by Artal » Sun Aug 15, 2021 9:08 pm
The Long Road to Learning part 3
His arms stung, with each strike rattling off the wooden shield he braced in front of himself. Forced backwards by the power of the strike he crouched low and drew his practice sword up beside it, preparing to counter. The graying man-at-arms moved forward after him lazily, his blunted sword arcing down once more. "Parry" The man commanded in a strong voice. So he did, with the shield casting the strike off easily as it bounded away. He thrust his forward, which the man parried easily once more. Scoffing as he did. "Weak strike, you need to mean it." Growling under his breath Artal circled away readying himself the next attempt. 'Stalked.' Is how he felt, as the man paced forward again, feet crossing over one another in a rhythmic dance like movement. Again he drew his sword and this time it was a sweeping blow aimed at his middle. "Deflect." The command came, so he drew his shield back slightly and cast his sword up at the incoming weapon. Catching it and jarring it up. "Good. Again." The man commanded as he swung it again coming from the other side. Moving to the opposite side he attempting to bring his sword up but he was too slow, only sparingly catching it before it cruised off his own practice sword and into the meat of his arm right above the elbow. Grunting he dropped. Sword left arm, and rested upon his neck. "Dead. Again." The strong voice from above stated the obvious, and footsteps drew away from him. Moving across the loft where they had been practicing. "Better still, but miles to move." Announced from across the room. Looking up Artal stared as the man cast shield down against a timber that braced the arching loft. Clad in red and white the man looked impressive, his movements most of all. Each step was meaningful. 'Could I move like that?' Artal thought as the man leaned the sword down as well. Noticing he was being watched the man stopped and crossed his arms. "Well?"
"Sorry Sir, was just thinkin'." Said while he stood up, rubbing his arm and picking up his fallen sword. Dented and tarnished the thing was still heavy. Weeks of this and he was still not used to its weight. And the man was talking about upgrading to a heavier weapon soon. The thought of it made him groan. Moving off to his side of the loft he leaned it against a weapons rack, which was filled with far better weaponry for practicing. Always eyeing the large spears whenever they practiced. 'If I had a spear like that, those monsters would have thought twice about hurtin me.' Thought with a scowl. As he placed shield beside sword. "Thinking about what?" The question came quickly, interrupting his line of thought. Turning he nodded before moving before the man and sitting cross legged on the floor. He was wearing the same clothes he practiced his dancin in. A towel hit him in the face before he could answer, so he began wiping away answering while draped in the cloth.
"That if I kept praciticin' I could be as good as you sir?" Shot out from behind the safety of the fluffy towel, now being drenched in his sweat.
"Years of practice sure lad, and a life time of experience. But anyone can if they put in the work." The tone was softer than he expected. The man always had a more fierce tone than his other teachers. But it caused him to pause, so he pulled the towel away after drying at his face.
"And the other weapons? I can get good with those too?" Answered with a quick and cheerful tone Artal stared up at the man. Who smiled in return and nodded.
"Spear, axe, mace. You can learn what you put the effort into. Myself and many others more than willing to teach you all you wish to know. For now though, we practice with sword and shield. Offense and defense. With your other lessons we will make sure you can survive out there. What you do from there we shall see." The man turned from him and began the descent from the loft, each footstep ringing out loudly in the alcove they had practiced in. The opening and closing of a door followed. So Artal quickly cast the towel onto a small stool by the weapons rack and raced down the ladder before dragging his shirt of a table in the hall before the rise above. Dragging it on over his head he moved quickly, yet slowly all the same. It had caught him off guard being led up into the direction of the Palace. Only to become even more anxious when they crossed beyond the gate from the road into the vicinity of it. To practice in this area, this close to the palace. It was overwhelming any day. But it had become easier with each trip. Moving passed the fountain he moved toward the gate with the red and white clad Queen's Guardsmen nodding and allowing him back out into the streets beyond. Moving down the paved way south, directly toward the square and the inn near it. His thoughts drifted back toward the note. After all that time he had spent on it, he had worked out it out entirely, but he had more questions than answers.
'Those who watch you work not alone. A network spanning all of Andor and beyond. You need to be careful when traveling the world. The truth must be found, but you must observe patience. They watch you, so you must watch them, learn who they are and then you can find the truth. Those who you trust, truly trust keep close. And those who you think you trust. watch.' It was all too much, very short and not very clear to him. Some of the words were a mess as the blood had stained the paper thoroughly but he made out as best he could. The bottom of the note was not signed. But he knew who left it. The ageless woman with the blonde hair. The one who healed his face. Instinctively his hand rose to where the scar ran. Down the right side of his face, the portion where his eye was had fully healed thanks to her. And the faint scar left behind ran down his cheek. Light had disappeared throughout the city as he made his way quickly south. The only sound were his footsteps. Beneath the lamplight. Crossing past the armor smith shop and the weapon smith shop he was nearly toward the square. When he heard another set of footsteps behind him. Followed by another. His heart began to race, as he moved quickly on. Each step of his, was immediately met by those other steps. Lamps flickered above, casting light where he moved. But in between that and the next lamp there was a zone of darkness, enveloping everything. Moving forward he crossed into the main road through the center of Caemlyn, and immediately darted off west. Into the darkness he thrust himself. Clambering forward slowly until he moved forward into the shadows, crouching down between two small buildings, behind a wagon and beside some crates. He made himself small, As small as he could manage. Down into the darkness as far back as he could. He heard the curses ring out in the streets from where he ran. He saw four figures, draped by the darkness move off down the street. Time stood still, as they crossed about looking everywhere. Looking to find him. He pulled the dark cloak up around his face and pinched his eyes shut. Thump. Thump. All he could hear was his heart, threatening to beat right out of his chest. 'I am being watched, and now I am being followed.' The thought raced through his head. Sitting for what seemed an eternity he waited. Listened. Until he was sure nothing was around. No longer did he heard the curses, or the shuffling of feet up and down the streets. His eyes hurt slightly with the light of the lamps now brightly shining upon the streets but they adjusted quickly. Rising from his hiding spot he moved slowly, half crouched from beside the crate and around the wagon. Back out from the alley between the two buildings. Fully crouched he watched up the road, toward the inn. Nothing moved. Nobody was out and about. Springing forward he ran, as fast as he could until he moved up the street away from his hiding spot and all the way to the door. Which he nearly crashed through and closed roughly behind him wit a slam. Up the stairs and into the room he was panting. The whole of the upper floor was empty, save a few of the serving staff moving about. No sign of Basel or Lamgwin, until he cast his glance back toward the library. Lamgwin seemed to see him so he rushed forward, through the doorway and stopped dead in his tracks. The window was open, blowing the cool air in throughout. And Basel was standing at the door to his little room. Moving inside he instantly got angry. The blanket, HIS blanket. Was upon the floor along with all of the books and other things scattered about. Panic surged into him once more and he dragged the chair from the small table and jumped upon it. The soldier was on its side, and the note. It was gone.
"Lad, we heard nothing. Saw no one." Lamgwin was saying. They had his note, now they knew that they had been found out. Or they knew that he knew he was being watched at least.
"Did you hide the note up there, is that why you are looking?" Basel asked, so he turned and gave the man a nod. He cursed, bloody ashes to be exact. Very uncommon for him. Artal smiled regardless. Which drew a confused look from both the men. "What?" The man asked of him.
"You cursed." He said laughing quickly before adding. "And it doesn't matter, they obviously knew about the note. But I finally figured it out, I memorized it. And can write it back down." His statement drew an approving nod from Lamgwin who quickly moved off from within the room.
"Ignore my cursing Artal. It is serious, they got into the inn and into your room without our hearing." The man had his arms crossed and looked very annoyed.
"They also stalked me from my practice, and nearly had me. I had to hide and run here when they moved passed me sir. But now I know they will try to get me." Said while dropping to his bottom upon the chair. Lamgwin re entered the room with a small sheet of paper and a set of quill with ink bottle. Setting them upon the table.
"What?" Basel exclaimed, while looking to Lamgwin. "They followed him from the palace, almost nabbed him in the streets. We need to re think everything now." Hands began to wring upon one another. Lamgwin looked less concerned. "They missed, crafty little bugger this one." Smile returned, but Basel stopped his movements, looking far more annoyed. Artal dipped the quill into the ink, and began to write the words down as he had memorized them.
"This is what kept him so long, between the training and then having to disappear in the streets. Its why he missed his visitor." Lamgwin stated, which drew him to stop writing and flick his head around to look. The statement settled in on Lamgwin as well. As he had a look on his face. "What visitor" Artal called out. And Basel answered.
"The carriage arrived around mid day, Soth had come to check in on you." Basel stopped speaking at once, exchanging a glance with Lamgwin.
"A network." Artal spoke quietly, to the two of them. "That are watching me." The thought lingered, eating at him. Soth had carriages crossing all the land. Through Andor and beyond. The man knew him, and had his men driving those wagons throughout the land.
"Known him for years lad." Basel started, but he stopped once more. Looking angrier by the second. "And the damned man was here in the library for his meal." Moving off out of the room Basel stormed away, and Artal looked to Lamgwin who nodded. Before moving outside into the library. Taking up a seat near the window. Artal turned his attention back to the paper, carefully placing the words exactly as he had memorized onto the paper. Each stroke slow, and steady. His practice at writing was pitiful. But he would get better. It had been a long road to be where he was, but he was only just getting started. Soth, with his network of carriages was watching him. But why? And for who? He would be patient, and he would learn the truth.
The Long Road to Learning part 3
His arms stung, with each strike rattling off the wooden shield he braced in front of himself. Forced backwards by the power of the strike he crouched low and drew his practice sword up beside it, preparing to counter. The graying man-at-arms moved forward after him lazily, his blunted sword arcing down once more. "Parry" The man commanded in a strong voice. So he did, with the shield casting the strike off easily as it bounded away. He thrust his forward, which the man parried easily once more. Scoffing as he did. "Weak strike, you need to mean it." Growling under his breath Artal circled away readying himself the next attempt. 'Stalked.' Is how he felt, as the man paced forward again, feet crossing over one another in a rhythmic dance like movement. Again he drew his sword and this time it was a sweeping blow aimed at his middle. "Deflect." The command came, so he drew his shield back slightly and cast his sword up at the incoming weapon. Catching it and jarring it up. "Good. Again." The man commanded as he swung it again coming from the other side. Moving to the opposite side he attempting to bring his sword up but he was too slow, only sparingly catching it before it cruised off his own practice sword and into the meat of his arm right above the elbow. Grunting he dropped. Sword left arm, and rested upon his neck. "Dead. Again." The strong voice from above stated the obvious, and footsteps drew away from him. Moving across the loft where they had been practicing. "Better still, but miles to move." Announced from across the room. Looking up Artal stared as the man cast shield down against a timber that braced the arching loft. Clad in red and white the man looked impressive, his movements most of all. Each step was meaningful. 'Could I move like that?' Artal thought as the man leaned the sword down as well. Noticing he was being watched the man stopped and crossed his arms. "Well?"
"Sorry Sir, was just thinkin'." Said while he stood up, rubbing his arm and picking up his fallen sword. Dented and tarnished the thing was still heavy. Weeks of this and he was still not used to its weight. And the man was talking about upgrading to a heavier weapon soon. The thought of it made him groan. Moving off to his side of the loft he leaned it against a weapons rack, which was filled with far better weaponry for practicing. Always eyeing the large spears whenever they practiced. 'If I had a spear like that, those monsters would have thought twice about hurtin me.' Thought with a scowl. As he placed shield beside sword. "Thinking about what?" The question came quickly, interrupting his line of thought. Turning he nodded before moving before the man and sitting cross legged on the floor. He was wearing the same clothes he practiced his dancin in. A towel hit him in the face before he could answer, so he began wiping away answering while draped in the cloth.
"That if I kept praciticin' I could be as good as you sir?" Shot out from behind the safety of the fluffy towel, now being drenched in his sweat.
"Years of practice sure lad, and a life time of experience. But anyone can if they put in the work." The tone was softer than he expected. The man always had a more fierce tone than his other teachers. But it caused him to pause, so he pulled the towel away after drying at his face.
"And the other weapons? I can get good with those too?" Answered with a quick and cheerful tone Artal stared up at the man. Who smiled in return and nodded.
"Spear, axe, mace. You can learn what you put the effort into. Myself and many others more than willing to teach you all you wish to know. For now though, we practice with sword and shield. Offense and defense. With your other lessons we will make sure you can survive out there. What you do from there we shall see." The man turned from him and began the descent from the loft, each footstep ringing out loudly in the alcove they had practiced in. The opening and closing of a door followed. So Artal quickly cast the towel onto a small stool by the weapons rack and raced down the ladder before dragging his shirt of a table in the hall before the rise above. Dragging it on over his head he moved quickly, yet slowly all the same. It had caught him off guard being led up into the direction of the Palace. Only to become even more anxious when they crossed beyond the gate from the road into the vicinity of it. To practice in this area, this close to the palace. It was overwhelming any day. But it had become easier with each trip. Moving passed the fountain he moved toward the gate with the red and white clad Queen's Guardsmen nodding and allowing him back out into the streets beyond. Moving down the paved way south, directly toward the square and the inn near it. His thoughts drifted back toward the note. After all that time he had spent on it, he had worked out it out entirely, but he had more questions than answers.
'Those who watch you work not alone. A network spanning all of Andor and beyond. You need to be careful when traveling the world. The truth must be found, but you must observe patience. They watch you, so you must watch them, learn who they are and then you can find the truth. Those who you trust, truly trust keep close. And those who you think you trust. watch.' It was all too much, very short and not very clear to him. Some of the words were a mess as the blood had stained the paper thoroughly but he made out as best he could. The bottom of the note was not signed. But he knew who left it. The ageless woman with the blonde hair. The one who healed his face. Instinctively his hand rose to where the scar ran. Down the right side of his face, the portion where his eye was had fully healed thanks to her. And the faint scar left behind ran down his cheek. Light had disappeared throughout the city as he made his way quickly south. The only sound were his footsteps. Beneath the lamplight. Crossing past the armor smith shop and the weapon smith shop he was nearly toward the square. When he heard another set of footsteps behind him. Followed by another. His heart began to race, as he moved quickly on. Each step of his, was immediately met by those other steps. Lamps flickered above, casting light where he moved. But in between that and the next lamp there was a zone of darkness, enveloping everything. Moving forward he crossed into the main road through the center of Caemlyn, and immediately darted off west. Into the darkness he thrust himself. Clambering forward slowly until he moved forward into the shadows, crouching down between two small buildings, behind a wagon and beside some crates. He made himself small, As small as he could manage. Down into the darkness as far back as he could. He heard the curses ring out in the streets from where he ran. He saw four figures, draped by the darkness move off down the street. Time stood still, as they crossed about looking everywhere. Looking to find him. He pulled the dark cloak up around his face and pinched his eyes shut. Thump. Thump. All he could hear was his heart, threatening to beat right out of his chest. 'I am being watched, and now I am being followed.' The thought raced through his head. Sitting for what seemed an eternity he waited. Listened. Until he was sure nothing was around. No longer did he heard the curses, or the shuffling of feet up and down the streets. His eyes hurt slightly with the light of the lamps now brightly shining upon the streets but they adjusted quickly. Rising from his hiding spot he moved slowly, half crouched from beside the crate and around the wagon. Back out from the alley between the two buildings. Fully crouched he watched up the road, toward the inn. Nothing moved. Nobody was out and about. Springing forward he ran, as fast as he could until he moved up the street away from his hiding spot and all the way to the door. Which he nearly crashed through and closed roughly behind him wit a slam. Up the stairs and into the room he was panting. The whole of the upper floor was empty, save a few of the serving staff moving about. No sign of Basel or Lamgwin, until he cast his glance back toward the library. Lamgwin seemed to see him so he rushed forward, through the doorway and stopped dead in his tracks. The window was open, blowing the cool air in throughout. And Basel was standing at the door to his little room. Moving inside he instantly got angry. The blanket, HIS blanket. Was upon the floor along with all of the books and other things scattered about. Panic surged into him once more and he dragged the chair from the small table and jumped upon it. The soldier was on its side, and the note. It was gone.
"Lad, we heard nothing. Saw no one." Lamgwin was saying. They had his note, now they knew that they had been found out. Or they knew that he knew he was being watched at least.
"Did you hide the note up there, is that why you are looking?" Basel asked, so he turned and gave the man a nod. He cursed, bloody ashes to be exact. Very uncommon for him. Artal smiled regardless. Which drew a confused look from both the men. "What?" The man asked of him.
"You cursed." He said laughing quickly before adding. "And it doesn't matter, they obviously knew about the note. But I finally figured it out, I memorized it. And can write it back down." His statement drew an approving nod from Lamgwin who quickly moved off from within the room.
"Ignore my cursing Artal. It is serious, they got into the inn and into your room without our hearing." The man had his arms crossed and looked very annoyed.
"They also stalked me from my practice, and nearly had me. I had to hide and run here when they moved passed me sir. But now I know they will try to get me." Said while dropping to his bottom upon the chair. Lamgwin re entered the room with a small sheet of paper and a set of quill with ink bottle. Setting them upon the table.
"What?" Basel exclaimed, while looking to Lamgwin. "They followed him from the palace, almost nabbed him in the streets. We need to re think everything now." Hands began to wring upon one another. Lamgwin looked less concerned. "They missed, crafty little bugger this one." Smile returned, but Basel stopped his movements, looking far more annoyed. Artal dipped the quill into the ink, and began to write the words down as he had memorized them.
"This is what kept him so long, between the training and then having to disappear in the streets. Its why he missed his visitor." Lamgwin stated, which drew him to stop writing and flick his head around to look. The statement settled in on Lamgwin as well. As he had a look on his face. "What visitor" Artal called out. And Basel answered.
"The carriage arrived around mid day, Soth had come to check in on you." Basel stopped speaking at once, exchanging a glance with Lamgwin.
"A network." Artal spoke quietly, to the two of them. "That are watching me." The thought lingered, eating at him. Soth had carriages crossing all the land. Through Andor and beyond. The man knew him, and had his men driving those wagons throughout the land.
"Known him for years lad." Basel started, but he stopped once more. Looking angrier by the second. "And the damned man was here in the library for his meal." Moving off out of the room Basel stormed away, and Artal looked to Lamgwin who nodded. Before moving outside into the library. Taking up a seat near the window. Artal turned his attention back to the paper, carefully placing the words exactly as he had memorized onto the paper. Each stroke slow, and steady. His practice at writing was pitiful. But he would get better. It had been a long road to be where he was, but he was only just getting started. Soth, with his network of carriages was watching him. But why? And for who? He would be patient, and he would learn the truth.