[i]A reading from the Book of Armaments, Chapter 2, versus 9 through 21.

And so did the Legendary Hero advance upon his foes, blade in hand. Held low, did the warrior carry his blade, felling countless foes with his stroke, broad yet controlled. Unwavering was his approach, faltering not from the sheer number of his foes, trusting in the swiftness of his arm and his discipline of the craft. Thus he-[/i]

"I... I can't make sense of any of this." a frustrated voice interrupted. 

The voice belonged to a young boy, borean in appearance, his fair skin dirtied and tanned from weeks of travel. The boy was no older than 18, with roughly hewn brown hair, and slate gray eyes. The boy wore tough, hardened leather over a sturdy green tunic, and impatiently drummed his fingertips on the pommel of a plain, steel longsword, whose point had been thrust into the ground. The boy regarded his instructor, with a frustrated, almost impatient sigh. The two of them had spent the better part of the afternoon merely standing in an open patch of dirt, just off the overgrown and unkempt remains of one of the former kingdoms' many great roads. Their shared beast of burden, stood not too far away from them, content to graze in the grasses as the teacher and student studied. 

"I just don't see how these... [i]stories[/i] have anything to do with fighting." the boy continued.

The youth, Emil, had had a rough time as a child, knowing only that he had to push, shove, and fight for survival. Emil was hardy and perceptive, but impatient and headstrong. Many of his qualities made him seemingly unsuitable for a student, but Hadar found himself drawn to the student's similarities to his own situation. Even so, Emil had proven exceptionally resistant to many of Hadar's teachings.

"Where is your sense of intellectual curiosity?" Hadar replied casually, his voice almost humorous. "Even veterans need to understand theory and fundamentals if they are to become masters."

"With all due respect master, it sounds more like you're telling me a story." Emil said rubbing at the back of his head. "Besides, I've already learned the fundamentals."

"I always thought that the best lessons were learned from stories." Hadar retorted, before he drew his saber from its sheathe. "And no one ever truly finishes learning the fundamentals, my impatient pupil." 

Hadar sighed, "Very well then, if you wish to fight so badly, let us begin."  

Eyeing the saber warily, Emil drew his own blade. Emil had been studying under Hadar for a bit over a year now. Hadar had noticed marked improvements in the boy's technique. No longer did he plant himself on the ground and swing as wildly and forcefully as he could with hopes of battering an opponent into submission- while that technique certainly worked with the common soldier, as he fought the plain bandit or desperate conscript, it had no place when facing off against skilled warriors and armsmen. While some of his old self-taught lessons remained ingrained in his stance, Hadar had seen Emil slowly begin to pick up the idea of outmaneuvering one's opponent, and wearing them down with accurate, precise strokes. 

The two swordsmen cautiously rounded  each other, Emil slowly stepping forward while Hadar held his blade in front of him, the edge and point of his saber slowly dipping towards the ground. Surging forward with a quick upwards cut, Emil recoiled as Hadar quickly slapped the longsword away with the flat of his saber, the sound of steel on steel ringing. "Too predictable, you telegraphed that swing long before you closed the distance." Hadar called out, stepping to the side as he did. Hadar replied to the opening attack with a quick thrust through the air that Emil barely manage to vacate before the blade connected. 

Emil grunted in acknowledgement before he struck again with a vertical chop, followed by a horizontal one, and a series of thrusts. Hadar side stepped the chop and danced away from the rest of Emil's attacks, rewarding the pupil with a slap to the back of his forward leg with the flat of his sabre, sending the pupil stumbling forward. "Watch your balance." Hadar commented as he leaned out of the way of a haphazard counter. Lifting up his foot, he brought a quick push-kick to Emil's now exposed chest, sending him sprawling. "If I had used my sword instead of my foot, you'd be a dead man."

This continued for the next hour or so, Hadar calling out Emil's faults, or applauding his technique as the master and pupil sparred, the ring of clashing blades echoing throughout the open field. Hadar had stopped using wooden training swords after Emil's 3rd month of training, saying that the only way to learn swordplay was to use the weapon you intended to fight with. 

Returning to Clavat, their burden-carrier after the sparring session- Emil panting hard, and Hadar with only a slight glisten of sweat on his brow, Hadar pulled a waterskin off of the beast and tossed it to his pupil. Taking a generous swig from the waterskin, Emil glanced at Hadar, and shook the waterskin upside down a few times. It was empty. They had been on the road for a few weeks now, so it was only natural that their provisions had started to dwindle.

"With luck, the next town won't be abandoned, or stingy with their supplies." Emil commented, as he tossed the empty waterskin at his teacher. "Are you sure we should be heading this way, Master? From what I hear the only thing this way are barbarians and feuding city states."

"Have heart, young Emil." Hadar replied as he caught the empty leather and returned it to its place on their beast. "The winds of destiny have not failed me yet. There is a reason we must go this way- what that reason is, we shall discover soon enough."