Sword practice!

[freedom_is_grey]

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.

Comments

[freedom_is_grey]

"At least that end would be quick."

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."

[for_everyone]

"Or a blaster."

She wonders, briefly, if a lightsaber feels anything like this.

[freedom_is_grey]

"Definitely not a blaster," Ysalwen agrees wholeheartedly, setting her feet in the dirt and lifting the wooden practice blade.

"Have you had much time to practice the basic stances and strikes recently?"

[for_everyone]

"A few times, but not very much," Hera admits, turning her stance to something more like the one Ysalwen is taking.

"Things have gotten a little busier in my world."

[freedom_is_grey]

Ysa doesn't wince.

"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 . . . ?"

[for_everyone]

"Sure."

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.

[freedom_is_grey]

"If it feels odd, let me know."

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.

[for_everyone]

Hera shakes her head, indeed keeping her grasp on her blade when Ysalwen taps it.

"It's something new," she says. "The same way with the weight of it."

[freedom_is_grey]

"I brought some healing poultices, just in case something gets strained. Or, you know. For bruises."

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."

[for_everyone]

"I'm used to a few bruises," she says, easily enough. But bruises also weren't enough to justify using a medpac, so having the option is still welcome.

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.

[freedom_is_grey]

"Still, my poultices are easy enough to replenish. Elfroot grows out in the woods here, why not use it?"

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.

[for_everyone]

Hera lifts the wooden sword again, this time sweeping the blade into a sideways strike.

"Do you need to -"

How do you ask this? "- have magic, to make something like that?"

[freedom_is_grey]

Ysalwen shifts her own footing, slow and sure, and blocks Hera's strike low. After a moment she swings her blade around, just as slow, and aims a similar strike in Hera's direction.

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?"

[for_everyone]

Hera lifts her blade to meet Ysalwen's.

"I wouldn't say no to more medical supplies."

Especially ones she could easily replace without spending too many credits.

[freedom_is_grey]

"I'll show you where I keep my mortar and pestle and the like, as well as where to find the most common herbs. The recipes early on are simple and don't take much watching. I can't imagine it would take you long to learn them."

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."

[for_everyone]

"We have similar things in my world," Hera answers, moving her sword into a diagonal strike toward Ysalwen.

"But - well, we can't always afford what we might need."

[freedom_is_grey]

Ysalwen moves forward, lifting her sword into a high block, legs braced to give her leverage in order to push back against Hera.

"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."

[for_everyone]

Hera takes a step back as Ysalwen pushes against her.

"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."

[freedom_is_grey]

"Elfroot is a very persistent weed," Ysalwen says, just a little wry, making a slow, careful advance.

"Otherwise I'm sure the Chantry would have only let them survive on holy ground."

[for_everyone]

Hera angles slightly from Ysalwen's advance, and moves to make another sideways strike.

"Sometimes we're lucky, and things turn out like that."

[freedom_is_grey]

"Mmm." Ysalwen's sound of agreement is not quite muffled by the clack of her blade cleanly stopping the sweep of Hera's.

"The rest of the time, it takes a lot of work."

[for_everyone]

"It might be better if medicine were something that came easily in my world," she says, raising her sword again.

"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.

[freedom_is_grey]

"I'd say there's less of the 'might' in that," Ysa acknowledges, trying out a backswing on Hera, slow and steady.

"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."

[for_everyone]

"I wouldn't want to be defenseless, either," Hera readily concedes, moving to meet Ysalwen's swing.

"But I also can't eat my blaster."

[freedom_is_grey]

Ysa's gaze goes distracted for a moment, but clears when Hera's blade impacts hers.

"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."

[for_everyone]

"No."

Hera also hesitates a moment, not immediately moving to strike again. She doesn't return the smile, but eventually answers -

"I know."

[freedom_is_grey]

Ysalwen holds the position of her practice sword, her smile fading slowly.

"A lot of people don't, here and elsewhere. I'm not saying that's a bad thing at all, but . . . "

It's different.

[for_everyone]

Hera blinks up to Ysalwen, then begins to move her sword again.

"It's not easy to forget," she answers, quietly.

[freedom_is_grey]

"No," Ysalwen's agreement is just as quiet, even as she moves her sword to meet Hera's.

"It feels worse, in a way, that we're not the only ones."

[for_everyone]

She taps Ysalwen's sword, then lifts hers again, into another sideways strike.

"No. I wish it were - rarer."

In some ways, it feels like it's getting worse. And fewer people seem to know.

[freedom_is_grey]

"Someday," Ysalwen says, still just as quietly, and lifts her blade for a riposte.

It's not a promise, ones like this are impossible to make. But there is hope in it, and determination.

[for_everyone]

Hera moves her blade away again.

And then asks, after a few more swings, "Am I ready to move a little faster?"

[freedom_is_grey]

"I don't know," Ysa says, a little less quietly this time. "Are you?"

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!