A new blade (Fanfic)

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Welcome to the Warder Yards. This is the place for Warder and Trainee roleplays. Informal non-training interactions take place here, as well as some extended role plays. Yet these events may take place at any area of the Tower, and sometimes outside of it, since the images to the left merely serves as inspiration towards the sceneries of your stories. Channelers are always welcome, and might even find his or her bondmate through the threads that are displayed below.
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Lugh
"The Eye of the World"
Posts: 44
Joined: January 5th, 2018, 4:51 am

A new blade (Fanfic)

Post by Lugh » January 23rd, 2018, 7:46 pm

Beron
Beron sighed in relief as he finished the last of his chore for the afternoon period. The chime ringing out through the Armoury was sounding its last as he capped the vial of polish and set the leather he had been conditioning away.

His next task was open time for developing his weapon skills. As a borderlander bred, he had quickly established a level of competence with his teachers. This meant he was free to explore a little more on his own initiative, and luckily the Armoury provided a vast array of equipment.

One thing that had quickly come to his attention during his first days in class, was that the Grey Tower was not the oasis of safety he had imagined. Darkfriends, Seanchan and others had all attacked the men and women of the Grey Tower, although it remained a bastion of strength and had regrouped stronger than ever.

With all of this in mind, Beron decided to work with daggers. With Trollocs and such as your foe; he had been taught to wield a bow and sword to counter the enemy. But there would be many instances where he could not bear a sword or bow, and for those times a dagger would at least provide him with a blade.

As he looked over the various weapons on display, he passed over the larger hunting knives and similar blades. He was looking for something a little smaller, more easily kept on his person and he finally spied the dagger he was looking for. Near the throwing daggers, which he grabbed one to practice with ; he found a simple Ballock dagger. It was smaller, but very well weighted for balance. He liked the cross guard on it as it would prevent his hand from sliding onto the cutting edge, and protect his fingers to some degree.

After obtaining permission from the Ji’val overseeing the Armoury, Beron took his daggers to the sands for practice. The grip of the dagger was comfortable, the hilt sitting comfortably in his grip as Beron settled into his warm up. As he slid through the exercises he had been taught to warm and stretch his muscles, Beron allowed his hand to get a sense of the dagger’s balance. He had trained for many years with a sword and his hands and arms were used to the strain of the larger weapon; the dagger was light and easy to hold by comparison.

Soon he ended his exercises, and Beron launched into a series of attacks against the target dummy. He was awkward at first, all of his swordwork had trained the blade into his memory until it had become an extension of his arm. With the much shorter length, Beron was forced to close the distance to the target. His feet moving smoothly he closed the gap quickly, and he focused on practicing forms that relied less on sweeping attacks and more on short jabs and slashes. The forms he used were for the sword, but modified for his dagger’s length, and Beron found himself wondering if there was a tradition of dagger forms he could inquire into.

The other thought that ran through his mind as he tried to work on a series of attacks, blocks and defences, was that dagger fighting would require more grappling and arm locks than he had initial considered. Looks like it’s unarmed for me after all Beron thought with a sigh of regret for the further free time lost. Still, he knew that the Warders of the Grey Tower earned their skill and he was just beginning to see how deeply and how broadly those skills were cultivated.

After finishing the set of punching jabs he was practicing, Beron moved over to the target range and set up the stout wooden post. He had seen a few others practicing their throw and so he judged a short distance that wouldn’t require as much force.

Grabbing the hilt of the blade, Beron gave himself a moment to feel the weight of the blade before he cast it out towards the target with a strong snap of his wrist. The blade slid through air weakly and landed short of the target in the sand, much to his surprise.

The dagger had not flown at all the way he had expected it to, he had imagined it would be much like an arrow lancing through the air. Retrieving the dagger and making a note to bring more next time, Beron walked back to the line. Once there he again lined up his stance and heaved again, this time using his arm and wrist. The dagger flew but was still ugly and barely reached the target. As Beron walked to pick the dagger up, he noticed the weapon had turned in its flight, a detail he had missed the last time. Turning the blade in his hand, he recalled the lessons he had attended on the farm, learning archery under the sharp eyes of his father and uncle. He had learned over time to account for the way an arrow fell in it’s flight, even the slight bend that affected the shaft as it snapped out of the weapon, and clearly he needed to account for the spin of the blade here.

Taking up his stance, he paused for a moment to consider the flow of the attack he was planning. It made little sense to snap the blade from his hip if it needed the time to spin. And so this time he cocked his arm up and back behind his ear, smoothly scything through the air and releasing the blade.

Thunk Beron was rewarded with the sound of the blade striking wood, before it fell once more to the sand. It had struck too shallow, and lacked the power to strike deep enough into the wood. Still he was glad to have hit the target, no matter how wide a throw it had been. Like everything else at the Grey Tower so far, the rest would come down to practice and the will to slowly perfect his skills.

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