Sevrud sat with his legs crossed, still as death itself. Drips of sweat moved their way down his face, slowly hovering on the tip of his nose before falling to the floor. Barely breathing, he kept his eyes closed, empty, concentrating only on keeping his breathing steady. He had heard others talk about concentration techniques such as concentrating on a single flame, or embracing inner strength and letting it flow out of you like a river, but those things had never worked for him. He always had lacked the patience to truly hone his mind in those special ways, but this was something else. Just sitting and doing nothing relaxed him, helped him forget his troubles and feel refreshed. There was little wine and no women near the empty room in which he sat to distract himself from the awful truth of where he was, so this was the next best thing. A knock on the door popped his eyes open, and Sevrud let out a sigh. He had enjoyed his vacation in his mind, reveled in the feeling of freedom. But oaths he had sworn long, long ago ensured that nothing about him would ever be free. Not his body, not his mind, not even his soul. Wiping the sweat from his face on his hands, he got up and opened the door.

 

A medium sized man walked in. Not that tall compared to others, but above average for Sevrud's native Cairhien. He was dressed in black from head to foot, with a black cloak drawn over his head and a veil covering his face, much like the ones he had seen the Aiel savages wear. All Sevrud could see was the man's dark eyes which looked at him as if he were a plow horse. So they send a full dreadlord this time and not some Fade. Trade one terror for another. When will I leave this place? Walking over to the washbasin, Sevrud started washing the salt off his face. "What am I needed for now? Am I going to get an assignment worthy of my stature, or are you going to keep me here until my hair turns gray and falls out?" He knew it was a bad idea to talk to the man like this, but Sevrud didn't care. He had been in Shayol Ghul, deep within the blight, for well over a month now, and he was getting tired of all the waiting. He was one of the elite, not some errand boy! The man stayed where he was and spoke in a voice that sounded partly amused. "Oh, you have nothing to worry about. We have great plans for someone of your skill. You are to accompany me, and I will show you your next assignment. I assure you, this one will be most educational for you." Beckoning with a gloved hand, the man turned and left the room. Quickly grabbing his sword belt and coat, Sevrud put them on as they walked. Finally some real work for him to do!

 

They walked the corridors of the fortress together. Left turns down passages followed by right, hallways and crossroads blending together until Sevrud was completely lost. He had not spent that much time outside of his room. Food was delivered to him, and whenever he had to leave there was always a guide by his shoulder. It was a nuisance, but a small one. All palaces were mazes that only those that lived there could navigate, and Sevrud had no desire to live here. As they walked, both men kept silent, the only sound one could hear was the pounding of their boots on the tiles. After almost a half hour, they arrived at a big bronze door. It looked as if it would take two men two move, but with a gesture the man in black sent the thing flying open. As they walked in, Sevrud looked around. Inside was a massive room with some sort of artificial light coming from the ceiling. If he had been anywhere else in the world he would have said it was the sun. The room was big enough to house two good sized barns, and along the walls lay rows of weapons. Axes, bows, pikes, lances and everything in between. There were swords of all shapes and sizes, some Sevrud had never seen before, amongst them. It looked like an armory out of someones imagination. Walking across the smooth stone floors, Sevrud stared in amazement at the place. As he wondered, the man in black started to leave the room. "Wait, what am I supposed to do here? What important mission do you have for me in a place like this?" With a chuckle, the man in black looked over his shoulder. "Mission? Your mission is to teach of course. Your students are on their way now." With that, the man walked out and the door slammed shut. A cry of rage escaped Sevrud's throat as he threw a rock from the ground at some pole arms. Again, he was stuck teaching young fools when his only desire was leave and return to the real world.

 

Sevrud Randra

Rebecca walked into the room, noticing somewhat to her surprise that Sevrud would be teaching this class again. He was apparently both capable and trusted enough in the eyes of the Shadow that he was called upon to teach, which made him all the more of an asset to have on her side. However, she was aware of what happened during her last class under him, and realised there would be some wounds that needed to heal.

 

- "Master... Randra, was it? I'd like to apologise for what happened during my last lesson. I assure you it will not happen again."

 

Bowing her head, she stepped back again where the others stood. She wasn't even lying, she had no intentions of picking a fight again like she had last time. It had served its purpose, and to repeat it would only make her appear incompetent, a liability to the Dreadlords and the opposite of what she plotted to achieve. Sevrud looked as annoyed as ever though, so she figured actions spoke louder than words. Even as she waited for class to begin, her mind worked to plan ahead, her eyes sought weaknesses to exploit and weigh the man in front of her in terms of value to her goals.

 

She was prepared.

 

 

Rebecca

As Cairhienin as ever

Arcon stepped into the huge area with a slight smile on his lips, his sword already on his hip. The longsword's weight had become as natural as carrying his head on his shoulders, the hidden blade as well. He suppressed a chuckle when he noticed the other two in the room. Three Cairhiens walk into a bar...

 

The adept wasn't sure if the man who was to teach him could channel or not, his usual channels turning up disappointingly little upon the man. So, as a precaution he bowed his head slightly as he spoke. "Morning sir, my name is Arcon Dadread." He kept his tone and face neutral, a basic tactic in the Game that he played with every breath, and he hoped it was assumed that he was just that; a novice.

 

He took a couple steps back, his hand resting casually upon the hilt, the class bringing him back to the Merry Pauper and its first mate. Mr. Sweeper, let the sharks gnaw slowly upon his writhing body, had taught him how to use his weapons with rather unorthodox methods, one even costing him his eye. He was almost eager to see what a true class would be like, a change of pace from climbing the riggings and being pelted with blunt arrows as he ran through the forms, and all of those obstacle courses. 

 

None of this showed however, he kept his face neutral.

 

 

 

Touching the dagger on her belt, Rendra muttered at having to be in breeches again.  True, she understood that it was much easier to learn about weapons with the freedom of movement they provided, but that didn't mean that she ever had to be particurally comfortable in them!  Shooting a glance at her wardrobe and its pretty dresses, she sighed and headed for the training room.

 

Her hand tightened on the dagger as she entered the room - <i>she</i> was there again.  She being Rebecca, or 'that stuck-up ladyspawn', as Rendra preferred to think of her.  And there <i>her ladyship</i> was, sucking up to the teacher, "Master... Randra, was it? I'd like to apologise for what happened during my last lesson. I assure you it will not happen again."

 

Rendra muttered under her breath - that stupid Cairhienin chit had started it last time, but what made her think she'd not get another dose of it today!?  Doing a double-take, she realized that it was the same man as last time.. and looking a lot crosser than he had the class before.  Nodding her head in greeting, she kept a careful distance from Rebecca, but didn't loosen her grip on her dagger.

 

 

<i>Rendra

I'll show that chit what-for!</i>

Dalek was not happy, guest were expected to the farm, and this lady in red had offered to take him off their hands for a couple days, all for his safety of course. Bollocs in his mind, she had plans, and even his rank couldnt help him against this one, so here he was stuck waiting for something, he wasnt sure what. What he was sure of though was he was geting tired of watching the hillside infront of them, then he blinked, something was shimering and twisting, and sudenly a hole in the air opened. She took the lead towards it as the most natural thing in the world, and hesitantly he followed her.

 

He had seen it before, but he couldnt say he liked these things, and luckily most of the time he could stay away from them. He shuddered as he steped through the hole, then looked at the man holding it for a brief moment. Best not to glare, one ting he had learned was those who could do these things aparently ranked high even amongst the channelers, and he knew sometimes it was smart even for him to keep his head down.

 

Following the lady out into the halls he was not sure what would happen next, he only heard about this place, well he had seen it from a distance when he swore his oaths, both times, but still this was a place he could have lived his whole life happily without venturing too. He wondered what he would do now, untill the fair lady stoped by a door and knocked, entering she talked to someone inside, and he could feel the rage burn as he heard them discuss usage for him like he was merely a farm dog to be put to work.

 

Next a younger bloke came out, perhaps an intiate, there was no way for him to know, and no time to ponder as he was told to follow. They finaly stoped infront of a door, "There is a weapons class going on inside, you can help out" and with those words the guy turned and left. Daleks forehead curled up, that was it, that was bloody it, taking a deep breath he opened the door, and was mildly surprised to recognise the teacher. He nodded in respect to a brother of fellow rank that he was sure wouldnt be any happier for the asignment then he was.

 

He ventured to the other end of the room so they could split the class between them, tallying up his students "everyone got their weapons of preference out", it was almost more of a statement of fact then a question as he checked that they all had a mainweapon to work with, and make sure he could help anyone that didnt to pick one.

 

Dalek

NSW Elite DF

 

 

ooc as devon is LoA, say hello to anoyed teacher number two for the moment, should devon come back he can pick up the lead of the class again

Rebecca turned towards the door, but found herself slightly surprised at the appearance of not one of the other students, but a teacher by the look of him. She hadn't seen him around the Fortress, and judging by his annoyed manner he wasn't one she would expect to be a Dreadlord. A Darkfriend then, a high ranking one like Rendra to teach future Dreadlords. Even as she drew her twin daggers out of the concealed sheaths inside her coat, she was filing this particular bit of information away for later usage.

 

If whomever was in charge of this place had indeed ordered several teachers in stead of one to be guiding this class, then now would be the time to show potential, and through their reports to their superiors, more focus could be put on weapons training. As she stood there, her mind was scheming on the best way to manipulate the both of them into doing what she wanted them to. Came with being Cairhienin, she guessed.

 

 

Rebecca

Do as i say, or do it anyway

Arcon let a slight bit of shock play across his scarred features. Another teacher, hmm? He had to wonder if there was more to this class than he had thought, or perhaps the teacher needed someone else of skill to demonstrate? That did not bode well for the class... Still, it couldn't be nearly as bad as that infuriating Mr. Sweeper, may he be slowly digested in the belly of a toothed whale.

 

That pleasant thought still occupying his mind, the Adept looked again to his fellow Cairhienin student. He hoped that his reputation hadn't spread to far, as he put a bit of lust into his expression to cover his examination. She wasn't completely helpless with those daggers of hers, and Arcon smiled inwardly at the thought. At first glance, he wanted her under his wing, as he did almost every initiate with some sort of useful, if odd, specialty. Now, all that remained was to figure out exactly how he was going to accomplish this... Well at least that opportunity had presented itself.

 

Blinking in surprise, Rendra's fist tightened involuntarily on the long dagger belted to her waist.  Another person, an unfamiliar person wandered in. <i>"I wonder if he's another student?  Great Lord, but how many people are there in this crazy place?!"</i>

 

Her notion that he was another student was quickly disabused when he started doling out instructions to have their weapon of choice on hand.  Shooting a dark glance at Rebecca, Rendra pushed back a stray braid with her free hand while smiling at the dagger belted to her waist.  As much as she'd love to give that snooty Cairhienen a taste of bare steel, she had a feeling that even an 'accident' in training would be punished greatly at this stage.  Later, perhaps...

 

Shaking her head out of the lovely fantasy road it was taking her down, Renda glanced quickly to make sure that no one was behind her trying anything funny, and awaited further instruction.  While she knew know in her heart she would probably never get the chance to be an assassin like she wanted to, she wasn't about to get caught short should she ever not be able to use this witch power she was cursed with.

 

<i>"GAH!  Quit wandering off, mind, especially in this place!"</i> she chastised herself mentally.  Her lips formed a pouty moue as she glanced around again, taking in the room.  She almost growled as she spotted one of the boys in her class checking out... <b>her</b>.  <i>"What does that scrawny chit have that I don't?!</i>" Rendra thought, shooting the boy a dark look.  She unconsciously cocked her slender hip to the side, tapping her fingers idly on the hilt of her blade.

Dalek finaly conent that all had weapons unsheated his own daggers. "Now swordforms can always help you in one way or another, be it direct, through adaption, or just training your body. So that is what we will start with, some of you may know some, but unlikely all.." as he kept talking he started demonstrating different forms, breaking up now and again to go around help corecting the forms as his students practised.

 

He kept them working and sweating untill he himself felt the need for drink and food, unsure of when the next class would be he directed them to keep practising till next they meet, ensuring them he would check that they indeed had.

 

ooc short and sweet, pick some forms to demonstrate what you are learning, how they sit with you, any strugles you have etc, feel free to npc the teacher helping and/or praising you, wheter you spend the post in class or between class or both is up to you. Swordforms can be found here http://digitalglitch.org/drpsw/index.php?title=Sword_Forms

 

Perking up, Rendra watched assiduously as this new teacher began demonstrating the various forms.  There were quite a few she wasn't familiar with, but she was grateful when Dalek (as she learned his name was) was able to make it around to her to make corrections.

 

One such case was attempting to learn <i>The Cat Dances on the Wall</i>.  After almost cutting Rebecca's head off ("On accident!", she swore fervently), a very bemused Dalek wandered over and tersely explained, "You're just waving that dagger all over the place - were you actually paying <i>any</i> attention to my instruction?!"

 

Blushing slightly, she made herself take a moment before speaking, "I tried to do it like you showed us; what was I doing wrong?"  Sighing, he re-demonstrated that it was <b>tentative</b> and controlled, not just wild swings.  Nodding, Rendra tried again to mildly better success.. but still more dangerously than needed.  Dalek shook his head, "I think that you're not quite ready for that particular move; save it for once you've got better control of your wrists."

 

She waited until he turned to another student before sticking out her tongue at his back briefly.  Resisting the urge to stomp, she tried her luck at <i>Dandelion in the Wind</i> again while thinking, <i>"I did have the fastest wrists of the three of us back home.. what does he mean my wrists aren't any good?!"</i>  Rendra moved into a mimicry of <i>The Grapevine Twines</i>, enjoying the twisting of her wrists.

 

Before she knew it, Dalek was dismissing them with admonishments to practice in their off time.  Nodding, she suddenly realized just how thirsty she was, and scooted off to get a drink.

When Arcon had learned he would be practicing forms in this class, he nearly let out a sigh. Remembering the last time that he had to go through these exercises... Even Arcon's control slipped, as he unconsciously touched the eye-patch covering his left eye. Arcon noted with a sigh that he would not be dueling today, and as such, slipped his dagger into his hand with a flourish, and sheathed his other blade.

 

Instinctively he entered Ko'Di, the oneness and opened with Unfolding the Fan with the added diagonal slash. His dagger moved into Cutting the Clouds, a move meant more for distraction, and against a truly unskilled opponent, maiming. His sword moved from guard stance to Courtier Taps his Fan one of his favorite moves. As his longer weapon returned to guard, the dagger lashed out in The Falcon Swoops. Moving between forms on the balls of his feet, constantly switching between dagger and sword attacks, keeping one in guard.

 

Arcon had developed a very opportunistic style, keeping one weapon in guard while the other made aggressive attacks, trying to force his opponent into making a mistake in his rush to save his head or heart, while the guard stance weapon waited for that opening to be made. Dalek approached, cocking an eyebrow. "Not every foe will fall to a cheap shot, dreadlord." Arcon turned to him, laughing. "Well, I suppose not, but I find an opponent that much better than me, I do have other weapons at my disposal."

 

Arcon considered his own words, never truly practicing with combining sword form and Saidin. He would have to do so from now on. It would be useful against even a fellow channeler, particularly if they were not used to having to defend themselves on multiple fronts. His teacher merely shook his head, walking off to help another student. With that, they were dismissed and Arcon hurried off to his room, remembering only as he was half way there to try to ensnare one of these assassin dreadladies into his web.

 

Oh well, there was always time for that later.

Rebecca took a deep breath, holding her daggers that they could not be seen, but had the hilts resting in the palms of her hands, ready for quick use. Taught by her father, it was an assassination technique, of course, one of the few that could be potentially lethal when taking someone by surprise. Daggers were never meant for drawn-out combat, and the more time she would give her opponent to feel her out the more of an advantage he would have against her.

 

The daggers twirled in her hands, and she flowed into Kissing the Adder in one movement, the hilt of one of her weapons still resting in her palm as her fingers rested on the blade. Her other dagger was held inverted, and she went on into Twisting the Wind, using her momentum to deliver a diagonally rising slash aimed at the jugular before settling into Apple Blossoms in the Wind. Though that pretty much summed up what she could do, they were one of her personal favorites among those she'd seen, it built on speed and agility rather than strength, and if performed correctly made it quite hard for an opponent to land a blow on her. Dalek approached.

 

"Good speed, though you'd need to catch your opponent off guard if you want that to work. And if he gets a hit in on your leg, most of those forms will be useless."

 

She shrugged, and was about to answer when she noticed Rendra from the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she brought up her own daggers and managed to block the incoming dagger from taking her head off, and Dalek walked off towards her as she was swearing that it had been an accident. She smirked, watching with amusement as she tried to master the form. Though in reality she was a bit angry at the attempt, appearing amused was something she knew would be getting under her skin. 'I laugh at your feeble attempt to kill me, girl'.

 

She tried some of the other forms -- specifically the ones Rendra was trying to master -- making sure Rendra would be able to see her. If the woman wanted to continue the stupid feud from their first class then so be it, but she'd have to train a lot harder to catch up to her. The arms race was on, it seemed. After being dismissed by their teachers, she went off towards her own room, casually glancing down the corridor where she had come from every time she rounded a corner to see if she was being followed. Just another good habit from her life that had proven useful upon joining the Fortress. In her room, she would practise the forms she was not so good with, not wanting to show a potential weakness for Rendra to exploit until she wanted the woman to.

 

 

Rebecca

Training in secret

Dalek found himself down in the classroom again awaiting students. When he was sure his half was there he started looking around, "I do be hoping you trained" his eyes wandered over the row, "you.." he pointed "you and...you" he croocked his finger to come up.

 

Then he drew his weapons, "lets see how well you have done" he made sure to position himself with the wall to his back so they had to come from the front, he was better then them he was sure, but not that much better, and he had no death wish. He started out with some of the simpler forms, yesting back and forth with them to get them good and well into the forms, as well geting a feel for them. Then quickly he broke out of any and all forms to take them with surprise and prove a point. Once satisfied he waved them back to the rest and rested his eyes upon them all.

 

"Forms are usefull, but sometimes the most dangerous foe will be the one who know nothing of weaponry, because they will be totaly unpredictable.." his eyes wandered among them. "So lets pair up and train in dueling, use both forms and then also try to be inventive, never let yourself expect anything in a match swordform or not, that will be the end of you eventualy"

 

ooc pair up with eachother, with npc students or even the teacher if feel like as there is but 3 of you...show how you both use forms as well as learned from his lesson of unpredictability.

 

<i>"Back in these pants,"</i> Rendra grimaced to herself as she filed back in for the next iteration of her arms training course.  She felt a bit unsure about how well her practicing had gone since the last class, but at least she'd not accidentally killed anyone in that time.

 

She was <b>very relieved</b> that Dalek didn't drag her up to the front for demonstration purposes.  The lessons of the Shadow were sharp and to the point, and it was an immense relief to find out she wasn't going to be the latest example.  Still, watching one of the three people Dalek had pulled to battle, she winced for the other girl, <i>"I don't think I managed to even be quite <b>that</b> bad... perhaps I should see about partnering with her down the line, if only so I don't feel a complete dunce."</i>

 

Suddenly, he changed what he was doing, throwing everyone into confusion.  After a moment, he nodded in satisfaction and spoke, "Forms are useful, but sometimes the most dangerous foe will be the one who know nothing of weaponry, because they will be totally unpredictable..." his eyes wandered among them. "So lets pair up and train in dueling, use both forms and then also try to be inventive, never let yourself expect anything in a match sword form or not, that will be the end of you eventually".

 

Nodding in bemusement, Rendra strode up to one of the girls that Dalek had pulled to the front, "Hi, I'm Rendra... care to practice with me?"  The other girl wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and stood, nodding as she re-drew her sword.

 

Rendra smirked briefly as she launched her assault.  Cutting the Clouds was prevented by the other girl stepping backwards, and to counter-balance, Rendra swung her other dagger up at her opponent’s face in Hummingbird Kisses the Honeyrose.  The other girl jerkily swung her sword up to block, enabling Rendra to try her luck with Black Pebbles on Snow.  The other girl had thrown herself off-balance trying to block the blade coming at her face, so only took a slight graze across the side as she felt to one side, and Rendra to the other.

 

Laughing softly, she thwapped the other girl on the side of the leg from where they had fallen.  The other girl jumped slightly, and pushed herself up on her elbows.  Seeing Rendra trying unsuccessfully to not laugh out loud, she too started giggling.  Pushing herself up, the Taraboner woman quickly sheathed her daggers and helped the other girl up.  “I wonder if my ‘attack’ there counts as getting you by surprise… you’re not too cut up, I hope?”  After all, this wasn’t Rebecca she was fighting, so why bear the other girl any ill will?

 

Rebecca was present again for the next round of lessons, more than aware of the daggers that had been slipped into their hiding places on the inside of her coat. She had spent quite some time practising, training her movements under the dim light her ability to channel gave her. Oh, she had enough strength at that point to have lit her room completely, but she knew combat hardly ever took place at full light, especially given the type of tactics she preferred. Now, when she would be forced to fight in bad light conditions, she would be ready for it.

 

Dalek wanted her to spar someone, and she found herself looking at Arcon, trying to guess how much he had learned. Rendra, the woman that had appointed her as her rival had apparently been content with picking another opponent today, which perhaps was for the better. The woman had served her purpose in convincing those ranking above her to hold more weapons classes, and would have started becoming either a nuisance or a sparring partner -- though one that would be willing to stab her in the back given the chance to.

 

Taking her daggers out of her coat in a single movement that looked almost casual, she sliped into a stance and looked at Arcon, waiting for the Dreadlord to attack her. They were both dagger users, it would be interesting to see how she would rank up against someone with equal weaponry.

 

 

Rebecca

Ready and waiting

Arcon watched with his one good eye as three students were humiliated. He didn't bother to conceal his amusement. Oh yes..unconventional. I know that word rather well. Before he could stop himself, he touched the silk eyepatch over his previously scarred flesh. Mr. Sweeper... may you be diced into the finest sushi... but I'll be damned if you didn't get a couple points across. His gaze fell upon Rebecca, and he tossed her a grin.

 

He had the feeling this woman had witnessed him practicing the previous class, and as such knew about his little surprise. Still, he had both hands on the hilt of his longsword and his mind floating in the void as he opened with Unfolding the Fan, extending it out into a diagonal slash from bottom left to upper right, in a controlled cut. Letting go with his left hand, he drew his dagger from the hidden arm sheath, keeping the shorter weapon lashing out in Courtier taps the Fan, while his longer blade moved back into guard.

 

The battle was interesting from there, she seemed insistence on dodging blows, rather than meeting each with a parry. Amusement flickered across the edges of the void, Interesting... She is biding her time... He admired that kind of style, in fact, it was something he had incorporated into his own style. He slipped through the forms without effort; he had gone through them under various rather unpleasant conditions, and on solid ground, with no projectiles flying at him, it seemed almost like child's play.

 

He chided himself for the thought, refocusing on his opponent. If they kept it up, perhaps Arcon could have won, but it would test his skills in a way that he had no wish to be done in public. So, he did something quite foolish and issued another diagonal slash, this from upper right to lower left, and immediately followed through with a reverse-gripped thrust from his dagger hand. The move left his right open, and like the assassin she was, she moved in to deliver the blow. At the last moment he brought his arm in to his chest, trans forming it into a slash designed to take off her head. And so, they reached a stalemate, her daggers at his throat and chest, while his was at her neck.

 

"Ten days, meet me in the courtyard at midnight, if you desire a true test of your skill," the words were whispered, but managed to hold a tone of anticipation despite the void he drifted within. The invitation sent, he retracted his blade and made his way for the door, bowing his head slightly to the weapon's instructor.

 

He left with a hint of a smile playing across his pale features, And so yet another has been baited...