“You might be disappointed that we did not cross swords today. However, there is no sense in reinforcing old habits. You have both confessed to not having knowledge of the forms so we are starting with a fresh slate. Between now and tomorrow’s session, in addition to the mental exercise, I want you to practice the two forms I demonstrated today. I shall expect both of you to perform them tomorrow. Any questions before you go?”

Prewtez resheathed his sword again using Folding the Fan.

[Jenny]

“You are here, I presume, because you know it is not wise to depend on the One Power alone,” said Prewtez.

Definitely not wise, thought Adrian. He was weak in the One Power, barely strong enough to remain as a trainee. Sometimes when he practiced the One Power with other Soldiers, he felt like a minnow swimming among sharks.

At the Ji’alantin’s instruction, he gripped the hilt of his sword and sought the Void. After a few lessons here at the Tower, it was not as difficult as it once was. He was one with the sword; it was part of him, like an extension of his limb. He was one with the ground and the air, his stance poised in perfect balance. The glow of saidin lurked at the edge of his vision, but he ignored it even though he yearned for its sweetness. Not here, not now, he told himself.

He drew his sword - and he felt, more than saw, as Ravak did the same. Adrian’s sword left his hip and cut through the air in a swift arc. He watched with some surprise at how smoothly his weapon moved, although his surprise skittered across the Void and slid away to nothingness. In the Void, no emotion could touch him; he was his blade, and they were one.

The sword ended its arc at his side, its tip pointed downwards.

Too slow, he thought. Again. He sheathed his sword and practiced the form again. Unfolding the Fan, it was called. He wondered why. If not for the Void, his thoughts would have spiraled into endless speculation – but he fed his curiosity to the Flame and enveloped himself again in the Void.

Again. And again.

His instructor’s voice broke through the air. Adrian watched as Prewtez performed Heron Wading in the Rushes. It was…. interesting to see the grey-haired Ji’alantin shifting from foot to foot, lifting the other to stand on one leg like a heron. An awkward and silly form – but there was still a certain gracefulness as Prewtez maintained his balance flawlessly. It was clearly the product of hours of practice.

Adrian stepped away from Ravak to give himself space. He brought his sword up to shoulder height, and then brought a foot up to balance on the other, pivoting as he did so. It was far harder than it looked – Adrian could feel the muscles of his legs and lower back stretching to keep his balance. He traded awkwardly to the other foot.

After a few more minutes of practice, Prewtez warned them that this form should never be used in combat. “Can either of you tell me why it shouldn’t be used?” he asked.

Adrian answered immediately, demonstrating as he spoke. He moved his sword to shoulder height and gestured.

“With the sword raised so high, your lower body is left completely unguarded. And, with one foot planted firmly while the other is raised, there is no way to dodge an attack. It leaves you too vulnerable.”

When Prewtez asked for questions, Adrian had none. He waited to see if Ravak would have any.

[Craig]

Ravak Darrow Ko'di was a term that Ravak recognised, the translation tickling at the back of his mind. It was something he had picked up after-hours, whilst in the company of more experienced soldiers. They had spoken of the ko'di, a way of focusing your concentration on the task at hand, and forcing aside all emotions and distractions. He could achieve that, with some effort.

As d'Grayson continued, Rav bemoaned that he had come ill-prepared for the day's lesson. Unfolding the Fan required a scabbard at his waist, not one on his back. He didn't have time to return to his room and collect his sword-breaker; he would have to make do without. "You may draw your weapon to practice this form." Rav ignored the faces of both teacher and fellow student as he drew his sword over his shoulder, then crossed the hilt into his right hand to position it at waist height.

Holding the sword in both hands, one on the crossguard for positioning and the other gripping the hilt, he started to assume ko'di. He focused on his stance, how his hands held the blade, and how the blade was positioned in accordance to his body. Everything else was pushed aside. d'Grayson and Adrian faded into the background, as remote as the Grey Tower, as remote as the sky. His breathing slipped into a rhythmic pattern. There was Ravak and the sword, and the nothingness that surrounded them.

Ravak drew the sword, lifting the blade free from the balance provided by his right hand. He drew the blade and returned it to his side, drew and returned. It was prudent to know how fast and how clear he could draw from his waist. That achieved, not that he felt achievement within ko'di, he tested Unfolding the Fan. The blade moved clear from his waist, sliced through the nothingness before him, before ending back at his side. He practiced this in the same measured way as he controlled his breathing. The blade was sheathed, the cut was delivered, the point was ground home. The blade sheathed, the cut delivered, the point ground home. This was repeated until there was no improvement to be made in the drawing, delivering and driving down of the blade. Pride nor satisfaction suspended his training, just pragmatism in realising a lesson learnt, practiced, and unable to be bettered without a much longer time to prepare.

The emptiness outside his body expanded to include the Ji and his voice. The Heron Wading in the Rushes. The names may have brought a smirk to Rav's face, if he wasn't enveloped by the nothingness outside and the focus within. d'Grayson struck at neck height has he rotated on his back foot, then moved to perform the action again, only one foot on the ground, alternating strikes cutting left then right.

Ravak moved to allow himself room. The ridiculous nature of this form would have been apparent at any other time, but any feeling was lost within ko'di. He sliced at neck height, driving the blade left then right. Achieving this without difficulty, he added the pivot, giving the blade more power in each strike, at the expense of slightly trickier footwork. Lastly came the balancing act of moving from foot to foot. It did not come easily at first, the evenness between upper and lower body balance not moving in step. He teetered a few times, bringing his other leg down to reestablish stability. Subsequent attempts were more stable, but not without missteps or wobbles. He continued practicing the form, until d'Grayson's voice forced its way out of the emptiness, and the ko'di dissipated like fog.

Ravak listened to the Ji's question and the Soldier's answer, reflective of that experience of holding ko'di. He had never held that inner focus for so long, or so soundly. Emotions normally broke his concentration, but this time it had been the words of others that forced him back into reality.

d'Grayson didn't wait on Ravak to answer, which was fortunate as Adrien had captured his own thoughts on the form. Aside from that it looks ridiculous. That thought was finally allowed to come out. When the Ji asked if there were any questions, Ravak decided to make a statement instead. "I shall come prepared with a scabbard tomorrow," he said with heating raising in his cheeks. He was glad that this lesson was over, for now that he had a day to find a suitable scabbard.

[Prew]

Prewtez

The sky was a roiling mass of grey as Prewtez finished his practice and unbuckled his sword belt. It looked as if the clouds would open at any moment and unleash a deluge that would put a damper on today’s lesson. As if, he thought with a shake of his head. It had not rained for weeks now. The fruit in the Warder’s mess was getting skimpier all the time, the portions of vegetables and even bread shrinking as well. He didn’t like to think about what was behind the unusual weather, far too warm and dry for this time of year. Best leave those worries to Aes Sedai and Asha’man he decided as he placed his sword onto the earth at the side of the sparring grounds. He picked up three wooden practice swords and then walked to the middle of the earthen ring awaiting the arrival of his charges.

In truth he was quite pleased with the two men. Both had easily found the void, it was evident to the trained eye in the way they held themselves, the way they moved through the two forms he had demonstrated. It did not surprise him that Adrian Danethor had easily embraced the Void. After all, weren’t channelers trained in such things? But Ravak Darrow also mastered the state easily. This man was a bit of a mystery to Prewtez. He downplayed his training, yet it was evident he was comfortable with a sword. Ravak had demonstrated Unfolding the Fan as if born to it. It had taken a few attempts by the Andoran before he had the proper speed but Ravak Darrow had gotten it immediately. Yes, this Shienaran was definitely an interesting man. Both men had struggled a bit at first with The Heron Wading in the Rushes, but that was normal. The stance was an almost ridiculous exaggeration of proper form, yet that was the point. Balance and footwork often meant the difference between life and death. He sensed the men’s mirth at the names of the forms. He himself had found them funny once, but now he viewed them with what could almost be called reverence. Perhaps that was because what faith he had was placed in the blade, and the Pattern, of course. As for a Creator, well, if such an entity existed why didn’t it come and oppose the Shadow? Why leave that to men?

As his students arrived Prewtez noted with a smile the new scabbard Darrow was sporting. Yes, definitely an interesting man!

“Good morning, gentlemen, at least I hope it has been for you thus far. Please remove your swords and place them to the side. Today we’ll be using these,” he handed each a practice sword. As the two did as asked and returned to face him, Prewtez grinned broadly, which was not a particularly comforting sight.

“Soldier Danethor, Drin’far’ji Darrow, let us put aside the forms for now. I would like to see what you can do. I shall observe without comment as the two of you spar. Questions? If not, you may begin.”

The Ji then stepped back to watch.

[Craig]

Ravak Darrow

Ravak sported a new scabbard as he walked into the overcast yard. The weight of the longsword was a little off-putting, more comfortable with his shorter blade residing there instead. That, in turn, was strapped to his back where his longsword should have been. Maybe there's a form that'll allow me to use my back scabbard. He made his way through fellow students to where Ji'alantin d'Grayson was waiting. Rav spotted Adrian picking his own way through the crowd.

They both stopped before the scarred Andoran, who commanded them to disarm. Rav pulled the longsword free with ease, but not before considering Unfolding the Fan. He drew the sword-breaker in the same motion, and placed both swords beside one another on a nearby rack. Taking the practice sword, he spun it a couple of times in his hand. He had grown up with a practice sword in hand, and knew a couple of tricks you could do with a wooden blade than would cut you with a real sword.

Ravak inclined his head to show that he had heard the orders from d'Grayson, then took a few steps back away from Adrian. The Soldier had a height advantage, and an age advantage. Then again, what do they actually teach southlanders about sword-fighting? The Shienaran wasn't a gambling man, but he would wager good odds that Borderland training was far fiercer than anything this Andoran had learnt.

Ravak moved into a familiar stance, left leg extended forwards, right foot back and facing out. He presented a narrow profile for Adrian to strike at, with the full length of his arm and sword in the way before then. He placed his weight onto the balls of his feet, and stepped towards the Soldier, pushing off with his back foot, keeping the steps short and light.

Ravak pushed towards Adrian, the two sticks clacking as they met between the men. Adrian moved forward with a horizontal slice, which Rav parried by pushing his own blade sideways in a vertical block. The Soldier tried to strike in the same fashion at his other flank, and he pushed the blade away again.

The Shienaran stepped closer after that second strike, not giving the taller man much time or space to block. Rav lashed out, trying to drive his sword into the man's left flank.

[Jenny]

Sparring? Adrian had sparred before, and often, first as a boy training with the quarterstaff preparing for the yearly competitions in his town, and later as part of his training in the army. But he still felt a twinge of nervousness. To spar under the watchful eye of the Ji'alantin, to face the Shienaran here in open public where some of the best fighters in the world trained - it was intimidating.

Adrian hefted the wooden weapon in his hand. The balance and weight was slightly different than steel, but felt similar enough for training purposes. He snuck an observant glance at Ravak. The Shienaran was left-handed; Adrian would have to guard himself differently than usual.

Ravak moved into position, his body gliding lithely like a cat. Adrian settled into his own position, a defensive two-handed crouch. With some effort, he fed his thoughts into the Flame. His anxiety disappeared, leaving him solely focused on his sword and Ravak. He floated in the Void. For a brief moment he considered seizing saidin, letting the sweetness of the Power wash over him - but he fought off the urge. Focus, Adrian! he thought.

Ravak moved forward. Adrian defended. Then he struck twice, with two quick horizontal slices, but his opponent swiftly blocked both.

Abruptly Ravak stepped closer and lashed out. There was no time to block; Adrian pivoted on his back right foot, twisting the left side of his body away. He expected to lose his balance, but somehow he recovered and settled back into his defensive crouch. As he turned, Ravak's sword brushed his shirt, but did not meet flesh. Seems like my practice with The Heron Wading in the Rushes has helped. The thought skid across the surface of the Void, and quickly faded.

Ravak was as good, or better, than any opponent he'd ever faced - other than perhaps his former Captain. He moved forward, trying to use his longer reach to his advantage and struck three times in a flurry of attacks. Then he saw an opening. His sword sliced through the air toward Ravak's right shoulder.

But even as he moved, Adrian sensed instinctively that he had somehow made a mistake. He had left his own right side exposed.