Crossed Swords and Double Jeopardy (Graded)

[Woe]

35th of Vhalar 719

Woe's office smelled of the dusty fumes of dried parchment, and coppery inks. His stationery supplies sat on his desk top, as he worked on his penmanship, trying to sort out his thoughts through the use of freewriting. Against the front of his desk, the Rapier he'd bought earlier leaned, it's hilt raised above the surface of the table. There was scant light, save for what passed as a window. A dirty beam from the sun illuminated the space, and served to dry the ink. Otherwise Woe had to drop powder on the ink to hasten its adherence to the parchment.

The man had taken to holding therapy sessions with aggrieved members of the Etzori populace. He was not only suited to it, but it was also good business, knowing how many suffered from the melancholic moods of late. Immortals knew they had reasons to. The Lisirra had done a bad turn to the Etzori. Yet for all the death and devastation wrought upon the mortal psyche, she left many of the structures intact. It was this free real estate that made it easy for Woe to find a place to set up shop, and lay his head at night.

He'd sent Fleaface abroad the city, with a set of notes and fliers written in Woe's own spidery handwriting. He had put out a call for lessons needed, lessons in swordplay, in specific terms. Woe had never been a great fighter, though he knew well enough how to take a beating. His adroitness on the offense were lacking.

So once again, he sent Fleaface around the city, to scare up an underemployed soldier or sellsword, who might be able to teach hi a trick or two.

Fleaface knocked at his door, which Woe presumed to mean that he found someone. The old man slipped inside, and wrapped his arms behind his back, waiting for the man he'd scared up to enter the office.

Woe looked up , and greeted whoever answered the call, "Hello," He extended his hand to shake. "I'm Woe. I'm the one asking after swordsmanship lessons?"

[Ulric]

35 Vhalar 719 | Arthur and Ulric | Woe's Place

It was a great shame that the first time Ulric and Arthur set foot in Etzos proper it was engulfed in such a haze of melancholy and despair. They'd spent most of their time in the outlying cities but Arthur began to argue that money was tight and he needed to go to the big city for work. Ulric- the dead man- didn't see the importance of materials such as food that he once had and every trial it became harder for him to relate to Arthur's needs. They existed in different spheres now. Arthur needing food and money to stay alive while Ulric needed ectoplasm syphoned from the living to remain sane. It was Arthur's needs that brought the two of them to Woe's residence on the thirty fifth of Vhalar.

The older man known as Fleaface had found Arthur in a bar while the latter was trying to figure out which of the outlying cities he and Ulric were going to visit next and presented him with a fairly simple offer. Arthur hadn't trained anyone with a blade in a long time but he figured that if someone was so desperate as to ask people in the tavern then they must not have been looking for a master... or even an expert. Ulric protested along the way but never in any capacity that Fleaface would hear, or Arthur. Ulric let himself rest in his anchor while trying to ignore Arthur. Ulric would use his time to figure out how possessing objects worked... maybe he'd scare the kid Arthur was being brought to teach.

If Ulric was disappointed to find the perfectly passable Woe waiting for Arthur on the other side of the door he said nothing of it. Arthur stepped into the room with a soft smile on his face. His left hand rested on the hilt of Ulric's anchor- a iron longsword, and his right reached out to shake Woe's hand. "I'm Arthur. I suppose that means I'll be the one teaching you a little swordsmanship." Ulric took this moment to leave his anchor and move into Arthur's body but he did not assume control, instead he laid dormant inside his host. It was an incredibly useful skill he'd developed a short time ago which made travel infinitely easier.

Immortals, look, he wants you to teach him to fight with a toothpick! Ulric's voice rang in Arthur's head and Arthur noticed the rapier leaning on the desk.

"Is that your sword?" Arthur asked, his face betraying nothing.

[Woe]

”Ahh!” Woe said, his face betraying no emotion. Stoic as it ever was, at least for the moment. He reached a hand out to take Arthur’s and shook it firmly. ”Good to meet you Arthur… So you wanted to earn some coin, in exchange for teaching me a bit of swordplay?”

He reached for a bottle of liquor that stood at the edge of his desk, which was something he kept for other people. Not being much of a drinker himself. He found it made other people more amenable to negotiations.

”I have to say, I don’t have very much competence in weaponry of any kind… Although I started to learn the whip a long time ago, as a jailer…” Open as always, Woe hemorrhaged facts about his past like a drunken sailor in a whore’s arms. It was a bad habit he needed to learn to reign in. He shook his head, regardless. Perhaps it would be relevant to the lessons, should the man agree to his price.

”Yes, that’s the sword I chose…” Woe said uncertainly, wondering if the man in front of him might take issue with it’s make or quality. It was of good quality as far as he could tell, and looked like it had good reach for thrusting and perhaps a bit of slashing. Even Woe could see, it was useless when it came to chopping.

”There’s some room in the street, this time of day, if you’d like for us to step out?”

Woe stood up, and walked over to take up the sword by the scabbard, tucking it under his arm as he waited for the other man to follow along.

[Ulric]

35 Vhalar 719 | Arthur and Ulric | Woe's Place

"Well I found the prospect of being paid to teach someone better than the prospect of being paid to fight. I'm hoping for fewer injuries." Arthur replied to Woe's assertion about why Arthur had come without missing a beat. Arthur noticed Woe going for a drink he seemed to keep for occasions but Arthur would have none of it and if Woe began to drink too much Arthur would caution him against it. Arthur was of the opinion that alcohol and swordplay shouldn't mix. Ulric disagreed but that was an issue for a different time.

He's a confident one, isn't he. Ulric's spoke into Arthur's mind when Woe mentioned the street outside and Arthur shook his head but then quickly remembered Woe was unaware of Ulric. He covered his mistake by addressing the blade Woe had chosen. "I'm used to longswords. You're blade is thinner and shorter. If you are agile to accommodate that then this may work but I'm a little concerned I won't be able to help you learn that blade." Arthur explained why he'd asked as he turned side face so Woe could see the blade's Arthur had sheathed at his sides.

Do you want the job or not, Arthur? Take the boy in the street and beat him. Be done with it. Ulric's voice grumbled in Arthur's mind and he sighed. Arthur knew Ulric was right, even if he didn't want to admit it. He'd come to teach the boy the sword and that was what he would do. "All the same, we won't know until we try so grab the sword and lets go."

[Woe]

Woe nodded to the man, and walked out the door, carrying his sword in its scabbard, under his arm. "Well, I do know something of combat, just a little. I know how to use a whip in combat, for instance. But you can imagine not all the skills there are transferable. And I've fought with my bare hands. Just never with a blade."

"I was there during the war effort against Rhakros, yet I was in more of a supporting role. Shadow work and tunneling and all that." Woe frowned to himself, "No less stomach-churning than soldiering, but requiring less in the way of armed conflict." The Webspinner though to gain common ground with Arthur by confiding that he had taken part in the war, like all the other good Etzori citizenry. He presumed Arthur had taken part in that war as well, or he wouldn't be traveling the streets without a crowd haranguing him about his non-participation.

He was polite and discrete enough, however, not to inquire as to Arthur's position in that conflict.

Once they found a spot on the road, well apart from any serious traffic, Woe took the rapier out of its scabbard, all 36 inches of a narrow steel blade, with a triangular cross-section. The hilt was swept with solid wire, and the grip of leather.

He held it upright, like he would a whip, with it angled slightly to the side. Woe clearly wasn't used to handling a sword, as it appeared unwieldy in his hands, and within a few moments of holding the sword; thus, his arm began to shake a bit.

"Let's get underway then?" Woe would wait for the other man to make the first move unless he directed him otherwise.

[Ulric]

35 Vhalar 719 | Arthur and Ulric | Woe's Place

Arthur nodded along as Woe explained that he had some combat experience but ultimately the conclusion was the same, whip and unarmed skill would not help someone fighting with a sword- well that wasn't entirely true because unarmed combat did a lot to help improve your base reaction time and Arthur had always found that to be a useful asset in swordplay. He'd never used a whip for fighting so he didn't know how that could transfer. When Woe brought up the war effort against Rhakros Arthur fell far more silent than he'd already been. Arthur didn't like war the way Ulric did. He didn't feel the drive to mass conflict because death loomed over him... but not over the ghost who accompanied him.

Arthur said nothing of the war and Ulric- for the first time in quite a while, said nothing of it to Arthur either. Some wounds were too fresh to talk about and from what Woe had told him, Woe never entered into Lisirra's domain. Arthur had no will within him to boast of what had happened there, nor the will to even speak the Immortal's name. He let his focus fall to the sword training.

Arthur slowly unsheathed Ulric's iron longsword and as the blade hummed free of it's scabbard, Ulric took control of Arthur's body. If you intend to use my blade, I'll be the one wielding it. Ulric's voice chimed in Arthur's mind. Arthur did not resist Ulric's possession and so the transition would go almost unnoticed. Then Ulric gripped his blade with both of Arthur's hands and drew his right elbow back over his head, bringing the blade up horizontally beside Arthur's head with the tip pointing towards Woe.

"I'll start with a slow advance, focus on parrying my lunge to the right or left." Ulric said through Arthur's mouth, giving Woe a little time to adjust himself before stepping forward and gingerly driving the longsword towards the rapier wielding learner. In a perfect world, Ulric would have had enough experience with a rapier to tell Woe that he was holding it improperly, but this was no perfect world.

[Woe]

The Webspinner nodded respectfully as the warrior didn't say much about the war. Immortals knew the horrors were still fresh on everyone's' minds. Even the coldest, darkest bastard couldn't be left alone for long before the phantoms of that horrific place came to haunt their most vulnerable and fearful thoughts. Woe still had nightmares about the six-foot centipede that had nearly swallowed him and Magpie whole.

And then of the chemical weapons, the devastation they had wrought on mortal bodies. The terror and disgust lingered on Woe's mind as he recalled it. But he tried to suppress it with his Empathy spark, entwining the fear and disgust with threads of confidence in himself. Thus steeled, he proceeded with the training.

All things told, the real difference between a rapier was it's length. Most rapiers were far longer than arming swords, and almost on par with longswords length. It was a narrow blade, but Woe knew steel to an extent, having worked briefly as a farrier. Metal didn't often break against metal unless there was some catastrophic flaw with the metal. The merchant had assured him that the rapier was a good weapon, and Woe hadn't detected any attempt at deception at that time.

Since Woe had no idea what he was doing with the rapier, and how to hold it, he mostly improvised against his teacher. Using his knowledge of unarmed blocks, except using his blade as an extension. It didn't take long as he barely got a parry off on the other man, for him to learn that he was doing it wrong by parrying with the hilt. The blade nearly made contact with his padded gloves but didn't pierce the fabric.

Woe chuckled to himself, and righted himself again, this time lowering the blade of the rapier, to try and keep his opponent at a greater measure to himself.

Another attack, another attempt to cross blades. Woe tried to push the blade out of the way, and clumsily disengaged the bind to attempt landing a blow with the flat on the other man's leg.

[Ulric]

35 Vhalar 719 | Arthur and Ulric | An Alley

Ulric did well to purge his mind of the war. It was too great a distraction when he meant to train Woe with a blade. If he stopped to think about the war then the specter would be overcome with his emotions. He'd become angry and his swings would hit harder. He'd overextend and overexert in the memory of trials long passed. Well perhaps not long passed, but far enough away that Ulric had begun to refocus himself on his larger concern- preparing to kill the man who had killed him. Ulric and Arthur examined how Woe attempted to parry the first strike and took mental notes of what they would do differently. Fortunately for Woe, while neither Arthur or Ulric had very much experience with rapiers, they both knew enough about swordplay in general to deduce some minor improvements for the man.

But before Ulric would break to offer his advice he advanced again with his blade and thrust it towards Woe who performed a somewhat more adept parry before using his momentum to turn his blade towards the flat of Ulric's- well Arthur's, leg. He'd have succeeded as well if Ulric had not been possessing Arthur because while Arthur was sporting enough to let the grazing blow land, Ulric was not given to such simple kindnesses. When Woe pushed his blade aside, Ulric jumped back slightly to completely avoid Woe's swing. "Better." Ulric commended.

"It might help you to stand a little more side face, with the blade out. You'd make a smaller target for me that way." Ulric said as he tried to demonstrate using Arthur's body. He shifted to stand as side face as he meant Woe to and then held his longsword out with one hand which was heavy but not unbearably so. Then Ulric returned to his plow stance with his longsword by drawing the hilt back with both hands towards his wait so the tip of the blade pointed towards Woe's head. "I'll advance again, focus on your defense but feel free to strike if you think you see a chance." A few bits later Ulric, true to his word, would step forward thrusting his blade forwards towards Woe. He'd continue to press his offense for about four blows if Woe made no move to counter him before then.

[Woe]

Woe was encouraged by his early success. But he knew well enough the threat of confidence. Confidence was the spice of a webspinner's life, instilling confidence in others to lure them into a trap. Webspinners were taught from an early age to purge any sense of importance of self-confidence. This tended to make them paranoid, ill-tempered people. The indoctrination of Erastus to Woe had gone somewhat awry, in making him into a shy, sensitive boy. A boy that hadn't done too much growing emotionally in the last decade or so.


"It might help you to stand a little more side face, with the blade out. You'd make a smaller target for me that way."

Arthur told him, and Woe nodded. It made sense to him, given his understanding of the geometry of battle. One couldn't land a hit if their weapon fell on an empty space.

Woe lowered his blade as he presented his right side to Arthur, and then nodded that he could continue. The first blow landed on his forearm, causing Woe to gasp as the flat bruised his muscle. But soon enough the sword was coming back and around for another few light, and non-lethal strikes of the flat.

Woe parried one of them, clumsily, and nearly lost his sword as the last strike attacked his bicep. Fuck... Woe spat to the side as he recovered his posture, stepping away to make a void between them. Bastard is fast.

Woe's eyes shone with some malice as he considered his next move. Within his tangle, he called up those strands of fear that he'd entwined with confidence. Within a few moments, he'd receive a shot of adrenaline going through his system.

Woe took a slow breath, in and out. Then he came forward, testing the empty space for tension, The capped cork on the tip of his rapier would prevent him from stabbing anyone, even if by accident. So he felt no apprehension.

He thrust tentatively at the man's sword hand, when he made the recovery of the blade, lifting the line of his blade to cover his right flank, if Arthur counterattacked him there.

[Ulric]

35 Vhalar 719 | Arthur and Ulric | An Alley

Ulric strikes came down on Woe relatively unstopped and while Arthur felt pity for Woe because he knew the pain that came with a whack from the flat of a blade, Ulric merely examined why the man's technique had failed. Ulric didn't understand the pain as he once had. It was a memory he let himself forget in order to persevere, to strive for something greater than mortal limitations. He realized the he was moving too quickly for Woe to keep up with a made a mental note to slow down his movements. He'd swing his sword just a little slower to allow Woe some more time to react.

Yet before Ulric could put such accommodations into practice, Woe's body seemed to shift and tense in a way all too familiar to Ulric. Woe was going to strike. The thin blade was thrust out with less confidence than Ulric anticipated and the man's form could still stand to improve some- not that it mattered. Ulric drew his blade up to parry Woe's thrust and when he brought it around himself to strike he was pleased to find Woe had anticipated his move and prepared a defense. The flat of Ulric's sword collided with Woe's and Ulric stepped a pace back.

"Very good. Again." And without another word Arthur lunged with his blade towards Woe. If parried, he'd bring his sword around to defend his right flank, if blocked he would bring it around to swing at Woe's right flank slowly enough for the man to see and attempt some defense against it.