1st of Vhalar
Continued from here...
"How the fuck...?" But then Clavam's eyes sighting Battlemage and hearing his voice answered the question. It was among one of the Battlemage's arcane talents.
"Sovereign." He replied, nevertheless. "It is the mastery of kinetic movement over unliving objects. Such as your new great sword."
Battlemage conveyed a glance over the blade of Clavam's work. The half of his face that was visible betrayed nothing in the way of judgment, one way or another as he viewed the work. But before long, he pushed the sword telekinetically toward Clavam, into his chest. Clavam's hand shot instinctively toward its bronze hilt. "I paid for the steel ingots that made it, if that's your issue, Battlemage."
"Insubordinate..." Battlemage muttered. Clavam's jaw tightened at the tone. "Perhaps you'd make a good student, though."
Without waiting for another moment, the battlemage summoned his great sword to his hand from across the room. He held it by the scabbard like a staff for just a blink, before the blade came free of it and landed into his hand. Then he cast away the scabbard.
Clavam's astonishment at the show of power was all he could do before the Battlemage was moving on him, swinging the sword in wide swathes in front of him. Clavam didn't have much confidence that he could outright block a full-on assault from the battlemage, so he backpedaled, swiftly as he could.
"I barely know how to use the thing!" Clavam warned.
"Good, it's been sometime since I engaged a complete novice." Battlemage retorted. "I've wanted to try my skills against the unpredictability of the untrained."
But then, Clavam was only telling part of the truth. A great sword in some ways had more in common with polearms than arming swords. There were similar techniques, such as bracing thrusts, and the way one could hold it along the bottom half of the blade, half-swording techniques and such.
He engaged in this way, gripping it at the dull space on the blade below the cutting edge, and using it as a spear to engage Morgue. A few swipes of Morgue's blade, Clavam tried to fling them along on their momentum, to carry them past the point of danger. However, this only increased the momentum of the mage's strikes, as he cut in wide circles that came around deceptively fast from the apex of the strikes. He found he was not helping himself in parrying or deflecting the blade.
So he had to find an opening, or else... Get lost in the mess of target pells, straw targets, and dummies.
So he backtracked, getting into the mix of training equipment, and holding his own great sword as if it were a spear.
Clavam thought the sound of Morgue's chuckles vibrated through the air to his position, a low and predatory sound that sent his nerves on edge as he attempted to find a good position from which to attain a bottleneck.
He found his place, between two of those moving dummies that Morgue had employed during Clavam's first training session, where the Battlemage had sought to figure out what he could do. The Battlemage had used them to batter and bruise Clavam into some semblance of surrender then, but now Clavam saw them as comrades, with which to make a stand against the Battlemage's advance.
"How the fuck...?" But then Clavam's eyes sighting Battlemage and hearing his voice answered the question. It was among one of the Battlemage's arcane talents.
"Sovereign." He replied, nevertheless. "It is the mastery of kinetic movement over unliving objects. Such as your new great sword."
Battlemage conveyed a glance over the blade of Clavam's work. The half of his face that was visible betrayed nothing in the way of judgment, one way or another as he viewed the work. But before long, he pushed the sword telekinetically toward Clavam, into his chest. Clavam's hand shot instinctively toward its bronze hilt. "I paid for the steel ingots that made it, if that's your issue, Battlemage."
"Insubordinate..." Battlemage muttered. Clavam's jaw tightened at the tone. "Perhaps you'd make a good student, though."
Without waiting for another moment, the battlemage summoned his great sword to his hand from across the room. He held it by the scabbard like a staff for just a blink, before the blade came free of it and landed into his hand. Then he cast away the scabbard.
Clavam's astonishment at the show of power was all he could do before the Battlemage was moving on him, swinging the sword in wide swathes in front of him. Clavam didn't have much confidence that he could outright block a full-on assault from the battlemage, so he backpedaled, swiftly as he could.
"I barely know how to use the thing!" Clavam warned.
"Good, it's been sometime since I engaged a complete novice." Battlemage retorted. "I've wanted to try my skills against the unpredictability of the untrained."
But then, Clavam was only telling part of the truth. A great sword in some ways had more in common with polearms than arming swords. There were similar techniques, such as bracing thrusts, and the way one could hold it along the bottom half of the blade, half-swording techniques and such.
He engaged in this way, gripping it at the dull space on the blade below the cutting edge, and using it as a spear to engage Morgue. A few swipes of Morgue's blade, Clavam tried to fling them along on their momentum, to carry them past the point of danger. However, this only increased the momentum of the mage's strikes, as he cut in wide circles that came around deceptively fast from the apex of the strikes. He found he was not helping himself in parrying or deflecting the blade.
So he had to find an opening, or else... Get lost in the mess of target pells, straw targets, and dummies.
So he backtracked, getting into the mix of training equipment, and holding his own great sword as if it were a spear.
Clavam thought the sound of Morgue's chuckles vibrated through the air to his position, a low and predatory sound that sent his nerves on edge as he attempted to find a good position from which to attain a bottleneck.
He found his place, between two of those moving dummies that Morgue had employed during Clavam's first training session, where the Battlemage had sought to figure out what he could do. The Battlemage had used them to batter and bruise Clavam into some semblance of surrender then, but now Clavam saw them as comrades, with which to make a stand against the Battlemage's advance.