Honing his Skills (Private)

[Verus]

TS: Third Cycle, Fifth Brightening of Cryxatum. Era XIV PF.

It was one of the rhaghrnd brightenings off... if you could call it that. One these brightenings, the barbarian was usually found doing one of three things, teaching Surev, the child he had become the guardian of some time ago, having a drink and a game of dice at one of the many seedy taverns within the city, and the third, what he had chose to do this brightening, continue his training and hone his skills.

He was on the practice field in the Crimson Keep, stripped to the waist for all the good it did him with the fine white hairs that covered his torso and arms, wielding a single practice shortsword against a wooden dummy. Some who knew him might find it odd, during basic training he had opted to learn how to wield a pair of shortsword, but he still favored the one. There was something about having a hand free that he enjoyed.

He was covered in sweat under the mid-brightening suns, balanced lightly on the balls of his feet facing off against the dummy that he had been beating on for nearly half a candlemark now. He was thinking back to his time living in Nexus Prime in the West Warden's, the basic training he had received there, and further to his rescue patrol into the wilderness, a mission gone horribly awry with most of his patrol falling to a pack of Worgs when a figure from his past had guided him through the fight and brought him out alive.

He was going through the basics at the moment. Standing in front of the dummy, slashing and thrusting. He tended to go for the slashes more often, bringing his sword down and across to bounce of the side of the wooden neck, then spinning the blade in his hand and bringing it upwards slashing against the dummies side before bringing it back and lashing out in a thrust that connected with the dummy, mid torso, jarring his arm.

Falling back into his stance, he imagined the dummy reacting, lashing out with it's own slash towards his neck. Ducking under the imaginary slash, Temujin straightened up and raked his wooden blade across the dummies stomach in a horizontal slash, a death blow that would disembowel the enemy, but the barbarian continued on.

Stepping backwards out of the way of another imaginary slash, the rhaghrnd quickly stepped in and thrust against the dummies chest, letting his sword bounce back and spinning it around, bringing it down against the top of the dummies shoulder before retracting to his basic stance again.

He continued on, slashing and thrusting at the dummy, feinting and blocking, dodging out of the way of imaginary attacks. It was only the basics, but they were the fundamentals for everything that followed and he practiced them well. It was well over another half a candlemark before the rhaghnrd progressed to the next part of his exercises.

[Verus]

The next part of the rhaghrnd routine was part of what he had learned from the ghost of a rhagrhnd warrior when fighting for his life against a pack of worgs. He had learned to target specific area's of the beast's body to do the most damage. The hamstring for example, to cripple it and slow the beast down. Just like the worgs, humans also had these points that he could target along with any other race he would draw his blade against.

Squaring off against the the practice dummy, Temujin knew a couple of these points that he could target. Like the worg, other creatures also had the hamstring muscle that would cripple the leg if cut. Facing off against the practice dummy, he pretended to block a downwards slash before lunging passed the dummies side. Once behind his inanimate opponent, he pivoted on his right leg and slashed low, bringing the edge of his wooden sword across the back of the dummies upper leg, crippling that leg.

Standing upright, he walked around the front of the dummy and once more fell into his stance. This time he targeted another place he knew of. The spine. Lot's of little bones that if hit in the right place could do severe damage and paralyze the opponent. When facing off against the worgs, he had been instructed to thrust at the small bones at the top of the spine, by the base of the neck. When he had drove the tip of his blade between those bones on the worg it had stopped the beast dead in it's tracks, paralyzed. Facing off against the dummy, Temujin slashed upwards and raked his blade in a diagonal across the wooden chest, then as he duck in under the practice dummies arm, he flipped his blade around in his hand, inverting it so the blade now protruded from the bottom of his closed fist. Straightening up behind the dummy, he glanced over his shoulder and found his target, the base of the wooden neck. Placing his left hand flat against the pommel of the wooden sword he drove the blade backwards in a thrust that connected solidly with the target and sent a shock threw his arms.

Walking around back to the front of the dummy, Temujin shove the shock from his arms before once more falling into the stance. The only other place the warrior had told him about was another position in the spine. This one down further, close to the end of the row of bones. Of course it was different between a worg and a human, but Temujin believed if he struck at the vertebrae located at the small of the back, it would have the same effect, paralyzing his opponents legs.

Imagining a thrust coming at him, the barbarian stepped to the side and pushed the imaginary sword in the opposite direction. Ducking in and around the dummy, Temujin pivoted on his right foot and drawing his arm back lashed out in a savage thrust driving the wooden blade jarringly dead centre in the small of the dummies back.

Stepping back in front of the dummy, Temujin took a few moments to catch his breath, shaking out his limbs and reviewing the next part of his routine in his head before continueing on.

[Verus]

The next part of the rhaghrnd training routine brought him closer to the present. Remembering back to basic training in the Lions, while he had not chose to do any training with his shortsword, he had however learned something that could be applied to his fighting with the shortsword, or really any other weapon he picked up. It was how to fight against an armored foe. He had learned of the weak spots and openings in armor, and how to strike at them.

Facing off against the dummy in his basic stance he went over the openings in his mind. The best spots to strike an armored opponent were the throat, armpits and joints. With those places in mind, Temujin began his next set of training. Rather then attack, the rhaghrnd imagined the dummy were attacking him. He blocked a horizontal slash and pushed the imaginary blade back, then lashed out with his own slash, bringing his blade across the dummies throat.

For the next one, he dodged to the side of the dummies thrust and pushed his sword straight out in his own thrust, driving the point up into the exposed armpit. Returning to in front of the dummy, he began a series of slashes. Elbows, knees, armpits... all the joints were his targets and he continues to rain slashes down upon the dummy. Circling and attacking from behind as he went, striking at the back of the knees and armpits. When he had completed a full circle of slashes around his target he ended with a viscous thrust right up and into the wooden throat.

Breathing heavy from his training regiment, the rhaghrnd picked his discarded shirt up from the ground and wiped the sweat from his torso. He knew that fighting a wooden dummy was all well and good, but they only fought back how he imagined them to. What he needed was a live opponent, someone who would attack and surprise him. Perhaps after a short break he would search out another Lion to face off against.