“Discipline…” the old weapon master stated with authority. “Without it, you are just a man swinging a sword at the mercy of your opponent if they are stronger, faster, or smarter than you. Discipline will even the field of battle.”
Kayne and the old man were standing on a crude bridge crossing a stream in the middle of the forest. It was evening and the nocturnal creatures were just beginning to stir. Several song insects chirped their calls in chorus, setting an eerie soundtrack to the dimming light of the slowly setting sun.
“Draw your sword, Kayne. Now extend your arm, hold it out, and do not waver,” said Master with an imperative tone. The young man obediently did as he was told and did not question the old man‘s words. “Use your strength to hold your ground and hold onto your blade, no matter what… Remain tough!” the old swordsman commanded as he suddenly brought his new favorite weapon, the walking stick, down to crash upon Kayne’s bare knuckles with a loud crack. The muscular young warrior grimaced in pain, but held fast his grip and his stance.
“Very good,” the old man remarked, though his tone was unimpressed. This time he brought the handle of the walking stick up into Kayne’s solar plexus, before recoiling and swinging the stick downward into Kayne’s extended forearm. The wind was knocked clearly from the young man’s lungs and his arm began to swell and bruise from the swift blow, however he remained disciplined enough to keep control and hang on to the sword.
“Excellent!” the old warrior exclaimed in apparent surprise this time. Without warning or hesitation, he lifted the stick as if prepared to bring it down to injure Kayne’s sword arm again. The young man braced himself only to have the old man run headlong into his side, pushing him head over heels over the edge of the bridge and into the stream with a loud splash and a muffled string of swear words. The sword clanked loudly as it fell to the floor of the bridge.
“You let go of your weapon,” the old sword master sighed in disappointment as he brought himself upright and dusted himself off. He glared down at Kayne with his sightless eyes, the frown growing deeper.
Kayne stood up, waterlogged from falling into the stream. His clothes hung heavily from his muscular body, much like his head was hung in shame. He said nothing and kept his head bowed to his master.
“You must always keep possession and control of your blade. Without it, you are much weaker and less capable. You give greater control to your adversary.” The old man wagged his finger at his pupil and continued his teaching, “Being knocked from your feet is almost as bad as losing possession of your weapon. Your blade is everything. It is a part of you. Consider losing it synonymous to losing an appendage, Kayne. You must be the more disciplined between yourself and your foes.”
Last edited by Kayne on Fri Dec 26, 2014 1:38 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Kayne - "The Mountain" [Bio] "The End Justifies the Means..."
Ziaira - Merchant, Archer "It's my duty. My duty as a complete and utter bitch!"
“Before we can begin, there are a few skills you need to hone in on,” the old swordsman stated, his unseeing blue eyes staring directly at the young warrior before him. The fact that the older man was able to look straight at him wherever he stood, despite being blind, really unnerved Kayne.
“You must have an unwavering will and unbroken concentration. Eliminate all distractions!” his Master barked. It was early in the morning and the sun‘s rays were just beginning to filter through the forest canopy. Kayne was already sweating from the summer heat and the warm breeze did little to alleviate it. The birds chirped halfheartedly and the young fighter could hear the faint sound of bees buzzing around.
“I want you to focus on my stick,” the older man continued, swinging around a thick walking stick. “Avoid it at all costs.” Without warning he brought the weapon up in a quick motion, nearly catching Kayne off-guard. He leaned backwards swiftly and the stick narrowly missed the young man’s chin before being swung around to make a return trip. The young swordsman dodged to the side and ducked his head before being forced to tumble away as the old swordsman brought the stick down, striking the ground with a good amount of force and sending forth a shower of sticks and leaves.
Now standing idly after avoiding the short onslaught, the young warrior wiped the sweat from his brow. He suddenly doubled over in pain as the old man flashed forward and jabbed Kayne in the ribs, where he was still very tender from his previous injuries.
“You broke your focus. Concentrate!” the weapon master scolded. Kayne regained his composure and growled in anger, but the old man was sure to squelch his tendencies fast. “Keep your emotions in check or they will consume you. Your anger will only make it easier for your enemy if you aren’t in control.”
A sly smile played along the edges of the weapon master’s lips as he challenged the young man, “Let’s step things up…” As he said that, he twirled the wooden weapon and struck a nearby bee hive. Kayne’s eyes widened and he shouted in irritation, “Why in the ruddy hells would you do th…!?”
Before he could finish his sentence, the old master started swinging the stick at the young warrior again. As he dodged the first blow, he started feeling the stings and bites of the bees as his movements agitated the now swarming hive. Kayne saw stars as the stick suddenly struck him upside the head. “FOCUS!” the old man spat in warning as he recoiled and struck again with the stick. Kayne sidestepped the attack and swatted at a bee stinging him in the neck, only to be greeting by the stick striking him in the knee and sending him staggering to the forest floor.
“Kayne,” the weapon master said calmly, setting the stick on the floor beside him. “Ignore the bees. They are the least of your worries.” The old man drew his blade and remarked with a foreboding tone, “This will hurt a lot more than them…”
Kayne - "The Mountain" [Bio] "The End Justifies the Means..."
Ziaira - Merchant, Archer "It's my duty. My duty as a complete and utter bitch!"
Kayne brought a cup of steaming herbal tea to his lips and grimaced, his master sitting in front of him on a cushion with both legs folded and sipping the same tea. The atmosphere was casual. The cool breeze of night flowed through the sparsely furnished and barely illuminated cabin with a damp heaviness, bringing with it the promise of an overnight shower.
The blind swordsman lowered his tea and stared directly into Kayne’s eyes, as if he had perfect vision. “Intimidation,” he stated simply. “The ability to instill fear in others is a tool that can be used against your enemies.”
Kayne remained silent and listened intently while the older man shared his wisdom. “Any man can talk, but words hold little value to men like us. Let your actions… Let your blade do the talking, my pupil.” He paused and took a small sip of the bitter herbal tea, before moistening his lips and continuing. “It’s not what you say, but what you do not say that matters. The less you say and the more you act, the more mysterious you will be to your enemy. If nobody can get a handle on who you are, they will fear you.”
Kayne simply nodded in understanding and took another sip of the hateful beverage. The old man continued on, “The moment you let someone know who you really are is the moment you allow weakness into your being. The more your enemies know the weaker you will become to someone ambitious enough to exploit that knowledge.”
It began to rain outside and the old man’s tone became very dire as the cabin was suddenly illuminated with a bright flash of light from the sudden onset of the storm, “Kayne, I am telling you this because once this power is unlocked from within you will inherently draw many enemies who will seek to control or destroy you. Do not take the lessons I am about to teach you for granted…”
Kayne - "The Mountain" [Bio] "The End Justifies the Means..."
Ziaira - Merchant, Archer "It's my duty. My duty as a complete and utter bitch!"