Lesson Studied, Lesson Earned

[Chiroptera]

(Continued from Lesson Fought, Lesson Learned (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=4826))

If she’d dreamed while asleep, Eltarri didn’t remember any of her nighttime fixations upon waking to the dappled glow of sunlight that trickled through the leaves of overhead tree boughs. The ground beneath her was hard, but a pillow beneath her face had apparently made the rough terrain comfortable enough to fall asleep on. A cool breeze fluttered over her back, but the front of her body was perfectly warm, as if she’d fallen asleep beside a cozy brazier instead of on the ground in the middle of a forest.

Through eyes blurry from sleep she looked wonderingly at the broad and furred back that rested inches away from her nose, a surface that was shifting with the rhythmic breathing of a sleeper. A sleepy frown crossed her face as it slowly dawned on her that this kind of proximity might a be good reason for alarm, and then something furry and soft that had been resting between her folded arms twitched her attention away and she remembered with a stifled gasp exactly whose back it was.

Corvus!

Instantly tense, Eltarri rolled away from the Highlander as if burned, sliding her arm out from under his tail as discreetly as she could and jerking back in the hope that she hadn’t woken him up. She crawled backwards, blushing furiously at the thought that she’d spent a night within even her short arm’s reach of a man, cuddling with his tail as if it were some kind of living comfort blanket. If her mother ever caught wind of this kind of behavior . . .

She stood up when she had crawled what she thought was a safe distance away from him, frenetically dusting off her clothes and trying to wave away the scent of him that had embedded itself in her hair as she shuffled away. She didn’t remember getting him to give up his shirt for her to use as a pillow, and she certainly didn’t remember asking and receiving permission to use his tail as a teddy bear. What else didn’t she remember about last night?

Eltarri emitted a soft squeak and pressed her hands to her swiftly-heating cheeks, eyes wide as she stumbled backwards out of the clearing, her gaze fixed apprehensively on the form of the furred warrior. Last night . . . there had been an embarassing sparring match, a bear attack, and then she’d fallen asleep in front of the fire and slept like a drunken sailor. Nothing else!

Right?

With a mortified groan she turned and went quickly to the creek she’d bathed in the night before to splash cold water onto her face in an attempt to jolt from her memory any inappropriate behavior or awkward conversation she might have forgotten. When her memory's account of the evening remained unsullied, she sat down in relief on a stone near the water, breathing deeply and trying to regain her composure before she had to face the Highlander again. It wouldn't do to go back acting like a shy schoolgirl, blushing and unable to meet his eyes as if expecting an invitation to some kind of dance.

Your partnership is purely professional, she reminded herself. He’s sticking around to help you take care of that zombie bear infestation that you got paid to eradicate.

The reminder of the day’s promised activities did little to brighten her mood. He'd promised to teach her to use her sword, but why did that have to involve bestial genocide? It was all well and good for someone with Corvus’ proficiency to blithely take on a gang of insanely huge zombie bears for the sake of kicks and giggles and a lousy twenty gold, but what on earth was a pushover like her doing in the company of a competent warrior?

She glumly set her chin onto the palms of her hands and didn’t bother trying to come up with an answer.

[Corvus MacCallum]

Corvus did not have such an active and thought provoking awakening, well certainly not in the same sort of theme as poor Eltarris, his eye-lids trembled and pulled at themselves, blurred light flooding through his recovering eyes. There were no ill feelings of stiff joints, he was designed for sleeping rough but that didn't make his waking up any more graceful or pleasant than the last persons... Highlander warrior able to fell dragons and challenge the length and breadth of taverns in arm wrestling championships... all that had fuck all to do with him in every sense of the phrase, not being a morning person. It took time but those furred hands managed to grasp at the hard soil, arms shaking momentarily before his muscles finally got through the communications issue and realised they were being told to move... eventually with a soft 'flumph' Corvus had drew himself up into a sitting position, a little mystified on why things felt out of place... his sword was near, as was the rest of his gear, glove still attached...

Ah, ballax

The light swishes of his overfluffed tail fur against the ground gave every clue in great detail, his student, had permanently, or temporarily pissed off. A quick cursory glance of the scene told a suprising amount really, his t-shirt still laid there, was warm so she only recently got up, hadn't any stains or been roughly thrown about so violence was out of the question... must have just woken up first and ran off to refresh her head. Slowly his leg lifted, toe-claws scratching white lines along his neck and under the chin, rapid shiftings and then falling back... then came the stretching of jaws, tongue stretching out past gleaming fangs of lethal legacy.

"Guess I better check... "

A quick cough to clear his throat and the subtle request for Eltarri to display her continued existence was let loose upon the air.

" 'Ey El!"

A few moments of silence, he could have sworn he heard a non-rodent squeak and then, shaking through the light easterly breeze it came.

"Over here..."

From his morning face frown he perked up a tad into that trademark smirk and went about fixing himself up, his ungloved hand dipped into the ash of the fire, palm clutching and lifting a fair amount before pressing it to his still unclothed chest, neck and arms... it wasn't all that hot out there but he had picked up this little trick from a Fallien arachnid hunter, helped pick up any residual sweat and eased the odour a tad, if any. With his somewhat blackened form Corvus began rising to his feet, stopping only in mid hunch to scoop his required possessions, namely the large bundle strapped to his pack, buckler and gauntlet... the shirt could stay there for now, as could his Slammer.

It took only a few jauntless steps through some trees, down a small incline, past a moss bush that looked remarkably face-like and then round three turns, third left on the second mushroom patch and bingo... see, simple when you have a good sense of direction. A little bit of distance between him and Eltarri, merely ten or so paces and he began scrubbing at his form with bare hands and water, getting that blackened tint off his skin and into the fast flowing waters. Finally he glanced to the suspiciously quiet and haughtless girl he had chosen to be his pupil, those fangs managing to gleam in the way only shredding bone could acheive.

"Alrighty El, class begins once you've done scrubbing up, gonna be basic sword handling an' ya' even get t'use one tha' sharp, we'll move onto Slammers shortly"

[Chiroptera]

(Bunnying approved.)

The gentle silence of the forest was broken by a rumbling call that echoed against the trees, a call that so startled Eltarri that she let out a high-pitched squeal and nearly jumped out of her seat before she could remind herself that the caller was on her side. Her heart was pounding from a rush of adrenaline, but she was calm enough when the yell came again to shout back a reply.

She heard the rustle of bushes at his approach and didn’t turn when he came past her and went straight to the water to wash. The amount of dirt coming out of his fur made her despondently wonder for a moment if she was unwittingly carrying as much mud on herself. She crossed her legs on her rock, warily eying the Highlander. She didn’t have her sword with her, and she was painfully aware of how vulnerable she was without it. He wasn’t even fully dressed and he still scared her.

He turned to look at her and Eltarri quickly flicked her gaze onto an innocuous and distant point across the water, only looking at him again once he started talking. Overnight she’d somehow forgotten how thick his accent was, and when he finished it took her a moment of silent pondering to decipher what he'd said. Then she frowned.

What did he mean by “move on to Slammers shortly?” Eltarri’s hands fiddled nervously with the cuffs of her red bracers. The only way she was able to wield her sword was with the help of the magical leather that covered her forearms, and they only worked with her father's black blade. How was she going to be able to fake sword competency with a non-enchanted weapon?

“’Basic sword handling?’” She repeated indignantly. “I thought we were going bear-hunting.”

[Corvus MacCallum]

"Bide ye time lass, dere be no rush jus' yet... sides yer me fir' pupil, dunnae wan' tae go draggin' ye off unprepared... now git on o'oer 'ear"

Smirking the Highlander finished up with his bathing duties and simply dropped the tightly bound shape in his grip along with his buckler and then fell upon his hands and with a bit of knee twisting, feet. A thorough shaking brought a flurry of water up out of him, looking all the more rough and shaggy but he was certainly clean now, a vagabond traveller he may be, blood-soaked and gore-stained often yes... but he knew how to get himself clean. With that sorted his still wet palms pushed against the ground, flinging his body-weight backwards and with a shift of heel managed to kill his momentum to end up sitting in a vertical sense, those palms then went to work at snatching up and unwrapping the tightly bound shape, he hadn't been entirely sure of how well the weapon would stand up to rough travelling and so when not doing short spurts of journies kept it bound up.

Revealed from the ragged cloth was a very simple brown leather sheath, jutting from one end was a barren but heavily chipped hilt, the handle seemed to have had its leather wrappings removed and then replaced judging from the excess material dangling off the end. That was soon hidden however as Corvus grasped the weapon and dragged it from the hardened cow-skin prison, revealing a blade that looked woefully injured and yet still holding the power a fresh blade would possess. He didn't hold it in any magnificent way, just to the side, flipping it over a few times to check out his own handiwork, once that blade had suffered with its surface being covered in decorative swirls and patterns... reduced to being the fancy blade of a slaver, he had solved that.

" 'Ere we go, got a nice 'eft to it but nae too heavy, you should be able to swing it abou' fairly well wit' two 'ands an' tha' exactly what I'm looking fer... now, a blade cuts differently depending on where it cuts, nae talking abou' armour an' t'like... nah, ah mean t'blade itself... roun' da top 'ere is abou' where ya should be slashing wit' yer Slammer an' now you 'ave to learn tae do it the hard way wit' weight an' your own body moving it, nae some fancy enchantment al'ight lass?"

He figured there'd be some complaint and so simply chucked the sword near where her plopping stone was, a hurl like a javelin though with far more air-borne time than his own Slammer back when they first met and there it swung gently, the broad-sword jutting upright from the soil. Meanwhile Corvus began fixing his buckler onto that grand and powerful right sided manipulator of the physical realm known as his arm, all those bloody clasps and secure straps were not fun to toy around with. That done he then scooped up the sheath and gave it a few quick slashes, from around the half-way point downwards it was gilded with simple steel and blunt, something nice and solid for Eltarris swings to catch.

"Grab it when ya ready"

[Chiroptera]

More stupefying than the onslaught of heavily-accented instruction, Eltarri was blown away by the gently-rocking sword that was now sticking out of the ground a few feet away from her crossed legs. A wave of sheer panic had hit her as he’d lofted the blade; she could almost feel the cold metal sticking through her chest even though it wasn’t anywhere near enough to be dangerous. She stared at it for a while, hiding her chagrin at his blithe reference to the enchantment on her weapon that she’d been hoping he hadn’t noticed. Then she turned a steely glare onto the Highlander, who stood with just a shield-looking thing strapped to his arm and the sheath of the flea-bitten blade that he obviously expected her to pick up.

She almost opened her mouth to retort, but his expectant expression made her slowly uncurl her legs and get off the rock instead, stepping over to the sword and laying one hand on the mangy hilt to stop its swaying. The sword was as ugly as a pock-marked street brawler, and it looked just about as ferocious. It was about the same height of her own sword, but it was of shinier metal, with many nicks and scratches on the blade that made her think that it wasn’t of the same quality. The thought made her hopeful that it might be lighter.

It better be, she thought grimly, because otherwise I'm not going to be able to pick it up.

Eltarri resignedly wrapped her hands around the hilt and gave Corvus a glance that prohibited laughter, then yanked the sword out of the ground as though it were some kind of moth-eaten Excalibur. It came free with barely a struggle, and the half-elf tottered back as the weight of the sword knocked her off balance. With a muttered curse she set the tip of the weapon onto the ground and changed her hands’ positions so that she could see if she actually could lift it. The tip rose about two feet off the ground before she let it settle back onto the earth. It was heavy, no doubt about that, but not completely beyond her weight capacity.

Bracing her feet, she tightened her arms again and pulled the sword to a vertical position with only a slight grunt to show her effort. She rotated her wrists to rock the blade back and forth in front of her face, trying to accustom herself to the full weight of an actual sword. There was something dangerously exciting about handling a weapon that didn't belong to her, especially since it proved that she wasn't quite as weak as she looked.

“No problem,” she said, looking triumphantly at Corvus. “Now what?”

[Corvus MacCallum]

"Now lass, comes ta tricky part"

With a quiet chuckle he slowly started to approach the halfing that caught his eye, he was trying to give a nice positive air for this training session, show Eltarri that he was hoping for her sucess, in reality he was hoping for her sucess and fully beleived she could manage it... but... well, he really detested using just a sheath as a weapon, so light and unbalanced. He felt like some foppish rogue with those thin bladed rapiers, all their fancy moves and with a blade that flimsy beleiving they should stab, any warrior with their salt knew the best course of action was to catch it, either in shield, hand or shoulder and then snap the blade.

Drawing up near to the girl Corvus gave that very lightly trembling sword a light tap with the end of the sheath, she had a good grip and this would certainly help the girl realise how advantageous weight can be. It was less a niggling thought at the back of his mind, more a blatant obvious fact staring him in the face that Eltarri lifted her blade through magical means and now bereft of this, the girl would learn why swords have weights and balances taken into consideration.

"Now, firs' off lets see 'ow ya 'andle a few quick swings, come at me, any angle... start slow till ya git t'feel fer the weapon"

Sword swinging itself was not something that need to be trained, anyone could pick up a stick and swing it the same way a pro could, it was all the considerations and tactics wrapped around those swings that made a swordsman skillful. Swinging your blade to move with the curve of your opponents armour and then quickly thrust upwards into one of the seams when you felt the clunking descent, or when blades were locked quickly spinning your blade to knock a small gap in the clash, then know enough to spin and strike them as their force carries them onwards. For now, as a Slammer user, this girl was going to learn how to use weight to improve a swing and how to force her body to break momentum.

"Jus' think a' me as a tavern goer tha' thinks yer nuttin but a kid, runty one a' tha' "

Heheh, that's bound to get a reaction

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri unconsciously cringed at the tap of his sheath on the sword in her grasp. It wasn’t even a hard rap, but her hands had tightened around the hilt as if he’d tried to take off her head. She wasn’t used to the idea that she really had to keep herself alive, that her bracers wouldn’t control her movements to make sure that she didn’t end up as chopped liver at the feet of an opponent.

The girl frowned slightly as his next words, taking a measured step back in case he tried anything funny. A few quick swings? How could any movement of a sword this big be quick? She perked up as he spoke again, hoping he’d suggest something that would relieve some of the tension in her white-knuckled fingers, but instead his taunting words made her face darken further.

Story of my life. How did he know the reaction that she got at every tavern, inn, or store that she stepped into? One would think that having pointy ears and a big black sword would earn a person a little respect, but she was constantly belittled in the presence of men, scoffed at and joked about as though she were no more than . . . than a runty kid with a stolen weapon that she couldn’t handle. The reminder made her want to curl into a ball and cry, but it also made a flash of anger jump through her skull, a bolt of annoyance directed not at the nameless jeerers and the laughing drunks, but at the tall man standing so confidently in front of her.

Was he trying to make her angry on purpose? He certainly knew which buttons to push to catch her ire, but she’d always thought that being angry would inhibit one’s ability to fight; replace reason with rage, or something like that. Was he trying to get her to make a stupid attack so that he could make her learn from her mistakes? Maybe he just wanted her to make a stupid attack so that he could have a good laugh at her before he soundly whipped her with a sheath.

Nice try, buddy.

Darting a sly grin at Corvus in acknowledgment of his devious tricks, Eltarri bent her knees and took a small step back, then twisted her wrists so that the sword dropped towards her right. It fell faster than she intended, but when it had fallen to a horizontal position a little below the line of her waist, she twisted her body and changed the sword’s direction with a grunt, bringing it into a hard swing at a slightly upwards angle towards the Highlander.

[Corvus MacCallum]

"Don't dare stop!"

It seemed a cryptic command as the sword came towards him, then out lunged that buckler, smashing against the scarred blade and then guiding his pupil to have the sword continuing its move, this time a tad more horizontal... he needed her to feel the momentum, to build up speed with each swing and control the natural pull of the sword to fit her needs. A slammer was either seen as a joke or a useful tool, few understood its value as a weapon and Corvus strived to bring that fact into the public eye, this young girl would be able to fell beasts far larger than her with the right skill and with a bit of luck she'd gain that from him. With the attack guided Corvus began to lash out with the sheath... well a mock swing, was fast but had no force, he needed her to respond, to put all her bodies mass into bringing the sword right round and protect her back, to eliminate the weakness inherent in turning and spinning.

The Highlander had most definately been trying to get her angry but not to cause a bad attack, but to help the girl control it, not repress or push aside but control. Cold hard thinking and cool logic, Corvus had witnessed their failure many times in the face of real fear, that rope that wraps your heart and then crushes the pumping organ as the material knots itself... that emotion which can freeze your feet to the floor and even make you forget to swallow drool. Anger was something he had personally found to kill that feeling, to cut right through that rope strangling your heart and lash back out in a fury that will bring about the death of your target... but directionless anger in a fight was too often a mistake, thats why he wanted her to get to grips with it, grab that hatred with both hands and then mould it to her purposes.

Looks cute when trying to be tricky heh

Exactly how good a teacher he could be utterly escaped the wolf-man, at the least, if she can take a bear down by herself it was a sure sign he suceeded, from what he'd seen before the sight of them had been too much for her nerves, brave, stubborn, nerves of steel, these were very difficult to maintain when faced with something you just weren't expecting, suprise was a horrible bastard. If he could get the girls confidence up to match her skill and hope an ego didn't develop she'd be able to pick herself up after tripping back when a bear pounces out and then defend...

Well its a nice thing to hope for...

[Chiroptera]

"Don't dare stop!"

In her surprise at the sudden order, Eltarri would have done exactly that if her momentum would have allowed any change in motion whatsoever. The chipped blade of her sword glanced off the buckler on his arm, not so much a block as it was a deflection that rattled her teeth and sent her weapon swinging wide, forcing her to pivot into a spin to keep her balance. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him raising the sheath, preparing for a swipe at her now unprotected back.

Blast. The girl gritted her teeth in frustration. With her lack of control, of course he wouldn't bother with a full-out block. The deflection now left her back wide open for an easy strike, something that anyone with half a brain would have at least considered as a possible point of weakness before throwing herself into an uncontrolled swing. Why did she let herself be so easy to defeat?

But she was still in motion, still coming back around with the sword. Don‘t stop, he'd said. As dizzy as spinning around like an idiot would make her, maybe she could use her current, vulnerable position to her own advantage. How fast could a person pirouette with a weight like this sword for an anchor?

Eltarri threw her shoulders back, pulling her weight sideways and tightening her hands once again around the hilt of the blade. The trees around her blurred as her spin quickened, and by the time she'd come all the way around to face Corvus again, the sword in her hands was slashing at the incoming sheath in a faster, harder attack than the one that had preceded it.

[Corvus MacCallum]

That was exactly what he wanted, just a shame he wouldn't be able to counter it all that effectively, a second whacking sword would have been very handy but no he was stuck with a hard sheath and a metal end... it wasn't solid enough for him to block with the body and the tip would just get knocked aside. But while it was a quick swing of the arm it had no real force behind it, the weapon itself had no real weight and so he merely attempted a speedy withdraw, his reaction times were a tad better than someone who was for the first time in their fighting career, going with the flow. He wasn't through however, as her head came round along with the weapon his buckler clad arm came up in the opposite direction her swing was carrying now.

"Now break tha' speed an' coom right ba' fer me, hit me come on!"

Not that he had time to reflect but a mind can work a mile a minute in the right situation, this wasn't exactly it but a few dreams last night had spawned thoughts he could quickly pursue. Pondering back to his original teacher in the way of the Slammer and that term was very very loose, a man called Bronen, he was just a simple, straight forward warrior and was no master but knew how to swing a blade about but it was Bronen that saw the Highlanders strength.

Simply hurling a sword about would get me nowhere, spinning and swirling around would result in nothing but a dizzy head and a predictable attack pattern...

It was something that made the muscles ache, could make your knuckles glare with the sheer white of determination, to break that swords momentum, counter the weight you rely on for its cutting strength and force its power to your own direction. A weapon is the extension of a warriors will, it is not a guiding beacon, or a path for you to walk down.

Think Bronen said it best, a sword, however powerful is like a hikers cane, it is not a sign post nor a crossroad

[Chiroptera]

She had been feeling a little proud of herself for the quickness of her swipe, but Corvus merely stepped out of the way as if she were dragging the weapon through mud, unimpressed by the velocity of the attack. His unaffectedness made her irrationally bitter. Sure, it probably wouldn't have been a very powerful hit, but shouldn't she get some kind of credit for the speed? She should at least get some kind of recognition for being able to spin around and around without getting seasick.

His shield-covered arm came up as she swept past him, obviously as a target that she was supposed to try to turn around and hit, but without any kind of transfer of energy she was still in spinning mode, and changing direction seemed a task far beyond anything she could manage at the moment.

You have no control! The berating voice was her own, backed by a self-directed anger that didn’t help her feel any more confident with the weapon in her hands. Break her speed? She didn’t have any idea of how to stop her momentum without letting go of the sword or somehow jamming it into the ground. She had a brief image of her swordless self trying to fight Corvus in hand to hand combat, and it was ridiculous enough that she tucked the picture away for a good laugh later.

She knew that the sword was capable of imparting damage, but the thought never crossed the half-elf’s mind that she might be able so hurt someone with the weapon. It wasn’t just the fact that the sword looked to have gone through the digestive system of a constipated dragon, but she had so little confidence in her own skill that the only person she was worried about hurting was herself. Her spinning was carrying the sword past Corvus again, and she was embarrassingly afraid that she might have to make another loop if she didn’t somehow stop herself.

Abandoning thought, Eltarri acted on instinct, taking a half-leaping sidestep to throw her weight towards Corvus as she rotated her wrists to reverse the direction of the sword’s swing. There was a protesting twinge from the muscles in her now leading right arm, but the sword was swinging in the opposite direction, towards her right. The problem was that now she was close enough to Corvus that the buckler was directly behind her back, and instead of heading for his protected arm, her sword was making a sweeping path towards his right shoulder.

[Corvus MacCallum]

It might have had a highly chipped and scratched flat, but there was nothing dented or dulled of the swords edge, it was still a very lethal and to Corvus at least, a weapon that had pride.

A weapon... coming right for me, aww shite

He had expected if anything the girl would go away from him if she didn't get it right, coming towards was something he hadn't planned for, like nearly everything in his entire life... but certainly not something he couldn't deal with. Was a little myth that Highlanders saw things at a different pace than other people, that they had such a natural grasp of combat they were able to witness every flex of muscle and movement resulting in an incredibly evasive and dangerous foe. In truth thats all bollucks, but when you have an adrenal gland the size of an orange and a heart thats strong enough to pull a castle with just raw strength, your mind could work in quite a quick way when excited.

His left heel twisted itself against the ground, giving his knee joint just the right angle to bring himself lower, needed to be lower still, hunching his back forwards, spinning as he came down towards the ground to bring his back into Eltarris path, hunching further and as he felt the wind of the blade rush past him...

Better not have wrecked me hair...

The unscatched mane of black, white streaked hair quickly rose up, as did Corvus himself, Eltarris swing now placing her own back within reaching distance and he definately reached out, one hand grabbed at her mid-riff, the other immediately grasping for that lead arm. Even with her speed and momentum it didn't take much for the girl to be halted, there she was... Eltarri, who had never really been near a bloke in a non-violent sense, the Highlanders arm wrapped around her waist, his other grasping her hand and holding tight to halt the sword. He didn't let go either, the main reason being, she was bound to flail and attempt to get away, thats fine and all but not when waving such a lethal weapon and likely to be unaware of just where its gonna wind up.

"Wow, wow, ease it dun' lass... good stuff bu' ease it dun' "

[Chiroptera]

She hadn’t really thought that he’d let her hit him, but it still surprised her when he dodged out of her way. It wasn’t as if the sword would have gone through him, and he didn't have a real weapon to fight her with, but the fact that she had come near enough to make him evade sent a thrill of pride down her spine. She, the 'runty kid,' had made the great half-wolf warrior duck.

The Highlander popped up behind her, and Eltarri was already tightening her arms for another wild spin at his head when her motion was abruptly stopped by an iron-like arm that ensnared her torso and another grasp that fixed itself onto her sword-clenching right hand. Momentum made her hit the forearm around her waist with enough force that she thought she’d bounce right off, but instead she found herself securely restrained by the Highlander’s furry arms.

If Corvus’ grip on her hand hadn’t secured her hold of the hilt, she would have dropped the sword and skittered away like a frightened rabbit. As it was, her fingers tightened with every other muscle in her body as the girl went instantly tense, swallowing a yelp and doing her best to hide her reaction. Get a grip, he’s your teacher!

Corvus’ proximity had her thinking again of her mother’s disapproving frown and the pillow that had turned out to be his shirt and the tail . . . he was so close that she could smell him! Not that it was an unpleasant scent, but it was certainly him, the most concentrated and intense dose of eau de homme that she had been exposed to since the urine-tainted surprise embrace of Ryber the rancher.

Assuming that the hold was the uncomfortable next part of her training, Eltarri was getting ready to start using her one free arm and legs to thrash her way out of the awkward position when he spoke, and even though she was too flustered to understand what he was saying through his accent, his tone reminded her of the kind of cooing horse riders used to calm fussy mounts.

Great. Now he thinks he has to restrain me like some kind of rabid wildcat.

The thought was somehow relieving, but it was also very annoying. She pulled the sword away from her trapped hand with the other one, which was promptly jerked down as the full weight of the sword on one arm pulled the blade down until the tip hit the ground. She then slid her right hand out of his grip, twisting around his other arm until she was free of his hold and a foot or two away from him, where she gave him a haughtily unaffected look and leaned daintily on the hilt of the Highlander’s sword.

“As you can see,” she said airily, “I’m perfectly eased. Are we going to keep on with this lesson or can we go kill some bears?”

It wasn’t that she was particularly eager to get off to the killing, but she was feeling unaccountably nervous and wanted to be doing something that would yield more tangible results. She was also missing her black sword and the comfort that her magical bracers gave her when it was in her grasp. The unattractive blade in her hand was a dangerous stranger, but her own red-hilted sword was like an old friend, one of the few things in her life that she’d grown to reliably depend on. Even if she did require the bracers to even pick it up, the fact remained that the sword was hers, as familiar and adjacent as a limb or extremity. Eltarri’s eyes flickered to Corvus’ tail and she had to work hard to stifle a grin. Yeah. Like that.

[Corvus MacCallum]

Should we?... nah not just yet, she needs to get used to this on her regular blade

"Nah no' jus' yet lass, bu' we'll go grab our Slammers... did a good job, only trouble is, we gotta work out 'ow tha' Slammer 'andles, without feeling t'weight momentum breaking an' using all its force could be a righ' bastard"

A flash of a smirk and Corvus started off on his way back to their little bare earth camp site, so far she'd knocked over his Slammer, provided one of the zombie bears with a strong cutting edge and now nearly taken his head off, she was turning out to be a decent bit of training for himself... he was tempted to take that broadsword off her but nah, he was interested in seeing if she'd play around with it on the travel. That tone of voice nagged at him a bit though, just how casual she was trying to act, he did not want an ego forming from her barely developed skills, confidence was perfect, thats exactly what she needs but egos were dangerous things. Perhaps it was time for a story!... well maybe in a minute when one graced the Highlanders mind.

His time with Bronen wasn't anything like this, it wasn't a master pupil setting, it was just some old guy looking to give his views on how a weapon should be handled, years he'd swung that sword the human body couldn't handle that normally... not in advanced years. When the Highlander met Bronen he was just barely hanging together physically, only a few months away from complete fighting retirement, or at least having to lower himself to a smaller weapon. Was in the Salvar snow plains, just himself and Bronen, nothing but a pup stepping out for a bit of violence and then came that mild mannered barbarian, the most suprising thing to Corus was, Bronen had never been better than the wolf, he wasn't designed to use a slammer so visciously, he just had a different way of thinking and it complimented the Wolf-mans tastes very well.

The untrodden path back to the camp seemed a bit longer this time, but then he was keeping pace with El, she wasn't slow but walking with her didn't give him the opportunity to leap from tree to tree, or smash through a thicket... not that he could exactly do it here, place was a tad barren for that. The girl was making him very nostalgic, bringing his accent back, thinking on how he left the village and now Bronen... maybe he should head back for a little visit. Couldn't help but smirk at that notion, the mighty warrior Corvus returns, with a runty looking pupil that could best quite a few warriors, probably not the way his mother intended him to return with a girl.

When the forest broke up leaving just the clearing they had slept the night before Corvus flicked his gaze behind him to the halfling, deciding just to throw out the offer and see how she'd feign indifference with her answer.

"After we wipe out these bears, you fancy coming with me on a little region-wide jaunt lass?"

He could almost swear he heard the girls breath catch as he wandered onwards, driving that empty sheath underneath his buckler to rest along his arm, safely out of his grip the Highlander knealt down and then with one quick pull ripped his Slammer up from the dried earth, a quick turn to get the flat present and then letting it land upon his shoulder.

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri blinked in surprise and had to jog a few steps, dragging the sword behind her, to catch up with the Highlander. She hadn’t expected him to be so responsive to her suggestion. Her mother had always taken a different approach to her complaints during lessons in reading and writing, forcing the girl to continue to toil until the half-elf was convinced that she’d be doing that one thing for the rest of her life before she was allowed to take a break.

They weren’t going to kill the bears, but her mood brightened considerably at the thought of getting her sword back. She walked impatiently, wishing she could toss the shabby weapon she carried into the woods. Who needed it when they had a Slammer to go home to? She wanted to break into a run to get back to her black blade, but the weight of the sword in hand kept her pace down. A worrisome thought niggled at the back of her mind. Was she becoming too dependent on her own sword? If she grew too attached, what would she do if something ever happened to it? The thought was too painful to consider.

She looked up in surprise when Corvus confidently began his sentence with the unshakeable self-assurance that she was already jealous of. No uncertain or hopeful if; for the tailed warrior it was always when. The rest of his sentence made her almost stop walking, her surprise showing on her face before she could affix a mask of cool detachedness that she'd learned from her mother. She wasn’t quite sure of what a “region-wide jaunt” was, but was he really inviting her to accompany him, to prolong the partnership of which she guiltily took the role of useless deadweight? As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was basically incapable of keeping herself alive, and there was no reason to assume that her luck would pull her out of another dangerous situation. It wasn’t as though she had any idea of where to look for help with her mother anyway, and wandering around with a scary-looking warrior who could teach her how to fight at least seemed a positive step in the way of prolonging her life.

Her thoughts jumped suspiciously to an ulterior and less-than-gentlemanly motive that he might have for her continued presence, but she dismissed the notion as ridiculous before it had time to take root. He hadn’t given any indication that she was anything more to him than an incompetent source of amusement, a pat-on-the-head pupil who practically needed help getting dressed in the morning. They weren’t far apart in age, but in life experience he was eons older than she, and his seasoned worldliness made her feel like the naïve and immature child that she probably was.

By the time her mind had churned over the question enough to give her enough of an opinion to make an answer, Corvus had uprooted his Slammer from the earth and was now carrying it over his shoulder as if it were no more heavy than a walking staff. Eltarri’s gaze settled with distaste on the massive blade. She hated that thing, possibly unreasonably, but it made her wish she had a good hot fire and a forging hammer so that she could turn it into a big feeding trough for farm animals. Not that in reality she’d ever be able to even lift it up, or that she’d go any nearer to it than she absolutely had to, but it was pleasant to think of blank-eyed goats nibbling hay off its gleaming surface. Her chest was still sore from where it had sandwiched her against the ground. Realizing that he was probably still waiting for an answer, Eltarri shrugged and tried to come across as a self-possessed young woman who had at least a smidgen of an idea of what maturity was.

“It would be my pleasure to accompany you on ‘a region-wide jaunt’,” she said graciously, teasingly trying to imitate his accent as she repeated the last phrase. Then a thought occurred to her and her small smile turned self-deprecating. “If I haven’t managed to get myself killed by the end of the day, that is.”

[Corvus MacCallum]

It wasn't that he had really finished the training with her using his broadsword, but really it only gave a taste of she could acheive, plus whatever magical enchantment she had might mean she never feels the weight of that weapon... something he'd love to rectify.

Plus taking on a sword with its sheath can be a tad hazardous for quick learners

The Highlander couldn't help but smirk on the inside as he glanced to Eltarri, he could have sworn there was a hate-filled glare going right to his blade, he didn't know what had happened but he was highly amused in just working it out, possibly squished like a long earred bug. His smirk came right out onto the wolf-mans scruffy features however on her reply, it was amusing to hear a tone of voice his pupil should one day be using without a hint of acting, then came the statement that just screamed of a lack of confidence.

"If ya pay attention ye got nae ta worry 'bout lass"

With that said he started to walk on up to her, that imposing blade, the tall figure and of course all that raw beastial instinct that emanated from him in an almost palpable aura... all that was ruined by the fact his lips were slanted in a cheeky chappy smirk that meant you were in store for a wedgie or noogie rather than being cleaved in two. None of those things happened though, there were lessons to teach after all, but first time to get a distraction out of the road, simply shifting his arm Corvus brought the sheath down onto the scarred blade of his Broadsword and with a light flicked brow to Eltarri felt those fingers release and free up his sword. Now came the tricky part, with a few shifts of his chin and shoulder the Highlander adjusted his Slammers position upon the left shoulder, balancing the huge weapon just about, his left hand flicking out quickly to clasp two straps on either side of the broadswords handle and secure it in place.

Dare I show off more?... nah

He let his gloved hand return to the Slammer, each finger wrapping around positions that they had done so many times, those exact positions he had used to slaughter opponents and slay monsters, he no longer had to look at the weapon to grasp it in the most optimun way. Still, despite how he'd cleaved two zombie bears in a few directions it had been a whole night since the lump of iron had been swung, best sort that out. The forest green eyes which grew within his skull peered about the clearing, something sturdy... perfect.

"Go gra' ya' blade an' we'll get 'iss started"

A claw was jabbed in the direction of her dormant blade before the Highlander himself headed for the tree he'd eyed up just moments before, was just a rather thick trunked tree but with a bend half-way up, just enough for a foot-hold. With a push off the ground Corvus stabbed his foot-claws into the things bark, gaining enough purchase to immediately push up and off, repeating this motion twice more before his toes felt a relatively level surface meeting them upon landing. Now with a good base he kicked right off again, shreds of bark falling free from between his toes as the Highlander sped into the air, both hands grasped the Slammer handle and made to bring it downwards, this wasn't control though and so he had learned to adapt this little practice a tad to be more effective. As he swung the blade started tilting to his right side, away from the trees and into the air of the clearing, it was almost fully side-ways when the ground was nearly upon him, quickly he thrust a knee up, foot just barely getting the angle to be landed upon, his other knee shifting to allow his landing impact to spread along the shin, then he pushed once more, turning his ankle as he did so, a roll that brought him side-ways and allowed him to reangle the Slammer before as he came to a halt there was a mighty smash of iron against barren soil and rock.

From his crouched position the Highlander brought himself up, retreiving his sword with a sharp tug from the several inch deep trench he had just carved from the forceful impact, a few shakes guiding the less shapely clumps of soil right back into the trench they had been expelled from. Then there was another swing of the blade, right up above him, feeling his body get pulled with it but kept his claws dug in until he felt the sword hit resistance, quickly allowing his foot-holds to weaken. Up he sailed and around, pulling now with his arms to bring his body-weight up and over the sword, before finally landing once more. But for all his great performing he was a bit ticked off and quickly let his right hand leave the handle and patted it against his trousers.

"Bleh palms all sweaty now"

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri was more than relieved to be rid of the Highlander’s ratty sword, though she’d involuntarily tensed at his armed approach. He had the kind of grin on his face that made her instantly wary, mistrustfully watching his every move to make sure he didn’t try some kind of ear-touching funny business. She let go of the broadsword’s hilt cheerfully, though, watching his precariously-perched Slammer warily as he dealt with the puny-by-comparison blade.

At his brisk command, she followed the trail of his pointed claw without remark, swallowing the proud indignation that made her want to refuse just on the sake of principle. Why was she so loath to follow orders? There was no reason for her discontentment, but she still walked with mutinously slothful steps towards her sword, fighting the lurch in her chest that made her want to run to and coddle the big black blade. Her nervousness about the bear fight was just increasing as the morning wore on. She could barely focus on the training at hand for an instant before her mind jumped to what the afternoon had in store for them.

As Eltarri reached her sword, she heard some kind of vigorous activity behind her, but she refused to turn around, bending down to pick up her sword and giving the hilt a loving stroke with her back to the other side of the clearing. She’d seen the grin on his face. He was probably doing something intentionally dangerous and threatening, just to get a scream out of her. The sounds kept coming, though, and since they weren’t interspersed with snorts of furtive laughter, the half-elf deigned to turn as she pulled the various straps of her harness over her shoulders and around her waist.

At first the girl merely frowned when her eyes landed on an empty clearing, but then she stepped needlessly back with an alarmed gasp as the Highlander came barreling out of the sky, sword whistling in a rapid charge at the earth. She watched his antics with undisguised interest, wondering just how long it took for a person to become that handy with a weapon. She pulled the clasp on her harness and carried her sword in her right hand as she walked back towards the Highlander, noting the fussy hand-wipe with a touch of amusement.

“I don’t know what the ground ever did to harm you,” she said with a grin, “but if you can pull off moves like that, why am I coming on the bear hunt in the first place?”

She spoke in jest, because she already knew the answer. She was the one who’d promised Ryber relief from the cattle-threatening menace, and even though she hadn’t known that delivering on that vow would include having to hunt down and kill off what may end up being a whole flock of slobbering zombies, her word was still her honor, and it was one of the few untarnished things that she had left to hang onto. Her pride, her dignity, her virtue, all had been chipped and torn in the course of her journeys. But with Corvus’ help, with this good deed, maybe she could hope to start repairing what her foolishness had damaged.

"Okay, let's get this done," she said shortly, not giving him a chance to answer her last question. He probably would just have said something carelessly reassuring, like Oh, you won't die if you know what you're doing or Believe in yourself and you can do anything or some other tidbit of non-encouraging wisdom. She wasn't looking forward to having to fend his boat-sword again, but her insides were churning with anxiety. "Show me what I can do to kill some nasty bears."

[Corvus MacCallum]

Bunnying approved

"Okay well first off, hold your sword in the way you feel comfortable, a lot of warriors beleive in the idea of stances, thinking the way you hold your weapon defines all your power.... to me, thats utter bollucks, you fight best when you're comfortable with how you stand and feel natural in how the weights distributed"

As he spoke those mentorish phrases Corvus himself entered into his own stance of the day, it changed every day, every battle... for now, on this terrain, with this kind of breeze and time of day... this was what felt comfortable. Plus he always did enjoy testing himself out, for now, one hand held that gigantic blade of flesh severing delight, a few trembles now and then with each breath but he managed to keep it pointed towards his pupil, his free hand simply clenching tight and hanging near the side... legs apart and knees bent to get some good springy force.

"By the end of this we should both be a tad more confident heheh... the Slammers are monster hunting blades, they were never designed to be used on single human sized opponents, being so cumbersome and heavy most warriors would laugh at anyone weilding such a huge sword beleiving they coud take on a fencer, or speedy katana weilder"

His smirk grew, displaying one side of those fangs and narrowing his forest green eyes a tad, all that spiked hair playing across his fore-head and brow before he gave a nod to Eltarri and gave a quick-step forward, swinging his blade hard to the side. As he expected Eltarris magical enchantment caused that sword to move faster than she'd be capable of just yet, but he could see that yesterday had taught her the lesson of blind defence and put her shoulder against it, he wasn't going to be too easy on the girl... his strength and experiance had been ripped from all his opponents and trials, nothing had come easy even with the power of being a Highlander. He didn't want this girls path to be cheapened by having things given away without the required blood, sweat and tears... she was going to be able to fight because she knows she can by having done it.

With the two blades clashing he watched as the halfling girl was nearly pulled from the ground, he had a lot less control swinging with one hand but for her to push back now was a lot more possible without playing possum.

"Now come on!... that weapons not for show and you aren't some helpless little girl, push me back and bring me down!"

The Highlander detested orders and yet here he was barking them at the deceptively fragile girl, he could feel her pushing against him, those unsavage teeth being exposed as her neutral expression faultered from the pure exertion of pushing him back. Slowly at first but he could feel it, she was using her own strength against him, the awkward angle of his arm making it acheivable even with her lithe form. Quickly the Wolf-man swung his arm back, his left foot digging into the ground and sweeping behind him, he continued to spin, his back was presented to the girl, her blade swinging for him... but as he continued turning around that buckler clad arm came around to the incoming blade and then they met. Her swords flat was struck... by cheap metal, slamming his buckler against the weapon and sending it hurtling down into the ground, jamming the point into the dirt and halting her sweeping slice.

"Good El, now don't you dare let this stop you, you can get by it easily"

[Chiroptera]

“Stop me?” Eltarri muttered acerbically, “I wouldn’t dream of stopping.”

She let her sword rest in the dirt for a few seconds, panting slightly as she glared up into the laughing eyes of the Highlander. Why did everybody feel that it was necessary to refer to her as a ‘little girl’? Even if he was just trying to get a rise out of her, the lack of tact made her highly indignant. Aside from that, her shoulder was still tingling from the impact of sword on sword on deltoid. She considered reminding the Highlander that the shoulder had been used the night before as a zombie bear’s swatting site, but she refrained when further consideration brought her to the conclusion that he wouldn’t have much pity.

Merciless hybrid. He DESERVES to get smacked from behind by a girl half his size. The sweet irony of the prospect made her smile.

She was surprising herself with her own ferocity. The Highlander’s unprotected back had seemed a very appealingly sliceable target, and it hadn’t deterred her at all to think that hitting him might hurt him. She just wanted to wipe that smug little smirk off his face and get him to take her seriously. Not to mention that she was already dreading the next clash of his evil weapon. While defending his first hit, it had seemed somewhat logical that the force of her whole body pitted against his single arm might yield some kind of slight victory in her favor, but the warrior had quickly corrected her misconception of their respective strengths and now she was once again being waited on to deliver a sorry, easily-deflected blow.

I definitely need some kind of superpowers. If he knew about her bracers, which seemed likely considering how little concern he'd given to the delivery of his first potentially-dangerous blow, then she was left without a single advantage in a one-on-one fight with a trained warrior.

“All right, you asked for it,” she said in a facetiously threatening voice. “I’m not going to take it easy on you anymore.”

Rather than embarrassing herself by yanking the blade out of the ground, Eltarri twisted her hands on the hilt and took a step around the blade, pulling the hilt after her so that the sword levered free of the dirt rather than coming out by the same path that it had used for entry. As soon as the sword shifted, however, she sidestepped towards Corvus and pulled the sword at a slant from the ground into a curving arc that made the blade swipe point-down towards his waist as though she had yanked it from a scabbard on her hip.

[Corvus MacCallum]

"I wouldn't be a very good teacher if you had to heheh"

He grinned and while still turning quickly released his blade, twisting his wrist around and then grabbed hold of it firmly the blade now extending along his fore-arm and beyond, as Eltarris strike came upward the flat of his blade clashed against the black iron sword clasped by this curious young girl. Right on impact he released the Slammer, letting Eltarris own efforts knock his own up, the periliously unstable flight path having the blade bring its edge upwards to the sky, its handle coming closer... closer and then at the peak of its slant his right hand grasped hold of the roughly bound material slung around the grip and then it was followed by his left.

"Can feel it can't you heheh?... the adrenaline pumping..."

He brought that Slammer down upon her own, forcing it back to the ground and pinning the girl momentarily, he decided she should hear this part and while fun to hear, the smashing of metal on metal was easy to hide a conversational point.

"... When we're done no braggart will dare mock you, nor will you need to mock yourself..."

His grin reduced itself but it became just all the more sincere, he was smiling and very pleased at the girls speedy progress, it had only been a few swings but she was showing real force to it, putting her body into the motions instead of clinging to her sword like a scared rabbit...

She'd look cute lop-earred heheh...

His blade rose off from hers, withdrawing that blade to his side and then with a hard side-swipe was aiming to attack the girl around the chesticalogical region, a very simple strike but there was a lesson to be had.

"Don't block this El, attack it, smash it back"

[Chiroptera]

Smash it back? She didn’t have time to verbalize her objection, but the protest rose in her throat anyway. She wasn’t a ‘smash it back’ kind of girl! He’d caught her off-guard when he’d let her knock his sword into the air, and she could even forgive the jarring impact of the following strike on the grounds that the move had been pretty impressive. She’d never even thought of catch-releasing a weapon. Normally she was so intent on keeping her trembling fingers wrapped around the hilt that fancy moves like that weren‘t even considerable.

Sword is friend, not foe. The adage was one lesson that not even her attachment to her own sword could convince her.

Corvus’ iron feeding trough was coming at her from the side again, and though her black blade was once again kissing the earth, Eltarri had an inkling of what she needed to do to keep him from swatting her across the clearing. She twisted her torso in the opposite direction of the approaching blade and pulled her sword up until it was pointing towards the sky. The vertical sword was now on the opposite side of her body from the Slammer, but before she could make a move herself, the bracers on her forearms tightened and jerked her arms towards the incoming blade.

It was a familiar sensation, being yanked around like a rag doll by a pair of red wrist guards, but this time Eltarri didn’t let herself be pulled around impassively. She let the enchanted leather pull the sword around into an intercepting position faster than she could ever have moved on her own, but she also took a quick step to the side and threw her weight behind the sudden jerk, turning the quick block into an almost faster but definitely more powerful swing.

[Corvus MacCallum]

Powerful swing perhaps, but it didn't match the Highlanders own raw power, as the blades smashed he watched to see if Eltarri would flinch, one downside of these clashings is the strain and pain caused by the sudden vibrations of the swords sinking through your muscles. With his single weaker arm pushing against her magically enhanced blow he found a nice way to test his wrists endurance, in all respects his arm was in a bad position to take a load and that was always an interesting challenge... to push his strength in order to exceed a persons normal tolerances even in a non-favourable position. Perhaps time to show a little flair?... it was a move he'd been thinking of trying out, a bit... odd but after seeing a guy perform one half of it, well he'd been intrigued.

With his right arm still pushing against Eltarris full strength he kicked a heel out behind him, left heel in fact and quickly spun, a spin was also forced on his sword, grinding its edge along Eltarris before its flat came in contact with the girls sword. He now had a target as his foot whipped round, a single heart-beat passed and his fingers released, then came the resounding pain, oh yes, this hurt indeed... mainly due to this being a new move, he hadn't quite hit it correctly, the side of his furry foot and shin smacking against the cold iron sword with a great deal of force. It was another pop-catch move to boot, the handling of his sword now swapping back to his left hand.

It taken a one hundred and eighty three degree spin, but he had pulled it off, though with his pupils enchantment kicking in he didn't expect her to go suitably flying though he did ease off on his pushing once that sword rested within his left paws grip.

"A' 'ight El, strike me dun, go on"

As his foot landed upon the ground it didn't look all that hurt, but godamn was it throbbing in his mind.

Urgh... not doing that again, nearly popped my hip spinning round that fast

[Chiroptera]

The first collision sent a jolt up her arms, but her bracers softened the blow enough that she didn’t get flung away from the impact. She still felt it, though, and her shoulders were starting to get sore. She gritted her teeth and was so focused on futilely straining her sword against the larger Slammer that she almost didn’t notice it when Corvus moved. She shifted forward half an inch as the pressure of his blade against hers eased, but a moment later she was knocked back as a third participant smashed against the swords.

Eltarri let herself get thrown a few feet back, not fighting the force of Corvus’ weird little spin-kick move. Where did he find those unnatural little combat tactics? It made her wonder apprehensively what else he had up his sleeve. She let the tip of her sword lower until it was pointing towards the ground, glaring at the Highlander as she tried to regain her breath. Her shoulders hurt and her fingers were stiff and she was tired even though the day had barely begun. She had the firm conviction that no amount of enthusiastic swinging would bring her to his level of strength or skill and was fairly certain that he knew it too, and yet he continued to insist that she do her pathetic best to “strike him dun.” It wasn’t very considerate.

“Why bother? We both know I’m not even going to get close.” She sounded petulant and she knew it, but all she really wanted to do was to sit down on the ground and pout. Instead she just used one hand to push her bangs out of her eyes as she tried to keep the scowl off her face. Why did all this sword-fighting stuff have to be so darn complicated?

[Corvus MacCallum]

A few moments and Cor started bouncing a tad on his knees, keeping the nicely stretched and prepped for combat.

"No' zactly a shocka' lass, ah've bin' swinging this sword fer a couple year'n now... bu' you put ma lessons into reality an' you'll soon find you've dun an' gotten a hell of a lot better"

Well originally she didn't know how to swing a sword so that makes sense, but now shes got the idea of weight and momentum, if she can keep that in mind when fighting shes golden

His tail was swinging a great deal behind him, it wasn't the fight that got him excited it was the fact he was training someone and while their own personality clashed with actually exerting effort, he was already able to see improvement. Slowly his blade lowered itself to the ground tip first, that single left hand still clutched firmly on the handle, he was never exactly comforted by his sword, nor did it feel essential that it be within reach... it was just his weapon and the weapon best fitting for his own furred hide.

"I'm noh expecting ye to beat me into the grund' lass, tha' no it at all, I'm holding back a fair deal but thas' just to do wit' 'ow bloody lethal these things are, ah've killed many an' done a lot of daring doos heh, plus I train"

With that single hand he hoisted the blade up slightly, showing that he was able to hold it with only the lightest of tremors now and again through his arm.

"I try to swing this sword a houndred times a day, more if I cin' find the time an' ah've been doing tha' daily, ah run miles with rocks strapped to me form an' do that fer miles, you ain't gonna beat me in a single days smacking lass so its nothing to get dis' artened over, just learn an' we'll see how good you cin get"

[Chiroptera]

Corvus’ words did nothing to comfort her. In fact, they just made the half-elf feel more tired and more disheartened than she already had. A hundred swings a day? She probably hadn't swung her sword that many times in all the time she'd had it! It would obviously take a heck of a lot of dedication to get to a point where swinging a sword was more harmful to her enemies than it was to herself, and Eltarri wasn’t at all convinced that she had the desire or the determination to ever reach that level.

You asked him to teach you. Did you think it’d be as easy to learn to kill as it was to learn to read?

Eltarri shook her head and sighed heavily, eying her sword with distaste. Some small part of her mind had thought that it would be easy, that people could get good at swordplay just by wanting really badly to be. That was pure foolishness, of course, but it was still depressing to think that she’d have to practically torture herself if she wanted to stay alive during combat situations. She’d never considered herself lazy, but the thought of having to work hard at swordsmanship every day was dismally intimidating.

She looked up again and saw the Highlander’s tail wagging, and she couldn’t help but crack a smile. The sight of his enthusiasm for something that she was already weary of made her wish that she had even half of his commitent. She had a reason for being out in the middle of nowhere, learning how to fight with a sword. She had a reason for doing her best to make sure she stayed alive. What kind of person would she be if she gave up now, after all that she'd already been through? Her mother was still stuck underground, but as long as she was out here searching for help, as long as she was doing her best to find a way to save her, there was still hope.

Resolve flooded the girl, filling her with a drive to succeed that she hadn't felt in a long time. Sure, she was terrible with a sword now, but even Corvus had to have been a clumsy puppy at one time. So what if her current skill rivaled the level that he had been when he was five or six? She was half Elven; as long as her bracers worked she'd have a long life and plenty of time to work up to his level.

“Fine then, Wolf-man,” she said teasingly, her eyes bright as she stepped forward to lightly smack the edge of her sword against his Slammer. “Let's just see how good I can get.”

[Corvus MacCallum]

"Ah'm lookin furwurd ta it lass"

Those lethal teeth flashed themselves as he smiled and returned the smack against her sword, followed by a second far harder to knock it out of the road before bringing his sword back towards him, his hands shifted their positions on the handle, rolling it through his palms and fingers, right hand coming off quickly to allow for the sword to spin downwards, his left gripping and then releasing to avoid snapping his wrist just in time for the right hand to reclutch his mighty weapon. He had a fight on him now and his next lesson was a nice display of raw effort, his blade hit the ground, his right arm forcing it further through the soil, carving into it, picking up speed as his left hand wrapped itself around the roughly decorated handle and bringing the force of all that feral strength, smashing the iron lump through the ground and back up in a circular motion. The second it tore free from the soil it rocketed towards Eltarris blade and caught sight of her body moving with its magical impulse towards defence... to make a simple strike against his pupil he had dug a thick trench through the earth and expended strength the girl would probably never have... but that enchantment on her could make this just as possible.

There was a heavy clatter as the two blades met, he could have pushed Eltarri right up off her feet but instead he eased off on his blow and simply forced against her blade without tearing the girl away. His hands had been shifted when the sword exited from the earth for a more comfortable position, now allowing him the next step in his movement, his grip loosened only a tad, keeping his thumb and palm pushing his sword up against the black iron blade that for now was his opponent. The edges grinded against each other and then came his trick, fingers flexed, palms stretching and he twirled his blade, all that weight by the larger blade hitting against the edge of Eltarris sword and knocking its direction a tad to the right, his blade came back and then forced back upon her, now the flat having to tackle his blow and shifting the blade a good distance more.

"People mock ta' Slammer, they dunnae call it a proper weapon... they beleive it cin be beaten wit' simple small rooms, tight 'alls or jus' a crowded forest... a Slammer 'as t'strength tae overcome this wit' nought but guts an' gumption, rip through the lan' if you must tae strike yer foe, smash the cage he tried tae close on ya an' then rip him a new one"

[Chiroptera]

Or just rip through the walls, since scenery demolition seems to be one of your fortes.

She was gritting her teeth too hard to say anything aloud. Eltarri wasn’t quite sure what all of his blade-shifting was supposed to accomplish, but she had the feeling that he wasn’t doing it just to be annoying. Not to say that it wasn’t annoying, but surely he had a better reason for all that fiddling than a desire to get on her nerves. Her whole body was tense, strained against the force of his relentless pressure on her sword. She was doing her best to keep her eyes on Corvus, trying not to be distracted by the freshly-dug ditch that tore through the center of the clearing. Show off.

The bracers were helping to fend him off, almost cutting off the circulation to her hands as they tightened proportionately to the effort required to keep back Corvus’ blade. Even with the leather bands doing their part to hold up against the onslaught, Eltarri was still flexing every muscle, pushing as hard as she could. And, of course, Corvus wasn’t budging.

There has to be a better way to do this. She was smaller than him, true, but her size didn’t have to be a handicap. She wasn’t faster than him either, but since she was on the defensive, she did at least have some element of surprise.

Eltarri shoved against him with the hilt of her sword, not trying to push Corvus away but hoping to get him to focus more on keeping their blades locked. A second later she overrode the bracers’ hold and relaxed her arms, simultaneously taking a quick step sideways. The sudden absence of resistance made her sword fall quickly under the larger Slammer’s weight, but Eltarri was now out of the swords' path. She was standing to the side of the Highlander, still facing him, and she took another step to the side and swung the sword around behind her as she spun, so that the black blade was making its way horizontally around her twisted torso and towards Corvus' back.

[Corvus MacCallum]

One thing a swordsman with any experiance knew by heart was to asses the situation during any moment of stagnant stalemate and most definately when there is any shift to the chronologically defined moment known as the present. At her shove the Highlanders mind was whirring through all the possible connotations of events and motions that opponent known as his pupil could perform, he was in the perfect situation to adapt. He had taught her earlier of momentum breaking, forgot to mention it can be provided so handily by the opposition, as such a foot attached to him shifted back, bringing his form further from her along with giving his sword new angles and paths to follow. That done on came the own swinging of his blade, he wasn't looking to kill the girl, as a learning experiance thats a touch severe, must get her sorted out with a nice buckler or shield, anything with more surface area than those bracers.

With his body relatively pulled back from the repositioning of his furry toed appendage the Highlander ripped his blade back towards using the arm furthest from the weapon, releasing his right hand from the handle and instead sliding his palm along the underside of the blades flat, as Eltarris Slammer swung around for him he tilted and turned the sword so its flat would guide the large black iron sword along its length. Grinding up the rough, variably stained surface Corvus then gave a sudden push with his hand pressed onto the underside of his sword and sent Eltarris weapon up into the air, quickly his blade turned around so the edge faced upwards where the smaller Slammer had been forced in the relative direction of, he lashed out and smashed against the jutting side of the handle, barely missing his pupils fingers as they clasped, white knuckled to the weapon.

"A mistake i' luck, bu' a fixed path is skill lass"

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri stumbled back and regained her footing to stand with feigned noncholance, disappointed that her attack had been so easily blocked and angry at herself for getting upset when she knew she wouldn’t have hit him anyway. She peeled her fingers off the leather of her sword and rested the point against the ground, leaning the hilt against her shoulder while she wiped her sweaty hands on her pants and glared.

“I don’t quite know what you mean by that,” she said with affected civility, “but there is no need whatsoever for you to go smacking at my hilt. You’ll scar the leather.”

There was no way she’d let her father’s sword get as worn and tattered as that repulsive slaver’s blade Corvus carried around. Her sword was by no means the archetype of attractive weaponry, but that certainly didn’t warrant the needless scuffing he seemed so keen on inflicting.

Or maybe she was just being petulant about not being able to hit him.

Eltarri lifted the hilt off her shoulder and coolly eyed the handle of her sword, taking exaggerated care to stroke the leather as she examined it to make sure it hadn’t been injured by the Highlander’s hit. She tossed him a pointed scowl every once in a while and telepathically swore at him in colorful language, vowing not to speak until he apologized profusely for assaulting her weapon.

[Corvus MacCallum]

"Right, ah'll splain i' plainly... ah forced yer sword along mine, meaning I knew exactly where it'd en' up going lass, den I struck at t'andle which, if dun proper would've sen' it rye from ya grip an' left ya defenceless... a skilled fighter cin lead 'is opponent abou' by the nose an' choose when tae smash em to the grund' "

Watching as she pawed at the runtier slammer Corvus allowed his eyes to drift elsewhere, roving through the dead or deathly bare trees, it hadn't gotten to him much during the night but this place did have a general stink of decay and it wasn't just the bears. He knew some magical presence had been the cause of those creatures that was just common sense, he'd killed too many things to ever beleive they can just get up again a few moments later... but the scale of decay was suprising, he had the impression that if he went back to find where that deer was prancing about there'd be a stark contrast between this dead, dry soil and the lush greens spreading further out. As for scents it didn't have much in the air that unsettled him but that was the unsettling part, all this lack of scents, it takes a moment of thought to realise theres far too little here than what there should be.

His brows furrowed, not at the thought but at the fact it had been uninterrupted, El hadn't spent this long silent except when asleep, his eye line regained the short form of his half elven pupil and pondered on what to do next. Guiding and leading was something he picked up from proper fighters... most bar brawls, the buckler and gauntlet came in real handy for those times when it came to guiding but she probably wouldn't do well with that... still its a thought for the future. The sun was still high and not much of a wind, had too much trouble struggling through the branches... bit hungry, which helped normally... yea okay might as well tell her.

She looks a bit tired...

Get on with it.

" 'Ave a sit dun lass an' we'll tear off tae tackle em in a bit"

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri’s head jerked up, her eyes instantly wide and her mouth open with surprise. Her stomach knotted as a shiver of fear and anticipation went down her spine. She was ready? Her immutable teacher had decided that she was finally ready?

“'Them?' The . .. bears?”

It was a stupid question. She didn’t need clarification for whom them were. And she’d broken her no-speaking-until-she-got-an-apology rule. Hilt forgotten, Eltarri swung her sword around her back and latched it back into its sling, striding quickly across the clearing before he could answer to lean against the tree that Corvus had used earlier as a launch pad, resting her back against it and crossing her ankles and arms in a show of relaxedness. It wasn’t a strictly comfortable pose, but she didn't want the Highlander to think that she was tired.

Her mind was scrambling, running rampantly over the recent sparring in an attempt to commit all the things Corvus had taught her to memory. But her thoughts kept drifting back instead to the memories she had of the bears, of their dripping limbs and bulging eyes and maggot-infested fur. Corvus’ sword-toting figure kept getting replaced with the massive form of an ore-dripping monster, and every attempt to revert the creature to her teacher failed in a miserable vision of herself getting swatted away by a giant Slammer that always looked more like a huge and furry paw.

Coward.

Heaving a sigh, Eltarri dropped the cool act and slid down the tree until her rear hit the ground, using one hand to tilt her sword so that it didn’t impede her descent. She let her head and shoulders fall back against the trunk behind her and closed her eyes.

[Corvus MacCallum]

Her immediate change in tone gave Corvus all the signals that she was afraid, was mostly a myth that animals could sniff out fear, mostly they just picked up on the cold sweat, faster heart-beat if sensitive enough and of course the change of size in the pupils, all things the Wolf-man had studied from simply growing up as a Highlander. He certainly didn't feel it was a baseless fear, but it wasn't one he shared, in that monster slaying mind the bears had been picked apart with key features strewn through his memory, comparing, sorting and solving, she wasn't at a stage where she could fight a human opponent, but these bears were within her capability. A plop, a scuffle, he watched it all as his aspiring student tried to sort out her emotional state, not the greatest at helping the teacher did approach, the information rolling through his mind currently had to be shared or else he'd be jeopardizing the halflings chances.

"No' as bi' a' job as yer 'rinkin lass, power an' speed 'day've got but they're still beasts an' beasts ain't a'ways so crafty, strikin' behin' 'em isnae on t'cards they'll turn an' face before lashin', quick yea bu' still time tae hack... thas' point two luv, moving an' flailin' s'only good if they've go' limbs an' our Slammers be designed fer solvin' tha', dunnae worry wouldnae go leavin' yer side this early anyway, so nae need fer perfection nae pressure"

Saying 'luv' had caught him out a tad, his dad often spouted that off to pretty much every woman he met, not a lustful bloke but it certainly gained him sour looks from his mate... a small smirk spread on Cors face as he got that beautiful image of a seven foot tall Highlander male in his prime being cowed down by the glare of a mostly human female.

Ma could be a ra' scary one when riled

His hands had decided to busy themselves while he spoke and reminisced, claws of the right trailing along the shape of that gem embedded in his left glove, lately he'd noticed it giving off some faint glow when around magical power which did make the Highlander curious, he'd been told whatever enchantment was on this tihng lay dormant or defunct, so what was the cause of the ambience...

[Chiroptera]

She heard Corvus approaching and didn’t open her eyes to acknowledge his proximity until he started talking, and then she just glared at him petulantly as he once again blithely dismissed her fear. Oh yes, they were certainly just bears when one could fight a thirty-foot long dragon, eat its liver while it was still blowing fire, and then tote its head around as a trophy! And even if he was going to be there the whole time, that didn’t mean that a zombie bear-slaying was going to be like a stroll through a grassy meadow anyway. And what on earth was “tooloov?”

She went back over the phrase more slowly and realized her mistake, then glared at the Highlander with a searing stare, trying to see if he was making fun of her. The back of her neck was warmer than she wanted it to be, but she was relieved to see that he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at his left hand, fiddling with the green stone on he glove thoughtfully.

Eltarri’s nose wrinkled and she looked away. It was probably the Highlander version of jewelry, the way humans wore their wedding rings and orcs their iron manacles. He was probably reminiscing about a beautiful she-Corvus that he was looking forward to returning to after he was done adventuring, wishing he was away from the awkward and incompetent half-elf who was keeping him from her. That girl could probably kill a thousand monster bears with the daggers she carried that were the size of regular human long swords. She probably had flowing blonde hair and a body like a goddess and a name that meant heaven and . . .

“Whatever you say, Corvus,” Eltarri said loudly to interrupt her futile train of thought. She pulled her bangs off her face and tucked them behind her ears, keeping her eyes on the trees in front of her so that she wouldn’t make eye contact and blush. “But you know you're depending a lot here on the assumption that I won’t do something ridiculously stupid and get myself killed.”

[Corvus MacCallum]

His pokings and ponderings upon the pristine palm placed jewel were quite sharply interrupted by Eltarri finally speaking up at a heightened volume, not a muscle in his frame jerked, juddered or jostled but he did raise those forest green eyes slightly to trace from out-stretched hand, along the dead and dried earth to finish up upon the suprisingly defensive pupil his smirk allowing a breif bit of air to escape and draw a further supply in through those overworking nostrils.

"Aye tha' I am..."

The halfling was most certainly in need of a confidence boost and while slaughtering zombie bears was not the common way such psychological boons were played out but there was always the pre-massacre banter. There was that dribbling of nostalgia inflicting itself upon his mind, something about the girl kept giving him thoughts of earlier days but not in longing, more in the form of a revival... by all accounts he was the last surviving member of the Wolf Brothers...

I did snicker quite a bit on discovering they had that name long before I joined... it was situation dependant rather than a good punch-line

... This girl wouldn't be a candidate yet simply due to her apparent inexperiance dealing with the properly fanged nasties that stamped along this worlds soil, no it would probably take a few ventures by her side before Eltarri would be summing up her chances against the more savage of opponents without self-derision rising forth and planting its dagger firm into her spine. Was amazing how long an adrenaline fuelled mind could work, to Eltarri he hadn't even paused his words, felt good to exercise the old grey matter... a lot of warriors forget the brain is also a muscle.

"... an' ah've really ha' no need tae think you would lass, tha' tongues too sharp tae be weilded by a' idiot, plus you only fight wit' experiance, no' wit' a death wish, ah trust ya lass"

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri pondered his words for a minute, absently chewing on the inside of her cheek. Being called a not-idiot wasn’t exactly a compliment, but he said he trusted her. Trusted her not to kill herself? That was comforting.

“All right, then,” she said, slapping her hands together and pushing herself off the ground. “Enough with the chatter. Actions speak louder than words, right?”

She bared her teeth at him in a grin that looked more like a snarl and dusted off the back of her pants before setting off across the clearing at a jaunty walk, not looking behind her to see if the Highlander was following. She got about five feet away before she realized that she actually didn’t have any idea of which way she was supposed to be going. The forest looked all the same in every direction to her. Rather than admit the mistake, she stopped walking and fiddled with her harness for a second before turning back to Corvus, feigning impatience with a tilted head and her hands on her hips.

“Are you still coming?”

[Corvus MacCallum]

"Sorta bu' it' more of a going, tha' way lass"

A clawed hand was pointing in a rather northerly direction, it was being quickly followed by a southerly gale and Corvus intended to join it... Eltarri might not but he figured it was a sure enough bet the girl would have a quick bit of hurried effort and rejoin his side. With each dried earth connecting foot-fall the Highlander endured the pre-battle preparations... buckler was secure, harness wasn't slipping... could see past his hair and his buttocks weren't on display, that was it pretty much done for now. He'd seen many so called slayers and heroes strut their way into the jaws of quite-often-death and never felt that kind of machismo swagger really suited any warrior with a degree of intelligence, still it wasn't a bad thing, it did alert any experianced on-lookers...

Be wary, for bull-shit strides this land!... Fire in his belly, iron in his balls and his brain... being drained by his iron balls normally... what a gaggle of wankers

A few of those gleaming teeth were exposed as his lip curled into a smirk, snickering quietly to himself as he started picturing those very examples of solo britch-gymnastics. His mind fractured itself to keep aware of the slowly passing surroundings, with such a decay in the area not to mention the lack of many types of flora, fauna and well whatever isn't encapsulated in those two terms, he had little difficulty in deciphering the general location the bears dwelled in. It suprised him just how close the cave was, how was he aware of it being a cave?

Bloody hell

They had only been walking for a short time and he could see the cragged opening of a naturally formed cavernous hidey hole forming between the withered trunks of dead trees he had been forced to dodge with a few light steps. Wether Eltarri was beside of far behind his buckler clad right arm fired out to his side, a simple gesture that she'd understand as 'stop'... with any luck, she might also think it means 'go right' or 'hi I know you're there', the last one might not be so bad, she could stop to scoff.

The reason for this gesture was at the entrance of the cave, two of the bears slumped, one gnawing on the exposed rib-cage of the other, each about the same size of the two that had been previously slaughtered. Exactly why they waited there he didn't know, maybe they had a bit more brain matter left, leaving them to act like bears should despite the many peices of skin, muscle and such missing.

[Chiroptera]

She didn’t have to endure any ridicule for her lack of directional sense because Corvus set off without waiting for her to follow, in a different direction from the one in which she’d been heading. She sauntered after him with her head held high and her thumbs tucked into her belt loops, doing her best to look as blasé as he did. It wasn’t all that hard to look unaffected, so long as she kept her mind off their destination. She wondered how the Highlander even knew where they were going, but she got her answer when a gust of wind blew a sickeningly familiar smell into her face that almost made her lose her cool.

How close were these bears? She’d assumed . . . inexplicably . . . that the bears that had attacked them the night before had been stragglers, maybe the adventurous wanderers of the pack who’d just gotten lost and stumbled upon the anomaly of a half-elf and a half-wolf in the middle of the forest. But if their rank scent of decay was already strong enough to make her throat close and they were still in the forest . . . She walked faster to close some of the distance that separated her from Corvus’ back and the big, ugly, deadly sword that hung on it. She didn’t know much about carnivores, but she did know that when hunting they tended to go after the weakest one of the herd, the one who was stupid enough to lag behind, and she was determined to make sure that that wasn't her.

Eltarri’s head swiveled back and forth as she walked, scanning the surrounding foliage to make sure that there weren’t monsters hiding behind in the brush. She stopped when her neck started hurting and instead kept her eyes on the uncut path in front of her feet, her line of vision limited to the regular appearances of her booted toes and the occasional swish of Corvus’ tail. Watching dirt pass beneath her feet was distracting enough to leave her mind pleasantly blank, and the walk was almost enjoyable as the half-elf focused on absolutely nothing and firmly repressed any attempt that her brain made to bring up a subject she didn’t want to dwell on.

She was so caught up in her meditative state that she almost walked into Corvus when he suddenly stopped. He didn't turn to explain. The sound of his arm moving brought her attention up, but the extended arm didn’t give her an idea of what it was that had stopped him. Curiosity made her antsy, but standing on her tiptoes didn't give her the height she needed to peer over his shoulder, and she certainly couldn’t see through him.

With a small huff, Eltarri stepped sideways and ducked around the Highlander’s left side to see what was ahead. She stopped breathing with a tiny gasp at the brutes that loafed in the forbidding entrance of a cave just a stone's throw away. They were huge and smelly, munching intimately on each other in what seemed to almost be a gruesomely macabre make-out session.

Eltarri lifted a hand to cover her nose and mouth as if that would be enough to prevent their smell from permeating every breath that went into her lungs. Her stomach clenched with nausea and fear, and she turned a questioning look onto the Highlander beside her, wishing she had the nerve to make some kind of clever comment to alleviate her own anxiety. Now that they were looking at the monsters again . . .

Are you sure you still want to do this?

[Corvus MacCallum]

"Git ta' straggla'"

Was quietly expressed and just those three words passed by, not even bothering with extraneous noises, others did rise up as he then spent special effort crunching his feet into the ground, but he didn't speak up again. When hunting animals would go after the stragglers or visibly the weakest, when defending territory priorities were intelligently switched and was looking forward to having Eltarri display she wasn't too low on the rung in the quartet. The Gnawer and the Gwanee both raised their heads to the noisy trespasser, Corvus lifting his gloved hand upwards and then clutching tight hold of his vast blade, for humans this was a simple act of aggression but they didn't quite twig onto that... however Corvus wasn't the type to act purely for the human audience, his lips curled slightly and out from his throat launched a sharpened bark of forced hate. They were zombie bears that ate cows and really shouldn't be about, but they weren't quite fitting to be properly hated, just not liked... mildly detested and relatively rued.

Despite their shaking and shambling forms the bears did get onto all sevens, the one with its exposed rib-cage had probably lost a hind-leg to earlier chewings by its pal. They were padding forward while Corvus himself was shifting side-ways, not flinching or removing his eyes from the undead beasts as his head snapped twigs and embedded his hair with a few fragments of dead wood, eye contact was an important part of these exchanges and while he certainly wouldn't be winning any psychological battles on festering Ursa Mediums he didn't want them rushing until some degree of distance had been made between his bushy tailed self and the long earred halfing he'd been bantering with. Paw after paw after, well it was thin air for the Ribbers particular gait but they kept advancing, turning to keep their eyes locked on Corvus, ignoring the skinny waif dressed in dead cow skin, guess they had enough intelligence to know that muscle meant good meat.

The Highlanders mind was racing on the possible options available to him for instating this moment of conflict, or to put it in his preferred words...

Now, how to kick off this ruckus...

... he was trying to pluck images from his mind on seeing animals and people cut apart, what was inside and in what arrangement, where could his blade meet least resistence and still deliver a fatal blow... why should he care, anything trying to stop him would get broken apart or hacked to bits. The four-legged bear who for this fight would be denoted as Cecille, with the exposed rib-cage bear labelled as Nevil, raised his still solid throat into activity, growling loudly at the Slammer toting Wolf-man.

"Dunnae ya try tha' wit' me fucko"

His face was now a proper growling display of aggression, staring down at Cecille then upwards as the bear launched itself up onto its hind-paws attempting intimidation, it reared back slightly and then launched its head forward in an attempt to roar. At this point Corvus stopped paying exact attention to non-lethal actions and put some focus into his actions, the chains slid free of his Slammer leaving it unfettered in his grip, swinging it in from the side, his right hand clutching hold and then launching both up smashed his blade through the Bears pelvis, up diagonally through the body, cleaving right through most of the rotted intestines. It kept going up, Corvus twisting his wrists, forcing the cut steeper and then smashing through the spinal column, upwards further and then whacking against the rib-cage and shoulder blade, he could feel that several of the ribs had come apart and let him acess, if he tried to pull back it would be a bad idea, so instead he stepped forward as the bear tried to strike at him, just too far away. Closing the distance slightly with his step Corvus quickly retightened his grip, let the blade fall before smashing upwards again, forcing his blade off to the distant side of where it rested now, in a flash of gore he had ripped the Bears right shoulder, arm, neck, head and quite a lot of interior guff right off from the carved body.

Landing quite a distance Corvus had a moment to glance at the wailing bear as it attempted to claw back to its own falling carcass before having its undeath forced away by the Slammers vast edge smashing right into its skull and then three feet into the dead soil. Unarmed and a tad splattered the Highlander now watched for his pupils attack and the death of another bear.

[Chiroptera]

The irony of his murmured command wasn’t lost on Eltarri, but her attention obediently snapped to the bear that wasn’t leading the charge as Corvus drew the other away. The straggler. She was the one who more aptly warranted that title. Straggler vs. straggler. Despite the awkward limping gait of the approaching monster, she had no doubt that the match was even and the realization sent a bolt of panic shot through her chest. She hadn’t trained enough. Why would Corvus abandon her now? She was going to get mauled to death by a crippled bear! And he had left her the three-legged one, so if she died it would be doubly embarrassing!

She forced herself to reach over her shoulder and grab the hilt of her sword. The spring of her clasp squeaked as she pulled it with her free hand and swung her black sword out in front of her, making sure that the sharp side was pointed at the approaching menace.

The undead bear apparently wasn’t very impressed by the size of her weapon. It let out a low growl and hobbled aggressively forward, crossing the ground beneath it with much more speed than Eltarri would have guessed it could manage. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the hilt of her sword, but her hands shook as the monster drew nearer until a sudden thought made her reconsider her terror.

Why was she so scared? She’d been sparring all morning with Corvus, who was probably just as fierce—if not just as hairy—as the creature coming towards her now. And this one didn't think it was funny to make her scream! If she’d managed not to get killed when fighting against a trained killer and had come away from the encounter with a smidgen of the knowledge he possessed, how could she not be ready to take on this reanimated three-legged carpet with chipped claws and terrible breath?

Eltarri bent her knees and drew a deep breath, settling her feet into the dirt beneath her to get a firm foothold as the bear lunged at her. It obviously didn’t have the balance necessary to stand up for a swing, but it launched itself off its one hind leg to throw its weight behind a heavy swipe that led the way towards the half-elf's face.

It almost felt to Eltarri as though everything was moving in slow motion. She saw each part of the bear’s attack, her eyes fixing on the large paw as it arced towards her. Her bracers tightened and her arms moved of their own accord, twisting to interpose the vertical blade of her sword between the incoming claws and her face. Eltarri let the bracers move her arms, but her mind jumped ahead to what she would have to do after the block, to the offensive move that could follow to keep it from swinging agian. She twisted the sword in her hands as the furry limb came so that the bear’s wide paw hit the sharp of the blade, the black metal sinking into decayed flesh until it struck the bone of its wrist. As soon as the blade met resistance she launched herself forward, kicking dirt out behind her as she shifted her grip on the sword, lifting the hilt until it was horizontal and shoving forward so that her motion sent the lower half of the blade towards the bear’s approaching body.

With the upper edge of the sword still stuck on the bear’s paw, the pressure on the lower half made it swivel around the bone in a clean arch that ended in the side of the bear’s neck on the opposite side of its swinging arm, the furry throat inches from the hilt, and Eltarri’s momentum kept the sword digging until it was almost halfway through the bear’s neck and stuck on the bone of its spine.

The bear was already off the ground, however, and was irreversibly committed to its jump despite the blood gushing out over its matted fur. It’s body continued forward and slammed into Eltarri, jolting the sword out of her hands and shoving her backwards. She tumbled, her hip scraping against the trunk of a tree on her right before she hit the ground. The bear was still falling her way, but the hilt of her sword - still wedged in its throat - caught against the tree that she had grazed on her way down. The sword's sudden stop forced the blade the rest of the way through the neck and hit the ground behind it, sending the monster's head flying off its shoulders, but everything below the gaping neck kept coming and landed on top of her with a painfully loud thud.