Ysalwen Surana, Warden-Commander of Ferelden (
freedom_is_grey) wrote2018-04-02 09:22 pm
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Sword practice!
Ysalwen makes her way out to a cleared patch of hard-packed dirt near the firing range, carrying two wooden practice blades and a bunch of padding.
Better safe than sorry for the early stages of sparring. (She remembers her own bruises very, very well).
Liranan is trotting next to her, loaded down with what might be two picnic baskets and several bottles of water. Healing poultices may be involved, too. Just in case. Then she settles herself against a nearby boulder, waiting for Hera.
Better safe than sorry for the early stages of sparring. (She remembers her own bruises very, very well).
Liranan is trotting next to her, loaded down with what might be two picnic baskets and several bottles of water. Healing poultices may be involved, too. Just in case. Then she settles herself against a nearby boulder, waiting for Hera.
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"I hope you weren't waiting long."
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Ysalwen smiles, quick and bright.
"No, I definitely wasn't. I just thought I'd get out here early to stake out a space. Well, early being relative, but I'm used to training grounds that tend to get taken up sooner rather than later."
She is when she's in camp, at least, or in a population center the size of this tavern. Some villages are much smaller.
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These days, any 'training area' for her crew tends to be made up on the fly. (And sometimes 'on the fly' is very literal.)
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"Though this place is even more chaotic than most of the rest I'm familiar with. Everyone has their different weapons, so -- "
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Hera glances at the line of targets in the shooting range. "But my world's a little like that, too."
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"I wonder sometimes if my world is like that, too, only we can't get out far enough to see it."
Hmm.
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Maybe they could even be from the same one - though with Ysalwen's brand of magic, that seems unlikely.
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"Do you think it even has boundaries? The universe, I mean. Milliways obviously does."
She moves, then, to take the picnic baskets and water off of Liranan, setting them in the shade of the boulder.
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"There are plenty of stories of explorers that go out beyond Wild Space and never return, but there can be plenty of reasons for that."
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Her tone suggests she doubts it.
Liranan barks, stubby tail wagging as he brings over the wooden practice swords, trying to be careful of his drool.
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Which seems more likely.
With the baskets set aside, Hera returns to Liranan to take one of the practice swords, lifting it carefully to again grow used to its weight in her hand.
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Ysa knows how hot stars get, at the very least.
She takes her own blade from Liranan, testing the weight of it and adjusting her grip. She smiles at Hera, quickly.
"It always takes me a minute. The balance on this isn't like Spellweaver at all, or like my staff. Or, you know, a dagger, so."
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She wonders, briefly, if a lightsaber feels anything like this.
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"Have you had much time to practice the basic stances and strikes recently?"
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"Things have gotten a little busier in my world."
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"It does have a way of happening, in our lines of work. I hope it's not the terrible kind of busy."
She narrows her eyes a bit, studying Hera's form. Then --
"If I say 'loosen your wrist', is that something that makes sense to you as an instruction, or . . . ?"
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Or at least, she knows what it's always meant to her. Hera turns her hand, shifting the weight of wooden blade so that it isn't held so tightly in her wrist. It's not so different from how she'd put her hands around a ship's controls.
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Ysalwen raises her own blade, stretching it out to tap it lightly against Hera's. The first step is to make sure the other woman keeps her grip.
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"It's something new," she says. "The same way with the weight of it."
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Anyway.
"Right. So we'll do these exercises in one quarter time, I think, at first? It's how Cullen started me out, anyway."
For a given value of start, which was mostly after a lot of running around the lake with a backpack full of rocks and endless drilling of the same five movements for muscle memory. As this is not a technique designed to save Hera's life, Ysalwen chooses to start with something more interesting.
"If you begin with a basic strike, I'll block, and then we'll switch."
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Hera considers for a moment, again feeling out the weight of the sword and trying to keep any tightness out of her stance and her wrists, before she lifts the sword into a downward strike, albeit anticipating Ysalwen's block.
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She doesn't spread her hands, just meets Hera's strike with her own blade. The movement is solid rather than sharp, and the follow-through is very deliberate, meant to give space in front of them for the next set of strike-and-block.
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"Do you need to -"
How do you ask this? "- have magic, to make something like that?"
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Her brow is a little furrowed, then she smooths it out and raises her eyebrows in surprise.
"No, of course not. It's just herbalism, every village has at least a few people educated in . . . "
She pauses, considering Hera carefully.
"Is that something you'd like to learn, too?"
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"I wouldn't say no to more medical supplies."
Especially ones she could easily replace without spending too many credits.
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Ysalwen taps Hera's blade with her own, then reverses her own movement and shifts her stance again.
"If you want something more complicated -- a stamina draught, protection from fire, something that will mend very great wounds -- those are a lot more difficult, perhaps unsurprisingly. But if you do need those things . . . I'm always glad to help."
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"But - well, we can't always afford what we might need."
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"It's lucky for both of us that foraging in the woods here is free. Not that it's all that expensive at home, in that regard, but -- I really do prefer to take what won't be missed."
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"The Empire likes to control as many of the sources of medical supplies as possible," she says. "Which can make getting a hold of them... difficult, sometimes."
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"Otherwise I'm sure the Chantry would have only let them survive on holy ground."
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"Sometimes we're lucky, and things turn out like that."
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"The rest of the time, it takes a lot of work."
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"It's usually easier to come by blasters and ammo packs."
On some worlds even a clean drink of water could be pricier than charging up your weapon.
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"But when only the wealthy and powerful can have weapons . . . "
She makes a face, lip curling and nose wrinkling --
"Or anything, really . . . that's when the trouble starts."
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"But I also can't eat my blaster."
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"I promise I will not get sidetracked into considering what might need to be done in order for that to be viable."
Though it's an interesting puzzle . . . no.
Ysa's smile is quick and crooked, and perhaps a little sad.
"It was like that in the alienage, when I was young. The outside world had the farms and the markets and the money . . . you can't eat mud."
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Hera also hesitates a moment, not immediately moving to strike again. She doesn't return the smile, but eventually answers -
"I know."
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"A lot of people don't, here and elsewhere. I'm not saying that's a bad thing at all, but . . . "
It's different.
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"It's not easy to forget," she answers, quietly.
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"It feels worse, in a way, that we're not the only ones."
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"No. I wish it were - rarer."
In some ways, it feels like it's getting worse. And fewer people seem to know.
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It's not a promise, ones like this are impossible to make. But there is hope in it, and determination.
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And then asks, after a few more swings, "Am I ready to move a little faster?"
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But her next swing comes in a little faster.
"Let's try half speed, see what you make of it."
There's still a solid rhythm to it all, and a pattern to the strikes, so half-speed is infinitely achievable. Three-quarters they'll save for next time, or the time after that.
And eventually it's time to break into the picnic baskets, food separated out into one for the people who eat cooked food -- bitter dishes mixed in with spicier ones, so everyone gets to eat something enjoyable -- and one that contains most of a deer flank for Liranan. Keeping watch is hungry work!