He woke early, his quarters were a mess, littered with half open history books gathered from across the town. He was hoping for news that his men had returned from escorting the caravan north to Thrensen, but there was none. That meant they were three days overdue and late deliveries were never good for business. There was, of course, nothing he could do that would alter the outcome now, worrying would only distract him from other pressing matters; he’d sent Jonathan because he was a steady pair of hands, not particularly creative, but tenacious and reliable, if anyone could bring the group home it was him.
As he walked around the guild, the morning sun streaming through the windows, the responsibility of the situation weighed heavy on his mind… had he sent men to die? Would he have to again? Until this point in his life Thalon had only really been responsible for himself and those that he travelled with. Now it was guardsmen, guild members and the people of Sanctuary who all looked to him for answers, for strategy, for protection. He wouldn’t fail them. He would steel his mind and temper his resolve, if he was willing to do something; he had to be willing to send others to do the same. Only this way, by forging men and women who shared his vision, would he truly be able to change the world.
Lost in his thoughts he wandered into one of the training rooms, without thinking he picked up a wooden sword and began to practice movement drills… step left, slash, duck, cut, drop right, spin. The actions were fluid, without armour he almost danced around the dummy, the hulking elf showing a grace that belied his size. Effortlessly he placed strikes in positions he knew left few opportunities for an opponent to parry or return. As the sweat dripped from his body he felt his worries fall away, becoming more distant with every blow, so far away in fact that he failed to notice Thomas approach from behind until it was almost too late.
As Thomas swung his sword sharply from the right Thalon dropped to one knee and brought his wooden blade over his head to deflect strike, as the same moment he kicked out and hooked his foot around Thomas’ knee. With the young warrior already off balance from his blow it was easy for Thalon to pivot his leg and drop Thomas where he stood using the momentum to bring him back to a standing position, blade pointed squarely at Thomas’s chest.
“How in the hell’s did you hear me coming?” Said Thomas. “You should know better than to try sneaking up on an elf” said Thalon “we all have pretty sharp hearing… that, and you approached me with the sun to your back, I could see your shadow on the floor!”. Thomas laughed “well done then boss, you clean got the better of me there”. “It’s just training” Thalon said, breathing heavily “practice enough and it becomes automatic. Just like wearing armour, anyone can put on a suit of plate, but it takes years to move in it like I do, to make it a second skin with all the power and grace that affords”. Thomas grinned “So when are you showing us how to do that?”. “How about tonight?” said Thalon “I’ll also let a few of the guard know what’s going on, some of them might like the practice too and it gives an opportunity to show off the guild at the same time, maybe attract some new members”. “Always thinking there aren’t you boss?” said Thomas “Whenever I can” grinned Thalon “but for now let’s see if I can’t teach you a thing or two about sword work… you have a real tendency to leave yourself open when you swing for a high blow”.
The two sparred for a couple of hours, Thalon pointing out the weaknesses in Thomas’ form and position, testing each guard and honing every strike until even he was impressed with the young warriors abilities. “Might make a knight out of you yet” said Thalon from across the room as the two finished training. “really?” said Thomas. “Yeah… come find me tomorrow and we can work some more on this, but next time in armour so it’s more challenging” said Thalon “for now, get this place cleaned up and ready for tonight please, I’ve got some work to do before we hold a class here”.
Thalon walked back to his quarters dabbing the sweat from his brow, slowly he dropped into his chair. “Before I can make men into knights, I need more than ideals for them to strive for; I need a code, a set of virtues that I can train them to follow, ones that will help to shape their destiny” he thought to himself. Carefully he picked up one of the books from the floor and began to read, plastered across it’s spine in gold text it read ‘A History of the White Circle’.
As he walked around the guild, the morning sun streaming through the windows, the responsibility of the situation weighed heavy on his mind… had he sent men to die? Would he have to again? Until this point in his life Thalon had only really been responsible for himself and those that he travelled with. Now it was guardsmen, guild members and the people of Sanctuary who all looked to him for answers, for strategy, for protection. He wouldn’t fail them. He would steel his mind and temper his resolve, if he was willing to do something; he had to be willing to send others to do the same. Only this way, by forging men and women who shared his vision, would he truly be able to change the world.
Lost in his thoughts he wandered into one of the training rooms, without thinking he picked up a wooden sword and began to practice movement drills… step left, slash, duck, cut, drop right, spin. The actions were fluid, without armour he almost danced around the dummy, the hulking elf showing a grace that belied his size. Effortlessly he placed strikes in positions he knew left few opportunities for an opponent to parry or return. As the sweat dripped from his body he felt his worries fall away, becoming more distant with every blow, so far away in fact that he failed to notice Thomas approach from behind until it was almost too late.
As Thomas swung his sword sharply from the right Thalon dropped to one knee and brought his wooden blade over his head to deflect strike, as the same moment he kicked out and hooked his foot around Thomas’ knee. With the young warrior already off balance from his blow it was easy for Thalon to pivot his leg and drop Thomas where he stood using the momentum to bring him back to a standing position, blade pointed squarely at Thomas’s chest.
“How in the hell’s did you hear me coming?” Said Thomas. “You should know better than to try sneaking up on an elf” said Thalon “we all have pretty sharp hearing… that, and you approached me with the sun to your back, I could see your shadow on the floor!”. Thomas laughed “well done then boss, you clean got the better of me there”. “It’s just training” Thalon said, breathing heavily “practice enough and it becomes automatic. Just like wearing armour, anyone can put on a suit of plate, but it takes years to move in it like I do, to make it a second skin with all the power and grace that affords”. Thomas grinned “So when are you showing us how to do that?”. “How about tonight?” said Thalon “I’ll also let a few of the guard know what’s going on, some of them might like the practice too and it gives an opportunity to show off the guild at the same time, maybe attract some new members”. “Always thinking there aren’t you boss?” said Thomas “Whenever I can” grinned Thalon “but for now let’s see if I can’t teach you a thing or two about sword work… you have a real tendency to leave yourself open when you swing for a high blow”.
The two sparred for a couple of hours, Thalon pointing out the weaknesses in Thomas’ form and position, testing each guard and honing every strike until even he was impressed with the young warriors abilities. “Might make a knight out of you yet” said Thalon from across the room as the two finished training. “really?” said Thomas. “Yeah… come find me tomorrow and we can work some more on this, but next time in armour so it’s more challenging” said Thalon “for now, get this place cleaned up and ready for tonight please, I’ve got some work to do before we hold a class here”.
Thalon walked back to his quarters dabbing the sweat from his brow, slowly he dropped into his chair. “Before I can make men into knights, I need more than ideals for them to strive for; I need a code, a set of virtues that I can train them to follow, ones that will help to shape their destiny” he thought to himself. Carefully he picked up one of the books from the floor and began to read, plastered across it’s spine in gold text it read ‘A History of the White Circle’.
No comments:
Post a Comment