Winter. Gildin Dale. The Lands Farque. The Southlands.
The knight, Sir Percavellé Lé Dic walks behind the line of recruits, watching them at their sword craft.
He knows not all of them will be experts with the sword. But they all have to be skilled and proficient with it.
Like they do with all the weapons they're given while training here in the town of Gildin Dale, here in the northwest of the lands Farque.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic. Can easily see how all the teenagers have been taught the sword since they were small children.
None of them are afraid of their weapons. Which are all naked steel. As they use real blades to train with. And not practice swords. Which are usually heavy wooden wands, shaped like a sword.
The idea of practice swords has never come about here in the lands Farque.
The former paladin in the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che, suspects it's why pretty much everyone he's met here in the lands Farque, knows how to use a sword.
They're in the town hall, which is attached to the learning center where the town's children have their lessons.
Those children are also taught sword work here in the hall too. But this morning, it's one of the group of ten recruits who are training with their swords in here.
And sir Percavellé Lé Dic or Percy as more often than not, he's called by those who know him well.
Is helping to train the army recruits this morning, as outside there's snow falling. Rather heavily too, and has been since the middle of last night.
Actually taking the lesson this morning is the avenger sir Morcin.
Who only trains one of the groups every few days or so. As he's busy with his other duties most of the time.
Most important of which is that he's the sentinel for this area in the northwest of the lands Farque.
And for being the chief tutor in the learning center next door. As he has taught the children in this part of his lord's lands, for centuries.
The former earl of Lé Dic, which is his family's fief in the east of the kingdom of Druvic.
Looks away to his right, and sourly smiles as he sees his bitter rival, the ork general, Dorc da Orc.
Sitting in a corner of the town hall, fast asleep, snoring as he does so.
The nobleborn knight, is just glad the large ork isn't snoring as loudly as he can.
Which can be very loud, and very annoying in the opinion of the nobleman who is originally from the kingdom of Druvic.
Percy stops behind one of the recruits. Garmon if he remembers the youngster's name correctly.
Who he recalls carries around a broadsword, usually strapped to his back.
But this morning, the teenager, who is the largest of the recruits in the group if ten. Is using a longsword like the others in his group.
And though he'd probably prefer his heavier and wider blade. He's still probably the best at handling a longsword in the group.
If sir Percavellé Lé Dic is honest with his assessment. Which to be honest, he is.
The heavily armoured knight, who is helmless at the moment. As his full helm is on one of the benches pushed up against the walls here in the town hall this morning.
The former paladin who has no rank in the armies of Farque, infact he's not actually in it.
And his presence, not just here in the small town of Gildin Dale, and for that matter in the lands of Farque itself.
Is only tolerated because he's one of the group who in recent years, has been traveling with the lord and ruler of the lands Farque.
The nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic looks at sir Morcin who is standing infront of the line of recruits, and nods his head.
The avenger, who Percy doesn't know isn't alive. Infact he doesn't know about any of the undead of the lands Farque.
Has told the former paladin in the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che to pick out the three recruits who he thinks are the best with a longsword in this group of ten.
The heavily armoured knight then goes and stands behind young Dammis, and nod. Then finally behind Hamblin and nod.
For out of this group of recruits, he thinks those three teenage boys are the best with the longsword.
"Cease" says sir Morcin the undead avenger, who rarely speaks in a loud voice.
The recruits come to a halt. And stand at ease, when the undead avenger tells them "We shall have a brief demonstration".
The nobleborn knight slightly winces after sir Morcin tells him "Sir Percavellé if you would come up front, so we can show the recruits something".
"Of course" says sir Percavellé Lé Dic in faint cheer, as he doesn't particularly want to spar with the avenger. As the previous times he has, he has taken a drubbing from the rather unassuming fellow.
Who isn't particularly tall, or strong looking. Who doesn't wear much in the way of armour. If any at times, like he is this morning.
As sir Morcin is only wearing a dark padded tunic over his shirt. And only leather trousers and boots.
The former earl of Lé Dic, is just glad the avenger and the recruits are speaking the common tongue this morning, and not elven, which he has absolutely no idea about.
He makes his way forward, and slightly bows to the nobleman, whose homeland no longer exists.
"The Cavandor El Mardillé pattern if you please sir Percavellé" says sir Morcin, followed by "The first technique only" the undead avenger then adds "You shall be the attacker, i will defend".
"Very well" says sir Percavellé Lé Dic, who then lifts a questioning eyebrow, when the avenger tells him "Full speed, hold nothing back".
"If you say so" murmurs the former paladin, who goes over and gets his full helm, and puts it on.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic draws his longsword, as sir Morcin takes his to hand, from across his back.
"Watch closely and observe" says the undead avenger to the group of teenage recruits.
And with a nod of his head, sir Morcin says to the foreign born knight "Begin".
Without any pretense, sir Percavellé Lé Dic walks forward and attacks using the technique of the famous swordmaster from half a millennia ago.
Sir Morcin, who infact was actually taught by the swordmaster Cavandor El Mardillé's son.
Just stands there, with the tip of his longsword pointing down at the floor of the hall.
Which causes Percy for an instant to sourly smile, as he has seen lord Farque himself do that numerous times, in both battle and whilst sparring.
Nevertheless, the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic swings his longsword as hard and as fast as he can at the neck of the smaller man.
The avenger's blade comes up, and easily blocks the vicious blow from the former earl of Lé Dic.
Then the member of the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che. Who knows the pattern off by heart. As it's a rather well known technique taught to just about everyone who learns the longsword.
Uses all of his skill and technique of nearly thirty five years of wielding a longsword, to try and hit the avenger. Who Percy doesn't know, has the advantage of being undead.
Even then, sir Morcin doesn't use those advantages at all. As he defends against the heavily armoured knight who doesn't hold back at all.
The undead avenger slips his opponents blade away with every powerful swing from sir Percavellé's weapon.
The former earl of Lé Dic, who isn't just swinging his sword quickly, but also powerfully.
Grunts with the effort to try and strike the undead avenger within the Cavandor El Mardillé pattern.
The nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic, who is both a landed and an ordered knight.
Finds himself wielding his longsword like he hasn't done in many a long year.
He's precise, and accurate with each swing of his sword. Whether it be at his opponents legs, arms, groin or head.
Though he thinks he might hit any number of times, which would be fatal to an ordinary opponent.
Sir Morcin is no ordinary sparring partner. He's able to block every single sword stroke from the former earl of Lé Dic.
Who finds that in no time, he's done all twelve strikes of the first technique of Cavandor El Mardillé's pattern at least a handful of times.
Before the undead sentinel for this area of northwestern Farque. Steps back, and nods. In the time honoured way of ceasing mock combat.
Breathing a bit, sir Percavellé steps back too, and slightly bows to his opponent.
Percy, who is a braggart, and lets face it, a total blowhard at times. Will freely admit when he's faced someone far more skillful than he is.
Especially when his bitter rival is fast asleep in a corner of the town hall. Who didn't see what actually happened.
"Very good" says sir Morcin the avenger, who then looks at the teenage recruits, who have been watching with interest.
"Now, watch carefully again" says the undead being, who died four and half centuries ago, in the same battle where his lord was killed.
"This time sir Percavellé, repeat the pattern, but move much more slowly" adds the avenger who is the head tutor of the small town's learning center.
As the nobleman from the kingdom of Druvic frowns, sir Morcin asks him "You have seen how the monk Shur Kee practices his unarmed fighting techniques by himself?".
"Ah yes" says sir Percavellé Lé Dic, who continues with "I see what you mean, wot" as he understands what the avenger wants him to do.
The former paladin who has lifted up the visor of his helm, closes it. And with a nod he steps forward to indicate he's ready.
Sir Morcin nods in return, steps forward to signify he's ready too.
The nobleborn knight who is a member of the order of the Knights of Sanit Mar-che.
Swings his longsword, slowly at his opponents neck with the first move of the technique.
And with the ten young recruits watching with intent. The undead avenger defends himself, moving his blade just as slowly.
Percy as he progresses through the first technique of Cavandor El Mardillé's pattern.
He finds that moving so slowly, both his longsword, and himself, especially his footwork. Is a hell of a lot harder than one would think.
Infact, the former earl of Lé Dic finds it more difficult than doing it at full speed, as hard and as quickly as possible.
In this way, he has to control his movement a lot more. And he can't use his momentum to go from one sword strike to the next.
The nobleborn knight finds that his sword arm is badly shaking, and he's breathing far more heavily and quickly than he was previously. Once he comes to the end of the famous swordmaster's pattern.
While his opponent he sees, hasn't even broken out in a sweat.
After the two of them step back, sir Morcin looks at the ten teenagers, who are one of the groups of recruits, based here in the town of Gildin Dale this winter.
And he says to them "Did you all see all twelve sword strokes of the pattern?".
After they all nod yes, the undead avenger tells them "Very well, pair off, and you shall practice this pattern".
The nobleman whose birth nation no longer exists, continues with "Spar slowly, just as sir Percavellé and i did just then" followed by "As you know, though physically difficult, this is the easiest way to learn a sword pattern" he briefly pauses, then adds in a slightly dry tone of voice "And the easiest way to prevent injuries, and death".
As the teenage recruits pair off, and start practicing the pattern in the circles marked off on the floor.
The former paladin in the order of the Knights of Sanit Mar-che wanders over to one of the benches pushed up against the walls, here in the town hall.
After taking off his full helm, he wipes his face and head with the cloth he draped over the back of the bench earlier.
Then taking one of the mugs on the bench, he fills it up with water from one of the pitchers.
"Ah by Narille that's good" murmurs sir Percavellé Lé Dic in satisfaction after drinking the mug of water.
The nobleman who hails from the kingdom of Druvic, where he was once the earl of Lé Dic.
Looks away to the corner where his bitter rival Dorc da Orc is, thinking about dumping one of the pitchers of water on the sleeping ork general.
The nobleborn knight sourly smiles as he sees the large ork has just woken up, and is yawning as he looks around. No doubt wondering what's going on.
As the big, burly ork from the southern polar region of the world only came into the town hall because he followed his rival the former earl of Lé Dic in here. Before the lesson got underway with the group of recruits.
The ork warleader who also fell asleep before the sword training got underway just after dawn.
Sits up, and sourly smiles as he watches the paired off recruits going slowly through the first technique of the Cavandor El Mardillé pattern.
Sir Percavellé Lé Dic rolls his eyes, and murmurs "Disgusting green demon" after hearing Dorc da Orc loudly mutter "Just fucken hit each other".
Then before the ork weaponsmith can truly get going, sir Morcin the avenger calls over the general in the armies of Farque.
Picking up his full helm, the former paladin in the order of the Knights of Saint Mar-che makes his way over to the avenger too.
"You want me to practice against this fucken knight cunt?" asks Dorc da Orc with a nod of his head at the nobleborn knight from the kingdom of Druvic.
Switching to the ork language, the warleader of the ork race adds in a mutter "Me will chop off the cunt's head and shit down his neck when no fucker is looking".
"I heard that" dryly says sir Morcin in the same language.
Dorc da Orc or Dorkindle which is his given name, winces as he remembers the avenger can speak the ork language.
"Just fucken joking" says the large ork with a chuckle, who then clears his throat, and switching back to the common language, asks sir Morcin "What you want?".
The ork general, who knows the avenger is one of those who he thinks of as a special soldier in the armies of Farque.
For the simple reason sir Morcin smells cold compared to other human beings.
Grunts as the undead avenger tells him "Warleader i want you to observe the recruits here, and pick out the three you think are best with the longsword".
"Sure" says Dorkindle with another grunt, while his bitter rival, sir Percavellé Lé Dic frowns, as that was the same thing sir Morcin got him to do earlier.
The heavily armoured knight keeps his mouth shut as the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks wanders off to get a closer look at the teenage recruits who are practicing their sword work against one another.
A little while later, the large ork walks back to where the avenger and the knight are.
And the big, burly ork from the frozen bottom of the world, who forgets the names of the recruits all the time.
Instead points out the three he thinks are the best at wielding a longsword.
Sir Percavellé Lé Dic frowns again as his bitter rival Dorc da Orc, picks out the trio of Garmon, Dammis and Hamblin that he picked out earlier when the large ork was fast asleep.
"Very good" says sir Morcin the undead avenger, who looks at the general, then at the knight, as he adds "You are correct" . . . . . .
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