• Solo • Elements of sparring/spearing

[Oram Mednix]

30 Ymiden 720

Oram felt nervous as he approached the Elements Hall. A full season and much of a second had passed since he and Darius had volunteered to help the Elements during the recent Dusk Festival, and he was unsure whether the Land Troops would remember their contributions, or the agreement to offer free training in exchange for them. The receptionist’s response to his request did little to convince the hunter that they did. She gave him an appraising look, followed by a non-committal shrug, then pointed with her thumb behind her. ”Don’t know anything about that myself, and I’m not sure where Yarel is, but Jo is in the yard right now. Go ahead and talk to him.”

For a few trills after he had thanked the receptionist and walked on towards the yard, Oram fumbled to remember who “Jo” actually was, or what he looked like. The name sounded familiar, and the hunter felt somehow that he had met Jo. He could only hope recognition would come back once he laid eyes on the man.

To his relief, Oram’s hope came true as soon as he stepped out into the sand-strewn courtyard and surveyed the half-dozen Elements who were training there at the time. He recalled the man as the one who had briefed all the volunteers initially, the guy who had been playing with a knife at his desk when Oram had first seen him. But did Jo recall him?

The Land Assistant was teaching some sort of wrestling or disarming technique to the other gathered Troops; if he recognized or even noticed the newcomer he gave no immediate sign. Hesitating, Oram looked around the yard. There were racks along the enclosing walls, but there were only a handful of weapons in them, probably ones brought by the Elements who were currently training. Not sure what else to do, he sidled his way along the wall towards where Jo and the others were training. He was about ten paces away when the Land Assistant looked up at him.

”Take a breather, Troops” he said to a pair of Biqaj who were on the ground wrestling for control of a wooden dagger. Then Jo looked at Oram. ”Can I help you?” he called.

Oram cleared his throat. ”I…volunteered at the last Dusk Festival. I was wondering if I could get some sort of training.” He peered at the Land Assistant, searching his face for recognition or agreement. ”That was supposed to be our payment, I think?”

Jo gave a neutral nod. ”Name, and your Commander of Relief?”

Oram thought a moment. ”I’m Oram Mednix. I think my…relief officer was named Yarel. I patrolled with a Darius Baer and a guy named Gru.”

Jo frowned in thought for a moment, pursing his lips. ”Oram…Yarel…Da-” His eyes grew wide and bright. ”You were one of the guys who ran into the siren lights?”

Oram nodded, relieved.

The other Troops turned towards him with interest. ”That was real?” one of them asked.

The hunter nodded again. ”It was,” he said simply, not volunteering more.

Jo grinned. ”Well, your buddies Darius and Gru have already been here, some trials past. Makes you the straggler. What sort of training were you looking for?”

”Spear,” answered Oram.

Jo acknowledged with a matter-of-fact nod. ”No trainer available today, I’m afraid,” he announced, ”but Selenia can meet with you tomorrow. Be here bright and early. She hates latecomers.” The Land Assistant grinned wickedly. ”I should know; she’s my wife. And don’t think for one trill she can’t or won’t kick your butt.”

Jo turned and pointed in the direction of the practice dummies. ”The wasters and other practice weapons are under the gallery behind those dummies. Feel free to grab one and practice on your own with it this afternoon, if you like. You’ll need it.”

Oram peered where the Land Assistant pointed. He had not noticed the array of wooden weapons arrayed in racks in the shade behind the dummies before, but he could see them now. He nodded. ”I see them. Thank you, Jo. I’ll be here tomorrow.”

"He sounds like such a good man,"

[Oram Mednix]

Ho! Ha! Guard! Turn! Parry! Dodge! Spin! Ha! Thrust! *sprong*

Oram looked over the baffling array of wasters, poles, and mock-cudgels reclining in racks in the shade behind the practice dummies. None of the practice spears he could see had wings like his boar spear did, although there were a couple that were the right length. Taking one such, he stepped out in front of the ranks of straw enemies and paused. The hunter realized, to his embarrassment, that he had no real idea how to drill with a dummy. What would he practice, exactly? Blocks? Stances? Footwork?

At that moment there were no other Troops working with the dummies; the only other people in the courtyard were the small group practicing with Jo. No one for the hunter to imitate. Oram gazed glumly at the straw-stuffed burlap figure opposite him and tried to think. After a moment, he raised the spear in both hands and poked tentatively at the straw man’s belly. He could practice his attacks, of course, make sure he still had his reach right, see if he could direct his aim effectively, thrust from different directions and so on. That was it, that made sense, he decided.

Self-conscious at first, Oram adopted a fighting stance, or what he hoped was a fighting stance, and started thrusting at the dummy, trying to land blows in its chest first, then its head. Judging distance for a good strike was harder than it sounded. Pointing the spear up or down changed the reach slightly; one had to step in just a bit further for a good head or neck strike. After a few tries, though, he felt like he was starting to get the hang of it.

Once he was warmed up, Oram became a bit more adventurous, trying out combinations of thrusts, high, then low, then in the chest. Trying to do the combinations quickly caused his to lose some control, so that his tip went all over the place, sometimes missing the dummy’s head altogether. Undeterred, he went for his fearsome finishing move, a butt-stroke to the head. Letting out what he hoped was a fierce-sounding shout, the traveler twisted his body round and swung his hands across his body, so that the spear point spun back behind and the back-end of the weapon swung into view. But he had misjudged the reach of this new attack badly, and the butt flew round a good hand’s length in front of the dummy’s head. The front end of the weapon, on the other hand, struck home, and Oram swore as the wood struck his ear.

”Pretty sure that’s supposed to hit the other guy,” called a voice from Oram’s left, as the hunter put his hand to his ear to make sure he hadn’t drawn blood. He saw then to his dismay that the Troops who had been training with Jo were all watching him with obvious amusement, Jo included. Chuckling, the Land Assistant shook his head. ”She’s gonna have fun with you,” he said quietly. Then, more loudly, he called to the group to move on.

Seething, mortified, Oram watched the Troops as they withdrew, then turned to glare resentfully at the dummy. With a cry of frustration he thrust the wooden spear tip at its head, striking squarely where it’s nose would have been. That gave Oram some degree of satisfaction, so he repeated the thrust. Again and again he hit the thing, venting his frustration and humiliation upon its non-existent face, until a fist-sized gouge appeared where his attacks had dislodged the stuffing. Eventually, frustration gave way to fatigue, and at length he stopped, glumly returning the practice spear to its place among its peers. Feeling a bit better, but still unsatisfied, Oram slunk out of the yard and went home, trying to decide whether he would actually come the next morning to face this Selenia woman.

[Oram Mednix]

Like someone who attacks you with a pointed stick

On further reflection, Oram decided he would return to spar, after all. He wasn’t exactly going to get better at fighting if he let a little teasing discourage him, was he? And besides, what better way to get even with the nay-sayers than prove them wrong, yes? With such thoughts the traveler sought to cheer himself up as he returned to the Elements training yard the following morning. Oram considered himself an early riser, yet when he arrived there were already numerous Troops out and about, including some at the training dummies.

It did not take him long to find Selenia. She paced the far end of the yard, seeming to search the ground at her feet as if she had dropped something. Now and them she would pause and scratch a furrow in the sand at her feet. She paid no attention to Oram as he approached, or so he thought. When he had come to within eight paces she looked up, fixing him with opalescent eyes. Oram stopped short; he had not realized she was Biqaj. She looked him up and down; her expression was intent and unreadable.

After a moment she asked: ”Are you planning to grapple me?” without greeting or other preliminary. If there were any hint of amusement in her voice, Oram could not hear it. Flustered, he opened his mouth, but no words came out. He mutely shook his head.

The corners of the Biqaj’s mouth tightened. ”Throw rocks at me?” she ventured, in the same cool, unreadable tone. Embarrassed, Oram shook his head again. At least this time he found voice and words. ”N-no, ma’am. I wanted to train with spear.”

Selenia glanced pointedly down at the hunter’s empty hands. ”With an invisible spear, perhaps?” she demanded. Any humor suggested by the words was absent from her voice.

Once more, Oram’s mouth worked, but no words came out. This time, though, rather than being dumbfounded, he found himself choking back a torrent of aggrieved and defensive responses. He hadn’t wanted to approach a stranger with a weapon in hand; that had seemed rude. He didn’t want to presume, and intended to follow her instructions. He wasn’t an Element and didn’t know how these things worked. He couldn’t even be sure she was Selenia. In fact, since they had not been introduced, Oram *still* didn’t technically know for certain she was Selenia. And at this point, he was afraid to ask.

None of that passed his lips, however. ”I…I’d better get a spear, then,” he stammered, and turned hurriedly to retrieve one from the weapon racks.

The woman said nothing as Oram retreated. As he rummaged through the racks, taking far too long to pick out a spear, the traveler grumbled and seethed at himself, mainly for letting himself get flustered so easily by this woman. Osric had always teasingly wondered how it was that his brother could face down bears in the Sweetvine, but couldn’t work up the nerve to ask a girl to dance, nor stand up for himself when one teased him. When Oram came back with his spear, the biqaj was again drawing lines in the sand, seeming to ignore him.

Tentatively, he cleared his throat. Selenia continued to trace lines on the ground. ”I have a spear now,” he announced. The wooden sword-point lifted slightly off the ground, though the biqaj’s manner hardly seemed to change at all.

”Do you?” she drawled cooly. ”Prove it.”

Oram stared. Prove it? What did that mean? After shuffling his feet for a few trills, he took up the wooden pole uncertainly, adopted a stance, and took a tentative thrust towards the seemingly preoccupied biqaj. Nonchalantly, she stepped aside, grabbed the shaft with her off hand while bringing her waster up to point the tip at the hunter’s chest. Opalescent eyes met his and flashed. ”Try that again,” Selenia challenged. Without lowering her sword or taking her eyes off of Oram, she shoved the spear aside.

Collecting himself, the traveler retracted his weapon and poised himself for another attack. This time Selenia was giving him her full attention, gaze and sword both trained on him. She followed up smoothly as he tried to step from side to side to find an angle. Realizing this was no good, he gave up and decided to try a feint-high, thrust-low attack. That was a good trick.

He at least got the fleeting satisfaction of forcing Selenia to parry and move to avoid his thrust, but in the end she managed to bring her sword up and push down on the end of his spear, then slide the blade towards him, roughly grazing the fingers of his forward hand. Wincing, Oram yanked his spear free of the biqaj’s bind and tried to set for another attack, but Selenia was on him with her own counterattack so quickly he had to scramble backwards to avoid getting hit. She pressed and pressed, driving him several steps backwards before Oram lost his footing and fell.

Selenia stood over him, one foot pinning his spear to the ground. She grinned. ”Not so easy when it’s not a bobcat or a boar, eh? Get up.”

She stepped off the spear and allowed Oram to gather himself up. The iridescent eyes regarded him appraisingly. ”Jo told me about the siren lights,” she said, once more serious. ”Clearly, you’re brave and can fight. And I can see you’ve got the reach right and the basics of controlling your weapon. Perfect for sticking game, I imagine. But you have no footwork; a properly trained and armed foe would dance around you and cut you to pieces while you spun and stumbled about. Try again.”

Selenia stepped back and readied her waster. Oram, not knowing what else to do, answered in kind with his practice spear. The biqaj dipped her sword tip in invitation, those pearly eyes regarding him steadily. After hesitating for a few breaths, the hunter came in again, this time looking to hit down on Selenia’s sword and then thrust up at her face. With a quick sidestep she voided both moves, then lunged in with a thrust. Reflexively, Oram jerked his spear across his body to parry. The shaft knocked the sword aside, but it had been too wild and wide a move, and left him open. Selenia’s off hand darted forward and took hold of his spear once more, and with the flat of her waster she struck Oram on the crown of his head, causing him to swear and raise both hands to his head, dropping his spear in the process.

”No footwork,” she repeated. ”You have a much longer weapon than I do; you should be winning every pass. But you just come straight in, without ever stepping off line. And when you get in trouble you either stagger frantically backwards or you thrash your weapon around like you’re trying to swat flies with it.”

Oram abashedly picked up his spear while Selenia regarded him with a pursed, unimpressed expression. ”The rest of my trainees for today should be here in about a break,” she announced. ”I’ll pair you with Gavin; his footwork’s almost as hopeless as yours. Who knows? You might find a way to beat him.”

[Oram Mednix]

There is no way we could possibly do infinity push-ups.

The other trainees -proper Element troops, apparently- arrived a half break later. They were eight all told, and Selenia introduced Oram to each of them. The hunter had forgotten all their names within ten trills of shaking all their hands save one: Selenia had mentioned earlier that she would pair him with someone named “Gavin”, who turned out to be a younger, almost baby-faced man with a ginger complexion. He was a good head taller than Oram, but probably didn’t weigh much more. An awkward kid just finished a growth spurt, the traveler guessed. Just the sort to have two left feet.

Selenia had not been jesting about working on footwork. The lines and shapes she had been scratching in the sand earlier had not been random doodles. At her feet was traced a diamond shape, about a cubit’s length to a side. Opposite her was a row of nine further diamonds, and she instructed each of the group to stand behind the far corner of one, facing her. The other trainees clearly knew their trainer’s moods, for they complied quickly and neatly, giving the squares a wide berth as they filed around, so as not to step on them.

Selenia then showed them a series of maneuvers that took one around the square without touching the lines: step off obliquely with left foot, bring the right behind it. Step straight forward, then sideways to the right, then back-stepping around to get back to the start. It seemed easy enough at first, if somewhat tedious; it reminded Oram of when one of the girls in his camp had tried to teach him a dance.

Then Selenia called out for them to do it faster. Then faster still. It was brisk, and Oram felt warmed up, but it was not especially exhausting for the hunter. Most of his fatigue he felt was mental, from his focus on trying to keep from stepping on the square. After a few bits of this, Selenia called for a stop. She then walked them through a similar drill going around the square in the opposite direction, as before slowly at first, then speeding up.

Oram found himself getting flustered a bit once the pace picked up. He had just about had the feel of the first circuit, going around the diamond clockwise, but as he went around the other way, he wanted lead off with the same foot as before, and started to get flustered. More than once he stumbled as he got his feet crossed, then at last he lost his balance altogether and collapsed to the ground. Selenia scowled; some of the Troops snickered. ”Get up and keep going Oram!” the biqaj called out firmly. ”Keep up the pace and don’t stop! Don’t cross your feet! And keep your body over your feet!” She danced about her own diamond, feet flying over the ground in a way that would have made that girl proud. Getting up, Oram tried again, concentrating on not crossing his feet. Looking sidelong, Oram was gratified to see that poor Gavin was only doing somewhat better than himself. Also, when they were finished, Gavin and some of the other guys were breathing harder than Oram was. At least the hunter was in decent shape, however many left feet he had.

But now the hard part came. Selenia told them to get their spears; now they were going to do the footwork exercises with their weapons in hand. Selenia walked them through a series of thrusts, swings and parries that she wanted them to execute this time, as they rounded the diamond: thrust left off line, rip around, sweep up right, high guard back, parry right, parry left. The others seemed to know all these moves cold. Oram knew the thursts and low parries, but not the high maneuvers he was supposed to execute at the front of the diamond; all he could do was wave his spear vaguely upwards and look foolish doing so.

That was going through the moves by the numbers. As soon as the tempo picked up, things got worse; Oram forgot the sequence of moves he was supposed to be doing; also, every time he struggled to transfer from parry right to parry left he would poke himself in the belly. By the time everybody was going full speed, the traveler was doing little more than waggling his practice spear around randomly. He did manage to keep his footing, though, at least while they were moving clockwise around the diamond. Moving counterclockwise, he began to stumble again from time to time, nearly falling more than once. Miraculously, he did not, nor did he drop his weapon.

Gavin was not so lucky with the latter. Out of the corner of his eye, Oram saw the stick drop from the young man’s hands, and heard him hiss an oath. Selenia shot Gavin a burning, imperious look and pointed to the ground. ”Go down with it!” she commanded. Oram did not know what that meant, but Gavin apparently did. The Troop quickly got on his hands and knees, then lifted his knees and started doing pushups. Anxious as he was to avoid the same fate, Oram did not have the concentration to spare on seeing how many pushups Gavin did before Selenia called a halt to the drill. By the time they were done, everybody was breathing pretty hard, some, including Gavin, especially hard.

[Oram Mednix]

Oof

At last, after the footwork drills, Selenia had the trainees line up behind the long parallel lines facing each other. It was time for them to spar. As promised, she paired Oram with Gavin. Picking a “volunteer” to be her own partner, the Troop walked through the steps she wanted them to practice. It was, as she pointed out, a similar sequence to what they had just done in the footwork drills: step forward with a low/middle thrust, step forward right while sweeping up high, then forward right with a downward thrust. While one person attacked this way, the other was to step back with the appropriate parries. ”Or,” the biqaj offered, casting a meaningful glance at Oram as she did: ”you can just try voiding the attack by stepping away, if you think your feet are quick enough.”

The hunter swallowed apprehensively, the more so as Selenia asked the row Gavin was on to go on the attack first. To Oram’s relief, though, they first went through everything by the numbers, so he could figure out what sort of parry to use for each thrust slowly. And again, he got to watch Gavin’s and other trainees’ parries when he went through his attack by the numbers.

That assurance evaporated quickly once Selenia shouted for them to go at full speed. Gavin came in with his first thrust which Oram handled just fine, but then Gavin swept up, and the hunter found his spear completely out of position for the downward thrust, which he only managed to avoid by backpedalling furiously, almost tripping in the process. Then his turn came to attack. He could take consolation in the fact that his opponent’s form and footwork weren’t much better than his own, and Gavin, too, nearly stumbled and fell scrambling back out of his thrust.

Oram determined to do better on his second pass. Again Gavin came at him low, then swept up high. This time when Gavin was in his high sweep position, Oram leaned in and pushed forcibly up with his own spear shaft before his advesary could start his downward thrust. This managed to foil the attack, although it left Oram completely open and off balance. Only Gavin’s own surprise, combined with the fact that they were doing drills and not a real fight, gave the traveler time to bring his spear back into position for his own riposte. All the other trainees seemed to cycle through all the motions smoothly, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, until Gavin’s tip jammed him in the solar plexus.

All the air left Oram’s body and he crumpled to the ground. His eyes teared up as he gasped for air, for several trills unsuccessfully. In those trills, he wondered if he had been seriously injured. Then, with a cough and several agonizing gasps, his breath returned. By the time his eyes cleared, Selenia was standing over him with a look of concern, while Gavin stood rooted and regarded his stricken adversary with wide-eyed terror. Selenia talked to him, asking Oram if he could speak. He tried. He couldn’t; he could only manage a weak vocal cough. The biqaj watched him closely, probably looking to see if he would cough up blood. He didn’t. Eventually, she seemed to satisfy herself that he would be alright. She patted him on the shoulder and then returned to shouting at the rest of the trainees to keep at it.

Oram stayed down on one knee for nearly a half bit more while Gavin stood and watched him, his face pale as a sheet. Even though he was the one hurt, Oram found himself pitying the kid. ”I’m fine,” he choked out, as soon as he could speak again. ”I’ll get up again in a moment.” In fact, he was pretty sure it was a good number of moments before he rose wobblingly to his feet at last with the help of his spear. He stood thus, leaning against his spear, watching the remaining troops spar so competently with their spears until Selenia commanded a pause, during which she came by to check on the hapless gypsy once more.

”Not as easy as it looks, eh, Oram?” she asked, with a grim smile. Oram tried to answer with a brave smile, was pretty sure he didn’t succeed. Selenia clapped him on the shoulder. ”Well, you’re alive, and hopefully you learned something. That’s a win. Quite frankly, I’m pleased you even showed up this morning. Want to impress me again? Show up again for more abuse some time. I understand you’re good for two more training sessions with us. Only thing I would suggest is that you check ahead of time what elements we’re going to train on, so you’ll be a bit better prepared. Until then, I think you’re done for today. Give me your weapon and go home.”

Feeling humiliated, for all the Troop’s reassuring words, Oram meekly handed his practice spear to the woman, and then turned to wave goodbye to Gavin before slinking off the training grounds.

[Doran]

Oram:

Knowledge:
Combat (Polearms & Staves) x 3
Discipline x 1
Endurance x 1
Strength x 1

Loot: -
Lost: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: Oram is partially incapacitated for one trial (31-32 Ymiden) and has a nasty bruise/is sore for 5 trials after.
Renown: 5, for training with the Elements.
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 10

- - -

Comments: I love those headlines/titles. Please never stop doing them!

That being said, I couldn’t help but wonder why Oram waited more than a season after he helped out during the Dusk Festival. It would have been interesting to find out the reason for that!

Oram’s confusion when it comes to how to drill with a dummy was described very well in my opinion – and it was quite entertaining on top of it. I like in how much detail you wrote about it. I have to admit, I chuckled a bit when the wood hit Oram instead of his “enemy”!

Selenia had a really “interesting” personality. I had the impression that Oram was at least slightly intimidated by her. At the same time, she is obviously a good teacher. The idea for learning footwork, with the lines and shapes in the sand was quite clever in my opinion.

Training threads can be hard to write, but I think you did a good job here. You played Oram’s Competent Spear skill well in my opinion. Oram obviously knows a bit, but he is still unsure a lot and makes mistakes, and Selenia is very obviously much better than he is. And while he seems to be quite decent at hunting animals, he still has to learn a lot about fighting people!

I’m impressed by how thorough you were. I like that you didn’t just have him fight Selenia, but also had him train with the trainees. Hopefully, he’ll recover from his exhausting training quickly!

That being said, you didn’t ask for any Renown, but in my opinion, you deserve a little for this thread.

The Elements definitely noticed Oram’s training!

Furthermore, you requested knowledges for "Combat: Spear". According to the Combat writeup, each school is its own skill. Within that school, you have access to all weapons.

For that reason, I've changed your knowledges to "Combat (Polearms & Staves)".

Enjoy your rewards!