Out in the yard, Andy leapt as Morwen attacked the ground beneath him with the training staff, the red-rope-wrapped end digging into the dirt before Morwen pulled it back up to eye-level.
He dodged another swing, then another. He was getting good at this. The moves were coming more and more gracefully, and he had little trouble keeping track of the staff’s location in space around him.
The exercise wasn’t about dodging per se. Morwen’s moves weren’t particularly fast. The intent, rather, was to get him in the habit of moving in all three dimensions, and to be aware of the things happening around him.
“All right,” Morwen said, lowering her staff. “I think you’re ready for sparring.”
Sparring? Would they be hitting each other with their fists? Andy was growing more confident in his abilities, but he knew Morwen, a veteran Fighter, would be able to take him down quickly in a real fight, and he didn’t want his jaw broken… maybe they’d use gloves…
“How does it work?” Andy said.
“The rules are simple,” said Morwen. “There are five points on the body that count: the sternum, each shoulder, the head, and the middle of the back between the shoulder blades. For low-level sparring, we use open-hand technique, meaning you strike with your palm… in other words, you slap. You should not aim to do anything more than make contact with your opponent's body in any one of the five areas.”
“Makes sense,” Andy said. “How do you determine a winner?”
“First to three points,” said Morwen.
“And I have to beat you to rank up in [combat]?”
“No,” Morwen said. “Not exactly. Your real sparring match will be tomorrow. I have a friend coming to visit specifically for this purpose. He runs a private fighting gym not far from here. Today is just practice, so you get used to the rules.”
Andy nodded.
“Ready? Begin.”
Morwen raised her hands level with her face, crouching down as she approached Andy.
Andy found his athletic stance and kept his hands stretched out in front of him.
“Guard up,” Morwen said, shaking her hands to emphasize her position.
Andy pulled his hands in, guarding his face.
Morwen lunged forward and swung an open hand at Andy’s left shoulder.
Andy dropped to the ground, crouched on one knee as her hand whizzed over his head.
Just like the staff training.
He popped up and found an opening. Morwen was still off-center from her attack, leaving her shoulder undefended. Andy lunged forward, thrusting his palm at the vulnerable point.
He struck it.
“Very good!” Morwen said. “I admit, you were faster than I anticipated. I underestimated you, which is a very unwise thing for a Fighter to do… One point for you.”
Andy grinned, but quickly dropped back into his athletic stance, wearing a blank face once again.
Don’t get cocky.
Morwen lunged toward him, this time pushing her palm straight forward into his chest.
Andy tried to dodge to the side, but she had simply been too quick.
Her palm struck his chest and she immediately hopped backward, bringing her hands back up into defensive posture. “And that’s one for me.”
Andy tried to get a read on her. Morwen’s feet were constantly moving, constantly shuffling even though she was going nowhere. He had the sense, though, that she was ready to move in any direction at any time. She was never still.
Andy tried imitating her, bouncing gently on his toes while maintaining his athletic stance and defensive posture.
“Nice technique,” Morwen said. “That will keep you mobile.”
They circled one another, searching for holes in each other’s defenses.
Morwen moved her elbow outward slightly as she bounced.
Andy couldn’t tell if it was a mistake on her part, or if she was goading him to attack. He decided to risk it.
He rushed forward, pushing his palm toward her chest, only for her to dodge to the side. Without a solid point of contact for his blow, he stumbled forward, losing his footing. He felt her hand make contact with the middle of his back as he passed her.
“Two for me,” she said.
“That was a trick, wasn’t it?” Andy said as he turned to face her, resuming his defensive posture.
She just smiled and continued bouncing on her toes. Then she made another attack, this time, an open-palm slap to Andy’s head.
Andy intercepted it, blocking outward with his left arm and leaving Morwen’s core vulnerable to attack.
He capitalized on it, striking her sternum with his right palm.
“Well done!” she said as she retreated backward. “Two to two!”
Andy smiled. They hadn’t really covered blocking or counterattacks at all, but it had come naturally to him in the moment.
He knew that Morwen was taking it easy on him, restraining her own power and skill somewhat, but he could also tell that she aimed to make it challenging. And so far she seemed happy with his performance.
“Final point,” Morwen said as she began shuffling around him.
Andy kept his shoulders facing her, spinning slowly clockwise.
Suddenly, she rolled on the ground, a maneuver Andy hadn’t expected. Before Andy could turn around, she was behind him. He could hear her tunic move as she struck… on his right side.
Without turning around, Andy instinctively dodged to the left. Morwen’s hand barely missed his right shoulder.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Excellent!” she said as he turned again to face her.
Andy couldn’t believe it. The training he had received was already paying dividends. He smiled widely… he couldn’t help himself. He relaxed his shoulder for a moment, proud of himself. “Thank-”
Morwen slapped him square in the face. “That’s game!”
“Damn!” Andy said as he brought his hand to his stinging red cheek. In his moment of triumph, he had let his guard down.
“I trust you know what you did wrong there at the end?” Morwen said.
“Yes,” said Andy.
“Good. Learn from it,” she said, stretching her arms and back. She paced around for a moment, heading toward the veranda steps. “Really good performance.”
“Thank you,” Andy said. Despite his blunder at the end, he was proud of all he had learned and consolidated, and he was astonished at how well he was able to hold himself in a fight. “I appreciate your instruction.”
Morwen sat on the front step, wiping the sweat from her brow with a cloth. “Tomorrow is the real test,” she said.
“Yes,” said Andy, “you mentioned a guy from a gym? I’m sparring with him?”
“That would be Gerran. A great Fighter, and a friend of the Order. You’ll be sparring with his student, another trainee who’s also looking for their first [combat] rank.”
“Am I ready?” Andy asked.
“I think you are,” Morwen said. “Nothing is guaranteed, though. Gerran’s student probably has more formal training than you, and probably has more tricks than you do. But you have… well, you have a natural talent.”
Andy smiled slightly, but didn’t allow himself to enjoy the compliment fully. He had just let his guard down out of pride, and it had cost him a sparring match.
“Anything else I can do to prepare?” Andy said.
“Probably not between now and tomorrow,” said Morwen. “At least not in terms of training and tactics. But I do recommend keeping your mind clear, eating enough but not too much, and getting a good night’s sleep.”
Andy nodded. She sounded like a school nurse, but he knew she was right.
“And my opponent, they'll be at the same level as me in [combat]?”
“Yes,” said Morwen. “At least in terms of their System stats.”
“But you said they may have been training for longer?”
“Quite possibly. At least that’s what we should assume,” Morwen said. “It’s true that you are progressing in new skills quite quickly, but the drawback is that you have less time to cement good habits: habits of physical posture, technique, proper reaction in the midst of a fight. You can have all the System skills, but habit and memory are just as important, and that requires long periods of repetition.”
“I see,” Andy said. “Then do I even stand a chance tomorrow?”
“Of course you do,” Morwen said, “or I wouldn’t allow it to happen.”
Andy nodded silently, almost embarrassed that he had shown a lack of trust in his teacher. He wanted to ask what would happen if he lost. Would there be a penalty? Would he have to train longer before he could spar again? But he remained silent.
Despite her quick reaction to his words, Morwen didn’t seem offended. She just smiled gently as she rose to her feet. “Keep the wood chopped and the stew simmering.”
***
Later that day, in the den, Andy took a break, leaning back in the comfortable armchair, his feet propped up on an ottoman. He didn’t read, he didn’t contemplate his progress, he didn’t explore any of the weapons or artifacts mounted on the wall. He just rested, letting his mind go blank as he watched the insides of his eyelids.
Two birds chirped madly just outside the den window, flapping wildly. Perhaps a territorial dispute.
He had been pushing himself with his training, and it was paying off in real time. The process was unlike anything Andy had experienced before. In his previous life, it had always been promised that hard work would pay off sometime in the future, but it never quite seemed to. His dedication to art hadn’t guaranteed him an art career. His job hadn’t guaranteed him enough money to save. He had felt like he was on a hamster wheel, running furiously and getting nowhere.
This place was different.
He wondered… if his mother was here, in the game, what kind of skill ranks and class ranks had she acquired, and what would she do with it? Maybe one day he’d find out…
Maybe.
Andy rose to his feet and stretched. He grabbed a spoon from the cabinets by the pantry and approached the simmering pot of stew.
He dipped the spoon in and caught a chunk of beef and potato, as well as some onion and herbs floating in the broth.
He took a sip.
The mouthfeel was good, obviously. The fatty beef gave the broth immense flavor. The texture of the meat was hearty yet tender. But the whole thing lacked seasoning. It was bland except for the herbal aroma coming from some parsley.
And approached the pantry and found some salt, pepper, and a long, wooden spoon, bringing it all back to the fireplace. He added a generous pour of salt to the large cauldron and stirred gently.
After a few minutes, he poured several tablespoons of ground black pepper into the stew, stirring again.
Andy brought another bit of soup up to his mouth, sipping it.
Now, that’s much better.
The heartiness of the beef and the sweetness of the onions, the starchy potatoes and the rich bone broth, they all came together in a depth of flavor now, thanks to the salt and pepper.
Salt makes bad food good. Salt makes good food better.
Andy prepared a bowl for himself, sitting in an armchair as he ate. He savored the soup now. It was hearty, nutritious, and delicious. And it didn’t last long; he was hungry from sparring. He sipped the remaining broth and placed it on a side table, placing his spoon in it.
He picked the book back up, 100 Weapons. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to find. He had already skimmed the volume the day before and read part of the appendix.
He flipped through pages and pages, pausing over schematic diagrams of different weapons and techniques. He paused over the “Greatsword” entry, glancing up at the massive blade hanging on the den wall, the one he had pointed out to Morwen on his first day here.
Greatsword: The greatsword is a fearsome weapon. With a double-edged blade and a long hilt, it typically requires two hands to wield. Greatsword blades can be wide or narrow. Wider blades can often be used defensively to block blows, projectiles, or in some cases spell attacks.
Andy examined the blade on the wall. It was quite wide, nearly twelve inches.
It is recommended that Fighters who wish to wield the greatsword focus on [athletics], as the weapon requires great strength. The hilt of the weapon is much longer than that of other blades, to provide more opportunity for leverage.
The book depicted a figure holding the sword upright, with one hand near the crossguard and another near the bottom of the hilt. Another diagram below depicted a figure holding the sword with one hand out to the side, gripping the weapon beneath the crossguard and allowing the rest of the hilt to press against the bottom of the forearm and elbow, stabilizing the massive blade.
It looks difficult to manage, he thought. But…
Something about the thought of wielding a greatsword excited the kiddish side of him. It was just so… magnificent.
Andy flipped through a few more pages: warhammers, battle axes, thrown weapons…
Then, something fell out of the book onto his lap.
It was a small, aged card that bore the insignia of the Order of Behemoth, a mammoth skull with four tusks, stamped in black ink. Under the insignia, there was several lines of careful handwriting:
The Initiate’s Oath
I pledge my commitment to the mission of the Order of the Behemoth: to defend the defenseless.
I pledge to keep harmony with the Order to the best of my ability.
I pledge to aid, and not hinder, any operation carried out by the Order in accordance with its mission.
I pledge to honor the dignity of every person, to do everything in my power to curb tyranny, and to guard the common good with all of my strength.
Andy smiled. The oath was beautiful, idealistic… inspiring. It filled him with pride and courage.
He didn’t know much about this new world, but based on what he had heard of Cresthaven’s history, its politics, and the Order of the Behemoth, he was pretty sure Morwen, Pliny, and the others were on the right side of things.
Andy wanted to remain cautious. He knew he shouldn’t rush into an affiliation too quickly, not without truly understanding the Order and its place in the wider community. He knew there was more than one way to tell history, and he had only heard one take.
But he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a part of him that wanted to join the Order immediately.