Training (Closed)
Holding his sword above a slime. He watched silently as it bounced and slid around. Swinging his sword down. He expected to hear a sickening sound of fluids flying all over the place. But, finding his sword hovering just over the slime. He smiled bitterly, teach had taught him a little too well.
Sighing, he looked down on the shivering slime and picked it up muttering “I swear if you bite me, I’ll be pissed.” not that the slime could understand him anyways.
Heading out of town and into the fields he dropped it off. Watching the shivering slime expression turn into one bouncing of happiness. He felt a little warm.
After that his morning routine had one more thing added to it. Training with the guards, scouting for information, and now dropping herb slimes he found back into the forest.
At night he constantly read the elemental tome he had bought previously and tried to practice magic without much luck.
Until one day during his training, he heard something weird from one of his sparring partners. His swordsmanship was becoming strangely aggressive and tricky to deal with. Sort of like a snake.
Hearing that he quickly went back to his room and grabbed a notebook from under the bed. There were crudely drawn sword stances and movements from what he had learned before from Felicia. But, as he tried going back to the basic stances she had taught him. He frowned as the movements that came to him easily before became uncomfortable and limiting.
No, he wasn’t going to fold that easily. Forcibly doing the basic stances every morning. His swordsmanship slowly returned to his old style. But, from time to time he found weaknesses, mistep, things to exploit. Sometimes it could be a sword swung too hard other times it was a small bit of hestration that left an opening either way his swordsmanship slowly shifted to exploiting those weaknesses rather than clashing.
Soon he moved from human targets to animals. Walking into the sewers, his nose wrinkled up on the smell. What’s worse was that he couldn’t see anything. But in here were giant rats and lurking in the water were the slimes.
With his footsteps echoing behind him he heard a growl come from in front of him. Unable to see he swung his sword forward.
Feeling a pulse of pain coming from his arm and the feedback from his sword hitting the ground. He forced himself to drop his sword to the ground and use his free arm to unstealth his dagger to plunge into the rats body.
With it not letting go, he stabbed it again and again and again until it was dead. With blood covering his clothes. He continued on. The dark made it difficult. The second rat he killed took two stabs before it went down. The third he was able to bash it with his sword and finish off. At twentyish he was able to figure out their patterns without getting injured. And at thirty he was forced to go back to the dorm.
To which he was forced to stay in bed for some time. With a lecture for his troubles and porridge to eat. And, a book to read and time to practice magic. The days passed by quickly.
By the time he was able get out of bed he gained the ability to summon sand. Not very useful, unless he wanted to blind his sparring partner.
Going back into the tunnels, he used what he learned from his previous encounters with them. The tunnel rats while big lacked the intelligence that their race was famed for. And, were evolved to be more territorial than their previous counterparts. Making their attacks more or less predictable.
With the sewers limiting their options to dashing to him in a straight line or jumping towards him if they wanted to attack him. The ones that jumped always were a guaranteed death sentence for them since he was already accustomed to the sound and which swing to use. Rather it was the ones that dashed at him that gave him trouble. Stabbing or slashing was good enough but he ran the risk of damaging his sword. So to prevent this he used the sheathed version of his sword. And, finished them off with his dagger.
Returning to the dorms, he continued this routine for a while. Until he decided he was ready to return to the guild.
Sighing, he looked down on the shivering slime and picked it up muttering “I swear if you bite me, I’ll be pissed.” not that the slime could understand him anyways.
Heading out of town and into the fields he dropped it off. Watching the shivering slime expression turn into one bouncing of happiness. He felt a little warm.
After that his morning routine had one more thing added to it. Training with the guards, scouting for information, and now dropping herb slimes he found back into the forest.
At night he constantly read the elemental tome he had bought previously and tried to practice magic without much luck.
Until one day during his training, he heard something weird from one of his sparring partners. His swordsmanship was becoming strangely aggressive and tricky to deal with. Sort of like a snake.
Hearing that he quickly went back to his room and grabbed a notebook from under the bed. There were crudely drawn sword stances and movements from what he had learned before from Felicia. But, as he tried going back to the basic stances she had taught him. He frowned as the movements that came to him easily before became uncomfortable and limiting.
No, he wasn’t going to fold that easily. Forcibly doing the basic stances every morning. His swordsmanship slowly returned to his old style. But, from time to time he found weaknesses, mistep, things to exploit. Sometimes it could be a sword swung too hard other times it was a small bit of hestration that left an opening either way his swordsmanship slowly shifted to exploiting those weaknesses rather than clashing.
Soon he moved from human targets to animals. Walking into the sewers, his nose wrinkled up on the smell. What’s worse was that he couldn’t see anything. But in here were giant rats and lurking in the water were the slimes.
With his footsteps echoing behind him he heard a growl come from in front of him. Unable to see he swung his sword forward.
Feeling a pulse of pain coming from his arm and the feedback from his sword hitting the ground. He forced himself to drop his sword to the ground and use his free arm to unstealth his dagger to plunge into the rats body.
With it not letting go, he stabbed it again and again and again until it was dead. With blood covering his clothes. He continued on. The dark made it difficult. The second rat he killed took two stabs before it went down. The third he was able to bash it with his sword and finish off. At twentyish he was able to figure out their patterns without getting injured. And at thirty he was forced to go back to the dorm.
To which he was forced to stay in bed for some time. With a lecture for his troubles and porridge to eat. And, a book to read and time to practice magic. The days passed by quickly.
By the time he was able get out of bed he gained the ability to summon sand. Not very useful, unless he wanted to blind his sparring partner.
Going back into the tunnels, he used what he learned from his previous encounters with them. The tunnel rats while big lacked the intelligence that their race was famed for. And, were evolved to be more territorial than their previous counterparts. Making their attacks more or less predictable.
With the sewers limiting their options to dashing to him in a straight line or jumping towards him if they wanted to attack him. The ones that jumped always were a guaranteed death sentence for them since he was already accustomed to the sound and which swing to use. Rather it was the ones that dashed at him that gave him trouble. Stabbing or slashing was good enough but he ran the risk of damaging his sword. So to prevent this he used the sheathed version of his sword. And, finished them off with his dagger.
Returning to the dorms, he continued this routine for a while. Until he decided he was ready to return to the guild.
