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Mother Confessor:

I am covered in bruises from the many impacts of a practice sword landing decisive and precise strikes upon my body. Not soon after the first few dozen strikes did I desensitize my skin to the harsh assault of the wooden blade as it repeatedly strikes me. Now it is not much more than a dull annoyance instead of a fiery biting with each new strike. This was much more an art than a science. Some of the impact wounds were split and bleeding as my undershirt sticks to my abdomen in many places, both front and back.

“For the last damn time cherry, you need to fight as if your life depended on it! Otherwise I will be training a mass of mangled flesh and bone! And Balls of mangled meat don’t make it on the field except to phlakiwn feed it! So dig in and use your wits damn it!”, Sergeant Nimix growls at my poor performance thus far with using a sword, as she batters me all over the floor.

“Perhaps, Sergeant, that a broad sword is far to clumsy a tool as it is reliant on strength more than skill”, a familiar voice booms from behind me.

“What do you suggest, Captain,” the Sergeant growls back at her superior,” should I teach her how to fight with a bread knife!”.

“Not at all,” Captain Graxis submits coming to my side to stand before the angry Sergeant.

“I will however submit that your expertise on such things is lacking, and I should like to demonstrate that as you seem to temper”, the Captain challenges the Sergeant and her method in teaching the combat skill.

“Hand me your weapon, Private”, the Captain orders me.

“Yes, sir”, I quickly comply passing the heavy lengthy carved piece of wood to the Officer. He takes the handle of it in his large scaly hand, testing it for balance, and weight.

“Clear the floor, Private, double time”, the Captain directs me to leave the openness of the arena,” Watch closely as I show the Sergeant how it is done.”

The Sergeant glares angrily at him as I depart the main part of the floor. Standing at attention just in front of the wall, I observe the two combatants. The Captain seems aloof about the others aggression. Almost as if he has beaten her before the battle has even begun.

Taking a few paces backward the Captain readies himself for an attack. His stance placing his left foot forward and drawing the long blade back at a forty five degree angle pointing down. His left had raised and fingers bent so the tips face the palm. The Sergeant takes a more aggressive position. More of an open legged profile with the blade of the sword pointing strait up, gripped in both hands. Her head turned to face him.

Graxis:

Locking eyes with the ill tempered Sergeant, letting my muscles relax in poise, as she rigidly aligns herself. Her stance betrays, not that she would listen. The air clinging thin and tight as a wire between us. The moments pass on a razors edge waiting for the other to make the first move. Her growls in aggression at my earlier challenge reach my ears. Time seems to slow as she makes her fist attempt at attack. A full text book battle charge. An easy kill for the trained swordsman. As she brings the wide blade down to bear on my left shoulder like a massive cleaver. I swiftly deflect the blow, by slapping the large blade off target with my left palm hard on the flat. Sending it hurling through the air just millimeters from my face as it changes trajectory in an arch to the floor. As the uncontrolled blade falls to about my waist, I jab the Sergeant hard in the sternum causing her to reel as she tries to recover the weapon. She grunts and retreats back a few paces.

“What did I tell you”, I add insult to her injury,” I do not believe you can even touch me, but I shall let you try before I grow tired of your feeble attempts to do so.”