Much better. So much better. The Gaidin's mind stayed busy as they exchanged blows, forming a mental checklist of all the things he wanted to go over with the Arafellin in later sessions. The hardest work would be getting the man out of his head and into simple, reflexive movements. Bad habits would break as new ones were formed. Dax could not imagine what could have caused any fighting man to simply stop practicing, but whatever the cause of Alrim's apathy had been, the time had passed for him to get back to work.
The bout did not last long; for someone out of practice a sword was a heavy thing, and Dax had no desire to damage his student. He did not hold back, either, however. If Alrim left an opening he took it, explaining why and how it could have been countered, after shifting back to guard. Soon enough he saw the younger man’s arms begin to tremble, the glistening sweat running down his face from the effort of holding the lathes, moving his body, maintaining proper posture. You still use too much force. A thing to address another time.
The Tairen’s parting blow was neither kind nor respectful; the last thing he expected was for the Drin to turn and fall back into guard, but it happened. Dax held his hands up to indicate he was done, his face and body at ease. “That was good. Much improved in just the short time I had you. After a week, you’ll be a new man; after a year, I hope you look back on today and laugh.” He took the lathe from Alrim, then turned to lead them both to the weapons rack where they belonged.
“I have a few other students that meet mid-afternoon five times a week to train,” he said. “You’re a bit more advanced than they are in sheer knowledge, but you need to work on posture and control. I’ll let Julian know you’ll be joining me for a bit.” He racked the practice weapons, then turned to look at the yard, stretching with his hands behind his head.
“It’s late in the day, and you’re half a bell late for your last class as-is,” the Gaidin commented, glancing at the sun. “I’m going to get a drink and some food in the city if you’d care to join me. You deserve it.” The words felt odd coming out of his mouth; how long since he had invited a companion along? Somehow he did not regret the offer.
OOC: Fin.The bout did not last long; for someone out of practice a sword was a heavy thing, and Dax had no desire to damage his student. He did not hold back, either, however. If Alrim left an opening he took it, explaining why and how it could have been countered, after shifting back to guard. Soon enough he saw the younger man’s arms begin to tremble, the glistening sweat running down his face from the effort of holding the lathes, moving his body, maintaining proper posture. You still use too much force. A thing to address another time.
The Tairen’s parting blow was neither kind nor respectful; the last thing he expected was for the Drin to turn and fall back into guard, but it happened. Dax held his hands up to indicate he was done, his face and body at ease. “That was good. Much improved in just the short time I had you. After a week, you’ll be a new man; after a year, I hope you look back on today and laugh.” He took the lathe from Alrim, then turned to lead them both to the weapons rack where they belonged.
“I have a few other students that meet mid-afternoon five times a week to train,” he said. “You’re a bit more advanced than they are in sheer knowledge, but you need to work on posture and control. I’ll let Julian know you’ll be joining me for a bit.” He racked the practice weapons, then turned to look at the yard, stretching with his hands behind his head.
“It’s late in the day, and you’re half a bell late for your last class as-is,” the Gaidin commented, glancing at the sun. “I’m going to get a drink and some food in the city if you’d care to join me. You deserve it.” The words felt odd coming out of his mouth; how long since he had invited a companion along? Somehow he did not regret the offer.
