Log: Broken Blade: Training Daze

Date	Log	People
May 14, 2015	Log: Broken Blade: Training Daze	Kyson, Verna and Godwyn

Log: Training Daze: 5-14

Kyson, Godwyn, Verna

Festival Grounds

Godwyn sits again on her knees, hands on her thighs, breathing imperceptible, and eyes closed. She faces not the sun, but a certain direction, as if predisposed to looking toward the southeast. Still as a guardian statue, painted over with blacks and browns, gold and a pale, yet healthy shade of skin.

The apprentice does try to sneak up - to approach his teacher without her knowledge. Doing his best to remain in her blind spot, he carefully sets his shoulder bag on the ground at the edge of the training grounds. Drawing forth the wooden practice sword - a new model that's a replacement for the one that he...*ahem* damaged - he sneaks up and carefully places the wooden blade's edge on the woman's shoulder. "What's this? A Paladin caught off her guard?"

Godwyn's eyes open as her right shoulder gets tapped. She smiles and says without turning, "That is a new waster. You'll have to forgive me for breaking the other one. Mind you, you didn't have a proper guard..."

She gets to her feet. "Today, we begin to take the sword out of your mind. Last time you were distracted by a thought, a person. This person made you angry without him even being here." She turns to face him. "Anger marks a loss of control, giving your power to someone else. Not saying don't get angry... simply do not respond on an emotional level. Choose how you react. This will take time, of course."

Kyson hrms and steps back from the woman, allowing her to rise without stepping all over him. He's chosen to remove his satchels and pouches for training - a lesson quickly learned after getting tangled up in his own gear once. His physical training, mostly focused upon maintaining balance and the like, has improved though he does still have a lot to learn. Specifically, he seems to fall into a sort of a trance when he fights: everything is going good and then suddenly he shifts his thoughts and he becomes -very- good, almost as though he were intuitively understanding how he should fight. More than once he's whizzed the wooden blade past his teacher's head only a fraction of an inch from cracking her nose. The 'moment of clarity' is often accompanied by a flush of anger. For that time he doesn't seem to be the same person; like he's been coached by someone else. Then, as soon as the moment's upon him, he seems to catch himself and, in the surprise, forgets what he's doing and becomes the clumsy apprentice once more.

"How shall we begin?" he asks, resting with his hands behind his back, the new, 'slashing' wooden sword held in his right hand. Godwyn smiles. "Well you know stances and footwork by now. I've practically beaten them into you, so that's enough of that. Now we get to the interesting things. Like for example this trance you go into." She tilts her head to the right. "What do you feel before it happens? What about after? Why do you think it occurs?"

Kyson shrugs, "I-I'm not really sure," he stammers. "It's just like I sort of 'know' what I'm doing without knowing how I know it." The apprentice's face flushes a bit with frustration as he knows that talkin in circles is none-too-informative but he's not really sure how to describe what's going on in his head. "I get angry sometimes...but I don't think that's it. I mean...I'm not as good as you and I'm not going to be and I just need to accept that." The words -seem- to make sense to him; they're measured and even in tone but there's a faint hint of uncertainty as though he was guessing at them.

Godwyn raises a hand. "Stop."

She grins. "There are two parts to the brain, did you know this? There's the part that thinks, judges, evaluates. It criticizes everything, including *you*. This is the part of your mind that learns, intellectually. The drawback is that it tends to be judgmental about everything, especially when you have a bias."

She runs a hand through her hair. "The other part of your brain... doesn't have to think, because it *knows*. It feels, it understands without having to have thoughts interrupt."

Godwyn tilts her head back, just slightly. "We are going to move the very image of that sword from your thinking mind... to the mind that knows."

Kyson nods and shrugs a little - as though he were completely in the dark about how one might move an idea. It's an interesting metaphor, or so he would think by the look in his eyes, but he's not quite sure that he gets the depth of it as yet. As he starts to pace a little, he turns away from the paladin and in so doing reveals that he's left the larger belt pouch hanging along the small of his back. The pouch is actually part of the belt that wraps around his waist - or so it would seem. It's not so big that would interfere with his actions but it's large enough to hold some of his larger possessions.

"How old were you when you were in your first -real- sword fight?" The question is probably one of those honestly asked topics that there's no easy to way to approach.

Godwyn pauses before answering... then takes in a breath. "Seventeen years old. Sentinel training. My instructors saw that I knew how to hold a sword properly and had good use of stance, so they decided to advance me early." She sighs. "I'm glad the weapons were enchanted to be merciful. I got knocked out twice."

"Pain is the best teacher," Kyson mutters without really realizing that he's done so. The phrase, however, accurate, seems to have been from a darker part of his mind; the place he goes when they're sparring. He's not really a toe-to-toe sort of fighter, nor is he a brawler. Kyson has demonstrated a certain level of dramatic flare when fighting - using his agility and speed to deliver a number of attacks which aren't immediately fatal but would definitely slow an opponent. It's almost as though the young man were toying with his target; wanting to stretch out the fight for a bit longer until the opponent could no longer move. Granted, this is not the case with the paladin, but to any trained swordsman his moves are as clear as the opening notes to a stirring opera.

"What about the first time that you had to defend yourself...in ernest?" Again, the question is an honest, open remark and he hopes, by their relation as teacher and student, that he's not stepping over any boundaries.

Godwyn sighs. "Mission to Dranei territory. We were on the border of this one village and they'd set the inn ablaze while we were sleeping in it. Had to get out quickly. Matron protect me, but I've never been so glad to work on my endurance.

"Once we got out, we engaged them one charge after another. Everyone else was content with killing them... but you do know that there is the ability to sense evil." She glances toward the wooden sword. "I couldn't. They were doing their jobs, following orders. I almost hesitated. Then I found out how to disable them without killing."

She looks back up at Kyson again. "If you recall, I told you that the sword is not just a weapon, not just a tool, but an extension of your will and heart. Break a man's sword, destroy their armor... and you destroy their will just as if you'd killed them. Just like I broke yours, you stopped fighting right then and there."

After having his knuckles cracked several times, the apprentice found a carpenter who could fashion a wooden saber complete with a knuckle bow to fight with. At least in this way his hand is only mostly at risk. "The Tribesman only understand two things; war and death. If they bring one, I will show them the other." And that's his anger rising again. The words didn't even start out as calm or even as he spoke. The very phrase seemed like a threat to the gods but not a boastful promise of some young sell-sword. Rather, Kyson's words were...honest; as though it were a promise. Surely a follower of Eluna would not think such things, right?

As they speak, he starts his first form with the newly crafted wooden sword. He has grown confident in his skill - at least enough to repeat the steps in the proper order with the blocks and attacks executed without too much error. By now, the apprentice is starting to correct himself in his form; correcting how far he's brought the tip of the wooden blade up for a block, or how low he's dropped the bow of the grip for an attack. Through out the first form, a triangular arrangement of steps that takes him roughly back to where he began, he comments though his eyes remain focused on the imagined foes ahead of him.

"You will forgive me ... if I do not show them the same degree of restraint." The words are cold and focused, like a blade in winter.

<Image> http://www.toledosword.com/im/SZ926776TS.jpg

Godwyn observes his form for a moment as he speaks. "Interesting. There are times when I've had to kill a man simply because he wouldn't stop fighting. Talking often times doesn't work." She tilts her head to the right. "Yet you don't seem fazed by this fact. At all." Godwyn lets the words hang there as she watches him correct his own mistakes. Still thinking about the sword.

"Again, you react with hostility. Show it openly. So does the enemy. But..." She places a hand on his right shoulder, gently, to stop him. "...did you know that you can fight, without displaying any sort of intent to kill, and still be incredibly dangerous?" Verna enters the grounds as a path more than a destination. As she walks south, her attention is primarily upon the large, open tome in hand, though the top of the spine is kept just low enough that her hood can view over it in a small window when necessary.

Godwyn pauses for a moment... and frowns. "The blade. Where is it." Her tone is still calm, reserved.

"Ice kills just as effectively as fire," Kyson comments and is about to continue when Godwyn's question catches him off guard. "Oh, it's over in..." and he has to think for a moment; a silent moment. "...my shoulder bag I think." He points with the wooden saber as he shifts his stance in the form as though it were a planned deviation from the original path. From block he turns to thrust and slay some imagined beast and then curls out of the attack into an imagined parry upon a different plane of attack. The wooden blade slashes and flashes around him like a dancer might use ribbons to entice and distract their audience. "Why?" he asks curiously as he ducks quickly and swishes his back leg around in a sweeping arc as though he were tripping the opponent. The young man moves like water...or a serpent; never remaining in the same place for long or advancing in a straight line for more than a step or two.

Godwyn stops him again... and this time, pulls the bag from his shoulder. She unceremoniously throws it a good distance, lucky that it's enchanted so nothing falls out.

"Stop. Put the weapon down and kneel, both knees." She acts first in this and sits much like one of the eastern samurai would.

Verna's attention is diverted by the thrown satchel and curt command towards the two training upon the grounds. Her hood pans while the tome lowers to allow the opening of her hood a more expansive view. The Sentinel is known to her, the other is not.

The young apprentice is startled, uncertain as to what's happening. The shoulder bag sails over to the dirt nearby and hits the ground with a cloth-filled, squishy flop. Nothing's broken. Kyson seems confused and stops in his form, turning towards the paladin with the tip of his blade not even an inch from the ground; a weapon measured to the user it would seem.

"Uh...did I do something wrong?" He asks meekly. He's been an apprentice for far too long not to realize that few people ask you to stop and kneel for a 'good' reason.

Godwyn glances toward him. "Nothing. Kneel, and breathe." If her guess is right... this should silence the anger. "We are resetting everything. Not your form, it's getting better." She pokes the side of her head. "Next time you bring nothing but your practice weapon. Understand?"

Verna is not a student of things martial, per se, though passing familiarity is rarely detrimental. Her tome eventually lowers further, is folded closed, and vanishes within the folds of her robes. She clasps gloved hands together before her as she steps closer to observe.

A quick flash of worry washes over Kyson's face as Godwyn instructs him to leave his possessions behind. "Uh, ok. I normally leave my gear back at the dorms but I had an errand to run on the way to practice today." He doesn't seem to realize what is happening - or what is presumed to be happening. He keeps his eyes focused straight ahead, as though he were in a kneeling, yet 'on guard' stance. His posture is near perfect; rigid and militaristic. He could probably spring from the position and draw the blade in a single motion at any moment. But who would he strike? The only thing in front of him is...Godwyn. His breath is even, and steady as he draws in the sights and sounds of the things around him.

"What do you fear, Paladin?" there's that tone again, a deeper, more rich bravoso to his voice.

Godwyn closes her eyes and takes in a breath. "Falling." She sighs. "Not because of anything I did. I fear turning into what my parents tried to make me."

"Your pupil, Sentinel Godwyn," there is more than a small amount of inquiry mixed with the presumption, "appears full of challenge." Presumption, and observation.

"What does one call a Fallen Paladin, m'lady?" Kyson asks, his voice now back to the usual lilt of his curious-tone. Still on his knees, he pulls the wooden blade up and rests it closer to where he could grab it; an odd, almost paranoid behavior one might say. "There are no Fallen Wizards...but as a paladin your oath is your weapon. As a weapon," he comments as his breathing continues to stay in that slow, rhythmic pattern, " it can be shattered and left as shards..." he adds but his voice falls quiet at the end; as though something just 'clicked' in his head.

The observation of Verna earns a wry grin that creeps across his face for a moment and then vanishes. Is he 'proud' of his challenging nature?

Godwyn nods. "He is. Challenge is good, it promotes advancement." She breathes in, out, slow. "He needs to learn this so he can prevent himself from falling prey when someone manages to get past his defenders. How are you doing, Verna?"

The apprentice starts to grow anxious just kneeling on the ground. He's not ready to just sit there with all of this built-up energy inside of him. So, in a display of some improvised form, he jumps forward and grabs the wooden practice sword in mid-leap. He rolled back onto the balls of his feet, gripped for the sword's handle and then launched himself into the air - apparently having waited until Godwyn was no longer in his path. The leap turns into a roll and he comes out of it in a low, crouched position with a quick slash around his body; twisting his form up until he's back to an 'en guard' stance and facing Godwyn.

"She is an excellent teacher," he smiles faintly.

"Will is a powerful tool, for offense or defense," Verna's hood dips as she nods, "though it requires guidance and training like any other asset." She then answers the query with, "I am well. The library recently acquired several new collections and treatises related to the lands and customs of the Dranei. Convenient and useful timing."

Godwyn maintains stillness even as Kyson leaps upward and rolls backward. "Kyson? Sit." She sounds amused if nothing else. "This is exactly what we're trying to calm... that impulse."

"No," he answers...and then quickly follows it with, "...thank you." Granted, he was speaking in the middle of a complex move that would naturally have given him a pause in any words but there was an unmistakable emphasis upon his primary declaration. "I want to finish the form; it's nearly done." He continues with block and strike, sweep and slash until the form draws to a close. Curiously, he ends precisely where he should but the last move, a deft thrust to the mid-section of some imagined beast, leaves the sword very close to Godwyn. Not that he was in any real threat of actually making contact with the paladin but it's possible that she may have felt the wind stirred by the attack. There, holding in the last pose for but a moment, he breaks form and takes one knee before his instructor, putting the saber on the ground at his feet.

"I hate leaving things partially-complete."

"Well... that just means that *now* we can calm you down." Godwyn smiles, briefly, then her face becomes a mask of serenity again. "Breathe. If a thought comes, let it. Then, and this will be difficult, let it go. Just like we did earlier."

The apprentice retakes his position near the paladin, the wooden blade now set beside him in a ceremonial position. A faint breeze stirs the banners in the festival grounds and, as luck would have it, blows from behind Kyson towards Godwyn. The air coming off of the apprentice is cold; abnormally chilled. Perhaps he's using some of his magic to keep himself cool given his exertions? Closing his eyes, he bows his head and tries not to think of...things. The chill continues, though it's no colder than an an autumn breeze - it's just oddly placed given everything else that has happened around the young man.

"You would be wise to follow the lead of your instructor," Verna comments. "As I stated, will is potent, but best when guided. Careless defiance is no better than flailing a sword about without restraint; you are as liable to harm yourself as others."

Godwyn didn't respond right away. Simply sits, her expression one of tranquility. For several minutes, she seems frozen in time almost, before giving a slight, almost imperceptible smile. "Time. Get up, Kyson."

She stands and brushes her legs off. "That sword of yours... I don't care where else you take it, but you don't bring it with you while we are training. You are never to do battle using someone else's anger, nor your own."

Kyson nods, "Of course...m'lady..." his eyes suddenly find somewhere else to look while he pushes himself to his feet and collects his wooden blade.