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

[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!