Learning from a master (Cheshire x kuro)

[UltraMechaStalin]

"You?! Weapons Master?"

The frustrated guard spat on the floor and pointed a finger at Vallios, a look of absolute indignation on his face. The man stomped his plated foot against the floor of the training hall and then reached for his spear. Vallios sighed quietly and turned to face the interloper, waving a hand dismissively at the gathered 30 trainees. Vallios merely smirked and shook his head, clearing his jaw length raven hair from his face. When he spoke, he did so with an accent that echoed the frigid tones of the northern winds.

"If you think yourself more fit for the title...Pick any three weapons. I will use them to combat you. You may choose as many weapons as you wish." Vallios responded cooly.

Every weapon in the training room was an edgeless copy, perfect for maximum training with minimum lethality. The Ahn'kir chamber guard chuckled softly and began to rummage through the weapon racks, looking for the most unwieldy combination possible, along with the most outlandish weapons. From the gathered arms he picked a Kama, a heavy broad bladed falchion, and an eight foot long chain. He set them on the bench, and then retrieved a sturdy pike, a large tower shield, and a longsword.

"Have fun with that, Weapons Master."

The guard placed mocking emphasis on the title. Vallios just shook his head and swaggered over to the selected weapons. With practiced ease he wrapped the chain around his waist and upper legs, then he retrieved the kama and settled it in his off-hand. He picked up the falchion, swung it in circles a few times and then turned to face his opponent, assuming a ready and balanced stance. The guard had unwittingly picked two of Vallios' preferred weapons. Few knew it, but the imperial weaponsmiths had learned how to craft a falchion from Vallios' clan, and a masterfully crafted barbed chain hung in Vallios' quarters, hungry for blood and anxiously awaiting it's next chance to wreak havoc on the battlefield. This was going to end poorly for the challenger.

"Whoa!"

"By the gods, how can he hold such a heavy weapon like that?"

Most of the gathered trainees were new recruits, who'd never seen what being a Weapons Master meant. Even the challenger was a bit taken aback at the ease which Vallios adapted to the situation. Nevertheless he struck his longsword against his shield once, twice, and three times...The traditional sign that he was ready. Vallios danced forward, leading with his offhand. The challenger lunged and swung wide with his shield, hoping to knock Vallios from his feet. A twist of the wrist and then the square pommel of the kama slammed on the center of the oncoming shield, while kick was aimed for the guard's exposed knee.

The guard reacted in time to step away from the kick, surprised that Vallios had countered so readily. Once more he knocked blade against shield, taunting Vallios. Vallios took the bait willingly, coming in with an arcing slash from the falchion. Backed into a corner, the guard forced his shoulder forward and then thrust with his sword, going for Vallios' apparently exposed ribs. That kama was ready however, and it easily caught the blade and forced the guard's main hand high. Vallios stepped inwards and caught his opponent with a vicious elbow to the ribs, followed by a fierce kick to the chest. Vallios stepped forward as his opponent fell back, whipping both weapons up and then down in a rolling arcing slash that the staggered challenger barely managed to block. A loud clattering filled the hall as both falchion and kama hit the floor, it appeared as if Vallios had been disarmed... In reality that wasn't the case. It'd been a ruse, which became apparent as that chain was swiftly unwrapped. Vallios' stance changed abruptly, from the heavy centered focus of before to a more fluid and mobile step. The chain arced and cut through the air, quickly working itself into a dizzying curtain of certain death. Working both ends Vallios struck, hands spinning and twisting in the large circular links that served as handholds for the exotic weapon. Now Vallios had the severe advantage of the reach. The challenger realized that and took several rapid steps back, retrieving his pike. The guardsman continued to step back and around, waiting for Vallios' advance. And so Vallios began to strike, displaying astounding proficiency as he hurled the chain out to it's full eight foot length and then snapped it back in vicious slashes. Steel slammed against wood floor, and the metal links howled a shrill song, every strike seeming to hold the fury of a condensed storm. Somehow, through the onslaught Vallios did not tire. With every strike he worked closer, the chain shortening as both ends began to work. Eventually, the desperate guard found himself overwhelmed and he began to thrust with abandon, hoping to strike a decisive blow. No such luck found it's way to the unfortunate guard.. One end of the chain wrapped around the pike and with a wicked tug Vallios ripped the weapon free from his opponents grasp, and then released a flurry of blows from both ends of the chain. It was fortunate that the weapon was barbless, otherwise the challenger would have been literally torn to bits. When the beaten man crumpled to his knees Vallios stopped the assault and stepped back, his breathing measured and calm. He cleared his throat and turned to address the class, acting as if it had been nothing more than a demonstration.


"Weapons are not but an extension of the will; The will to kill, and the will to survive. You must adapt to every weapon you hold, allow it to become your arms, it's blade, it's weight your fingers. Allow it's limits to become your own, and then overcome them."

 

[sorchasilver]

Elizabeth gazed out idly out the sprawling front windows of the sitting room. Outside the sun shone upon the lovely gardens and birds could be heard chirping cheerfully. Her mind wandered aimlessly and the lack of attention clearly showed on her pretty face. Before her stood a rather imposing woman with steel gray hair pulled into a severe bun and a disapproving expression on her face. In fact everything about the woman spoke of iron will and a strict personality. “Elizabeth, you will pay attention to these lessons.” The woman stated in an icy tone slapping the arm of the chair in which Elizabeth currently lounged. “They are essential to your ascension as the Matriarch of the Ahn’kir family.”

The young woman gave a start and turned her emerald eyes upon her aunt. “Aunt Beatrix you have gone over these lessons of duty and the responsibility of leading this household until I could recite them in my sleep. Is there nothing new to learn before I become the head of the family?” She inquired with a frown.

Elizabeth had always been an impatient child. She was the first daughter and Beatrix considered the girl altogether too spoiled to be the head of any household let alone one as important as the Ahn’kir. The girl had been blessed with the beauty of her mother and the cleverness of her father but she seemed to lack any real back bone. The girl was in for a mighty surprise when she started her new training.

Beatrix compressed her lips into a thin line. This was always a clear indicator the woman was becoming irritated with her niece. “You will never become the head of this household if you cannot pay attention.” She snapped. “Perhaps it is time for some new lessons.” She mused with a thoughtful smile. This abrupt change in attitude worried Elizabeth. What possible torture would cause her rigid aunt to smile like that? “Very well Elizabeth, I will arrange for the next level of training. Maybe your next teacher will be able to succeed in making you a proper Matriarch. I hope you are prepared for your next course will not be an easy one.” With that last cryptic comment Beatrix sailed out of the room look entirely too pleased.

Elizabeth sat back in the chair unable to keep a small feeling of worry from welling up in the pit of her stomach. Her aunt never sounded pleased about anything but whatever ordeal she was about to be thrust into seemed to have cheered the steely woman up considerably. She rose to her feet and tossed her wavy, chestnut hair over her shoulder. “Whatever Beatrix has planned I will overcome like any other obstacle set in path.” The young woman murmured to herself. “I can handle anything she can throw at me.” It was an arrogant sentiment and one that was about to be severely tested.

 

[UltraMechaStalin]

A boy of no older than thirteen came skittering into the room, out of breath and panting. Obviously he had ran from the uppermost floors of the Ahn'kir keep to deliver his message. The pages were always frantic, running about as if the fate of the world depended upon the delivery of their messages. Which was good, because sometimes they were given very important words to deliver.

"Weapons Master, Sir...Your presence is requested in the Matron's Sitting Room."

Slowly Vallios turned, eyes full of hatred. They knew he had lessons scheduled until the fifth hour past noon! Damn Beatrix and her blasted agendas! Did she not understand that he had more important things to do than deal with a young woman who thought herself more important than the sun itself? Unfortunately Vallios knew he would have to yield to Beatrix's will, otherwise the woman would hover and nag at him while he was in the forges, or find him during his own practice time and ruin any chance at focusing on the forms. The woman was absolutely insufferable and Vallios wished with all his heart that she'd been taken by an assassin's blade instead of the late Matron.

"You are dismissed, thank you for your service. As for the rest of you, I'm sure the stablehands need help. Make yourselves useful!"

It was amazing how loud thirty adolescent males could manage to make a collective groan. But they knew better than to argue with Vallios, the previous Weapons Master had made it quite clear to the class when Vallios took over their lessons that his authority was absolute. Vallios retrieved the heavy, broad bladed falchion that normally rested in a sheath at his hip and the long, leaf shaped dagger from the racks he'd set them on before beginning the lesson. Once properly armed he made his way through the winding halls and spiral staircases of the massive Ahn'kir complex, making haste to the Sitting Room. Best to get this over with as soon as possible so he could see to more pressing matters.


If Beatrix expected Vallios to stop and dawn proper attire she would be sorely disappointed. Despite living amongst "civilization" for sixteen years now, Vallios was still a Baarskor at heart. The lessons and ways of the northern people were ingrained into his very soul and he refused to abandon his culture. While most in the city dressed themselves in the silks and cottons of the various seamstresses and loom-masters, Vallios wore only garments of leathers, furs, and hide he'd hunted personally, stitched by his own hand and bound by catgut he prepared. It took nothing short of a royal ultimatum to force Vallios into the ceremonial garb of the ahn'kir weapons master.

Today he wore a pair of simple leather leggings and a black-dyed hide vest that seemed more of a harness, crossing in an X from shoulder to hip, his feet covered by sturdy but still supple leather shoes. Most of the guards bowed as Vallios passed, acknowledging his new station without thought. However some of the older, grizzled veterans watched Vallios pass with marked distrust.

They could still remember the Baarskor raid that had brought Vallios into the city. At twelve years of age Vallios had been one of the barbarians leading the charge, mounted like his brethren astride a massive bear with fur whiter than the coldest snow, riding in perfect formation beside the War-chieftain of the Northern Tribes. The vision of thousands upon thousands of barbarians pouring down from between the Bleak Fangs into the Everend valley was fresh in their minds. A howling, savage flood of flesh that had threatened to drown the entire kingdom in a river of blood. Townships and hamlets had been razed to the ground without a single warrior breaking charge, a relentless push fueled by inhuman rage with the Baarskor, Bearhearts at the front of the tide. The siege had lasted for months, and ended when the Ruling Council created the Frozen River treaties, halting any attempts to expand their nation's borders into the unforgiving frozen North.


But how had Vallios ended up staying in the city? The answer was one of mercy. Vallios had been part of the raiding party that broke through the Imperial City's fortifications. House Ahn'kir's army had been the first to fight within the city and had been nearly overwhelmed by the Baarskor tribe. Fortunately for House Ahn'kir and it's Weapons Master reinforcements from the other Ruling Houses arrived and the Baarskor tribe was laid low to a man.

Vallios had been the last warrior of his tribe and had managed to keep the Weapons Master himself engaged in mortal combat despite his age. Instead of delivering the killing blow Vis'karr had knocked the young boy unconscious, seeing a potential protege. A prisoner of war, with no family or friends alive Vallios had sworn his fealty to the man who had bested him in honorable combat. For sixteen years now Vallios had served house Ahn'kir faithfully and without resentment. Though he kept the memory of his people alive at every opportunity.

Given his current speed and direction, Vallios was pretty much guaranteed to run straight across Beatrix's path. And that would be a most....Unpleasant surprise. Vallios absolutely loathed being caught alone with the woman.

 

[sorchasilver]

Beatrix had counted on the promptness of the Weapons Master and was not disappointed when she heard the familiar creak of leather that preceded him up the hall. For such a large man his was uncannily quiet on his feet. She stepped into the hall and raised a hand to stall him. She could not keep the tiny frown of distaste at his usual attire from her face. “We must discuss Elizabeth’s training.” She stated planting herself in front of him. “The girl is becoming insufferably soft and undisciplined.” One thing she admired about the Northerner was his ability to train the youths of the Ahn’kir family but he had not yet been required to train a Matriarch and worse still there was a second formality to be addressed. She decided today was not the day to bring up that delicate point. “Under your tutelage I suspect she may learn some hard new lessons. A few bruises on her bottom wouldn’t hurt her at all.” Personally she though the child needed more than a few to set her straight.

She eyed the Weapon Master critically; even his appearance might have an effect on the young lady. To most he could most certainly be considered intimidating. Unfortunately Elizabeth was more likely to see him as uncivilized. “She will be passed over to you to train starting today. I have done all I can with her regarding running the family. The last part of her training is with you.” She turned to leave and paused. “I truly hope you can make her the leader this family requires. I do not plan to run this household much longer and once she turns 20…” She trailed off with her usual frown. “Well I don’t suppose I need to discuss that at the moment. Fair well Master Vallios. Oh and good luck.” With that said she turned and left him standing there giving him no time to argue. On her way down the hall she sent a small prayer to the gods that the two of them did not kill one another before the training was complete.

 

[UltraMechaStalin]

"Foolish woman. She doesn't realize that all Southern-bloods are soft."

While Vallios fought loyally for House Ahn'kir, he hated the people of the city with a burning passion. Cowardly and deceitful, they had all been softened by their easy life in this plentiful land. Every now and again Vallios entertained fantasies of knocking Beatrix unconscious and leaving her stranded in the northern tundra with nothing but a belt knife. Sadly such thoughts were nothing more than wishes, and Vallios knew he had better get this over with. Without knocking or announcing his coming Vallios stepped into the sitting room, swinging the heavy oak door shut behind him. As for bruises, Elizabeth was sure to earn plenty during her training. The girl was going to start out just like any other fresh faced recruit in public lessons. He would not waste his time on private instructions with the girl until she could swing a sword with something besides hopeless abandon. That would certainly knock her down a few pegs, spending a couple of hours a day as a lowly commoner amongst the rabble. Oh by the gods how he would rather be any place other than here! For sixteen years he had watched Beatrix grow up, for sixteen years he had been told that a day would come when he would take Vis'karr's position as Weapons Master, as the Fist of Ahn'kir and Shield of the Matron. Why had they waited for so long to begin her training? Baarskor children began learning the forms before they began to write!

"I've been informed that today you start the real learning. Your aunt has more important things to do than baby sit you, so I guess it's my turn now."

Vallios saw so very little of Matron Ahn'kir in Elizabeth. The Matron had been a woman of strength and poise, a woman who should have been queen. Unmatched by any other than the Weapons Master with her rapier and equally deft at negotiations of any form, the woman had apparently led house Ahn'kir from rags as a minor Borderwatch house to one of the most influential of the nine ruling houses. Pacing was Vallios' response to this situation, he moved back and forth across the small floor of the room as he thought of what else to say. Hopefully the assassination was still fresh in Elizabeth's mind. She'd been present when the assassins had attacked, she'd seen how easily the guards had been dispatched and seen her father and mother drag their assassins with them to the afterlife. She'd also witnessed Vallios hold his own against three of the nine men involved in the assault, fighting with the ferocity of a cornered animal and emerging unscathed and soaked in the blood of his foes. Surely she understood the gravity of the situation and understood just how much ground they had to cover in such a short period of time!

 

[sorchasilver]

Elizabeth was violently pulled from her thoughts when the door to the sitting room opened and banged shut behind the Weapons Master. Before she could open her mouth at the outrage of being rudely interrupted he very eloquently told her he would now be her instructor as her aunt had more important matters to attend to.

She snapped her mouth shut and regarded the man silently. She could not stop the small sliver of fear that crept up her spine every time she laid eyes on him though she would be damned if she let that show. The man was clearly uncivilized with his wild appearance and lack of manners. She graceful got to her feet her chin high. “I am prepared for any training required to fulfil my duties to this family.” The image of her mother, broken and bloody on floor flashed through her mind swiftly followed by that of the men her parents had killed during the fight.

She watched Vallios pace about the room and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I want be stronger than my mother. I want to protect this family and the people I care about.” This was a little uncharacteristic for Elizabeth; she was not known for being sentimental or motivated in any way. After another moment she curtsied and bowed to Vallios. “Please Master Vallios…please make strong.”

 

[UltraMechaStalin]

"I cannot make you strong anymore than a smith can toughen glass. I can only put you to the forge and shape you, but you will have to show your strength."


That was another thing Vallios simply did not understand about Southern-bloods. They treated their women as if they were frail and prone to shattering, teaching them nothing they needed to know to survive on their own. Vallios stopped his pacing and looked Elizabeth over, trying to see potential in her. At least she had determination, a feature he could not teach. It was so odd to hear her speaking to him in a civil manner, even when she was little the accursed girl had looked down her nose at him as if he was nothing more than a guard dog. The Weapons Master ascendant had mixed views of Elizabeth; his oaths of fealty and determination to honor the man's memory demanded he tolerate the girl regardless of how petty and vindictive she acted, though he resented every little scrap of her personality. Pampered and given the world on a platter, Elizabeth knew nothing of struggle or strife. Part of Vallios secretly looked forward to breaking the girl in and teaching her some harsh lessons about the world. These lessons would be a crucible for Elizabeth and a harsh wake-up call, no punches would be pulled during training. She would learn humility and discretion, when to press an advantage and when to fall back. She would learn how to direct a battle, how to forge a blade, how to rally troops and how to break sieges.

"I would suggest speaking with your seamstress and having her stitch you a skirt acceptable for battle. You will have difficulties learning the forms tripping over the hem of a court gown."

Yet another thing Vallios hated about their culture; the ridiculous attire they donned. Most of it did nothing but inhibit movement and hide flaws, rather than emphasizing what was important and providing warmth. The concept of trying to move around so restricted by pointless fabric absolutely baffled Vallios. What was more baffling was the two-faced hypocrisy of politics. Power flowed along blood-lines rather than moving to those fit to lead. Among the Northen Tribes anybody could challenge a War-chieftain's position, though such challenge was met in the Ring of Sorrows as a battle to the death. Such actions were rare however, as the tribesmen understood that any unnecessary death only weakened the clans. There was little room for greed in the frozen North, survival required both cooperation and self-preservation, two schools of thought that often ran in opposite directions.

 

[sorchasilver]

His words struck a chord in her, he would teach her but her strength would come from within. When she pictured strength she pictured her mother, the woman had been a powerful leader of the Ahn’kir but she had little time for teaching her daughters. That was left to other women in the family and nannies. Elizabeth often wondered if she would have turned out different had she spent more time with her mother. Elizabeth was well aware of what others thought of her. She used her abrasive personality to keep most people at bay. In her entire 19 years she had not really formed a bond with anyone. Her interactions were restricted to instructors, professionals and servants of the house. She was pulled from her thoughts by a comment from Vallios regarding clothing.

She eyed his attire with a thoughtful expression. “If I may ask a question,” She did not wait for his agreement. “Would any form of skirt truly benefit me at all…would it not be more efficient for me to wear what all new trainees wear?” She indicated his breeches. “It seems that I would have much better range of motion if I wore a pair of breeches.” She knew that it was completely a completely inappropriate question. Even her mother wore a specially designed skirt during training. She was tired of sticking to traditions and her family had many. Her head was filled to the brim with them thanks to her aunt’s repetitive lessons. “I am willing to wear the same uniform as all new recruits.” She stated in a serious tone.

 

[UltraMechaStalin]

"That is the thinking of a leader."

Color Vallios a hundred shades of surprised, the girl was speaking sense. What was next, Ursur the bear-spirit returning to the world? Was Elizabeth actually...starting to see sense and reason?! It was hard to keep some kind of hope from dawning in Vallios' mind. She was willing to dress the part of a recruit, but would she study along side them? Would she spar with them with no expectation of special treatment? Vallios strode over to the window and looked out at the peaks of the northern mountain range. Even in spring the mountains were blanketed in white snow. The caribou were numerous on the tundra this time of year, and wolfsong filled the nights. Deep down Vallios' heart longed for the North, to stride across the tundra and feel the crunch of permafrost beneath his boots.

"Take well to the lessons and I will show you my hunting grounds. Have you ever heard Wolfsong beneath a full moon?

Every few moons Vallios vanished into the solitude of the wilds to hunt and remember the thrill of survival. Each trip lasted roughly a week, and nobody knew exactly where Vallios went though the furs and hides he came back with were the talk of the land. A few hunters had tried to tail Vallios before, though they'd found their efforts defeated by the blustering fury of the Bleak Fangs, unable to keep up with the pace at which Vallios moved through the snow seemingly impervious to the chill. It was fortunate that the hunters gave up their pursuit, the Northern Tribes did not take well to outsiders in their land. When Vallios came hunting he was received as an honored guest, the dead returned temporarily to life. Most cultures would brand Vallios a traitor, but his "uncivilized" brethren understood the honor-debt Vallios owed to house Ahn'kir. They knew he came back to his homeland to remember the heart of the wild, knew that no Son of the Frost could leave the tundra behind forever.

 

[sorchasilver]

His words completely took Elizabeth by surprise. She had expected something…rude perhaps. That was not a particularly fair assumption and she felt a little guilty about even thinking it. She gave him a warm smile. Normally when Elizabeth smiled it was a forced thing required by manners and her position but this was a genuine heartfelt smile. It made her look like a different woman. “I would be honoured to see your hunting grounds. Wolfsong sounds like it would be majestic when heard under a full moon.” She paused for a moment. “But I do not want any special treatment; I do not want the other trainees to believe I am soft.” Her eyes dropped to the floor. “Even if it is true to start with.” The words were barely a murmur.

She gave herself a shake and pulled her attention back to her new instructor. “When do you expect me to report for lessons?” Elizabeth asked, abruptly changing the subject. She hoped it wasn’t too early she was a terrible morning person. Considering how early she often heard the young men training outside she knew she wasn’t going to like the answer.

 

[UltraMechaStalin]

"All of you Southern-bloods are soft. It took two nations to keep my people from burning this city to the ground. "

It was hard to mask the contempt in Vallios' voice. War allies had been required to break the barbarian siege and free the entrenched city enough for peace talks to begin. Vallios let out a quiet sigh and turned to face Elizabeth, deciding he should add to his previous statement a little. House Ahn'kir was the only house Vallios had any respect for, he held open disdain and hatred for the rest of the city. House Ahn'kir was made of a more solid stock than the rest, that much was certain. After all, they had been the only ones with the courage to meet the Baarskor charge head on. Vallios' eyes then lingered down to the tattoo on his right arm, a jagged silhouette of a roaring bear's head in black and crimson ink. It was the brand of his tribe and something Vallios displayed with fierce pride. On the other arm he wore house Ahn'kir's sigil, a spear shattered across a large rounded shield. As for special treatment...Vallios would never even humor the idea. If anything, Elizabeth would get especially rough treatment to compensate for years of swaddling.

"Though those of Ahn'kir blood are the least soft. They were the only ones with enough courage to meet my people and our war-bears head on. As for your training, do not worry about being spared any difficulty. You will be held to the highest standard of any pupil I have ever taught. Your training begins tomorrow in the forges. You will not hold a weapon until you can craft one."

Some hammer-work would show Elizabeth what true fatigue was. Between the heat of the forge and the meticulous, repetitive strokes of a heavy hammer Elizabeth would come to understand the value of steel and a portion of the cost of bloodshed. One could not properly wield a blade without first respecting it, and one could not respect a blade without making one first. Besides there was a certain satisfaction in wielding something you'd made yourself. Vallios expected Elizabeth to not only learn to understand combat, but to embrace it's every facet. Vallios wanted to shape Elizabeth into a woman that his own tribe would respect, a woman his brethren would allow to pass through the borders untroubled. If Vallios had his way there would be trade and relations with the North, and the Wolfsong would be heard not just on the tundra but in the valleys as well.

(Sorry it's short. Something just ruined my day and sapped my creative energy.)

 

[sorchasilver]

Elizabeth had not been aware the training in the forge was required but she would not argue with the man even if she did not agree with his sentiments. Instead she curtsied again. “Until tomorrow than Master Vallios.” She turned and exited the room deep in thought. He had given her much to think about in regards to her future and she wanted time to think about it. She also needed to see the house seamstress about her clothing.

She made her way through the large mansion and out onto the grounds. The Ahn’kir household could be considered a small town. Within their grounds tradespeople had small homes, the household military had their own quarters there was even a social hall. She walked across the grounds enjoy her reprieve from lessons and the sun shining down on her. Normally her aunt kept her confined all day studying even half a day of freedom was enough to make her smile.

The sound of the weaving looms drifted out of the long wooden building that housed the seamstress and her helpers. Elizabeth rarely interacted with this seamstress as she had her own personal one that specialized in fashionable court clothing. Her own seamstress would be horrified at the idea of Elizabeth in breeches and tunics and would put up a huge fuss. The woman would probably run straight to her aunt who would certainly put her foot down about the issue and until Elizabeth took over she was required to obey.

She pushed open the door and a short friendly looking lady bustled out of the back room. The woman was short and plump with her graying hair held up in a messy bun. Strands of hair fell about her smiling face and she brushed them aside idly as Elizabeth entered. “Ah Lady Ahn’kir!” The woman gave a hasty curtsy. “I am sorry I was not expecting a lady from the house to visit.” She patted her hair and smoothed her work apron self-consciously. “How may I serve you today?”

Elizabeth gave the woman a friendly smile but she wondered why the seamstress seemed so flustered by her presence. Was she really that intimidating to members of the household. “Ah Madam Seamstress, I require some uniforms for my weapons training with Master Vallios.”

The plump woman took on a wary expression. “And why of you come to me? Could your personal seamstress not design some appropriate skirts for you?”

Elizabeth cleared her throat delicately. “Actually I was hoping for one of the new recruits uniforms Madam.” She indicated one that was currently hanging from a sewing dummy and pinned for tailoring. “Master Vallios agrees they will be much more efficient to fighting than skirts of any kind.”

The seamstress faced turned to one of shock. “Lady Ahn’kir…I…I couldn’t possibly…I mean Matron she would…” The woman floundered for the right words to tell her no. “It’s just so indecent!” She finally cried. “Showing off your all of your legs like that not to mention your bottom!” She waved a hand at Elizabeth’s curvy form. “I couldn’t possibly allow a lady to dress like that!” The seamstress was now red in the face either with embarrassment or from anger Elizabeth couldn’t say.

The young woman waited patiently for the seamstress to talk herself out. When she subsided Elizabeth gave her another kind smile. “I understand your concern, but I intend to where it one way or another. I will handle my aunt you have my word.” She regarded the uniform on the stand thoughtfully. “If you are so very concerned with parts of my anatomy showing why don’t we add a short tight skirt from here to here?” She indicated the waist of the breeches to a point about mid-thigh. She was willing tom comprise if the seamstress was so worked up about it.

After careful consideration the seamstress reluctantly agreed. The next hour was spent measuring and sizing Elizabeth for her new garments. Elizabeth made one final request before she left. She picked up the piece of fabric that was to make the skirt of the uniform. “Seamstress, could you put something in between two layers of fabric to reinforce it? Heavy leather perhaps?”

The woman regarded it for a moment. “Yes I believe I could my Lady.” She answered with a knowing smile. “The men all wear an item of protection, it would seem reasonable that woman should as well. I will take care of it.” Elizabeth nodded and exited the shop, with a smile she unhurriedly returned to the mansion and her personal quarters.

 

[UltraMechaStalin]

Once again Vallios was in the forges, working through thoughts with hammer and apron. The slow, repetitive actions helped Vallios work through his cumbersome thoughts. The conversation with Elizabeth had gone much better than he had anticipated. Vallios had expected Elizabeth to be her usual obstinate, moody and arrogant self. The girl had showed some kind of promise and sense. Perhaps the reality of the assassination was finally sinking in to her stubborn skull. Slowly the glowing steel began to take shape, the broad leaf-like edge of a dagger. The steel would be folded and shaped again and again, new layers added to it with every fold. This project would take many nights of forging to perfect, something to keep Vallios' idle hands occupied and his restless mind distracted. So much to be done, so very much to be done! When Vallios deemed the first stages of crafting complete he set the blade to temper and left the forge, deciding to retire for the night. It had been a long day and Vallios was absolutely exhausted, sleep would be welcome company. With marked haste he made his way through Ahn'kir keep to his own quarters outside the training yards. A building the size of a small cottage, furnished with all the makings of home. Vis'karr had commissioned the dwelling built for Vallios so that he could have free access to the yards and some shelter from the initial prejudice he had faced after the treaty was signed.

The previous Weapons Master had been quite the leader, a man who always seemed three steps ahead of the world. Large shoes to fill, but Vallios held no doubts he could fill them in quick enough time. Vallios settled his weapons on their racks and then dressed down, climbing into the heavy fur blankets that covered his bed. After a few moments Vallios was fast asleep and recovering from the stress of the day.

(Sorry for the short post)

 

[sorchasilver]

Elizabeth eyes felt grainy as the sun peeked through her bedroom curtains and assaulted her come the morning. She had stayed up late reading about weapons forging so she wouldn’t be woefully ignorant during the process. She had no idea how much went into making a weapon and each weapon required different techniques. Her head felt stuffed with cotton it was so full of new information and she was sure she wouldn’t remember a thing when she got to the forges.

There was a loud knock at the door that made her groan. “Come.” She called sliding off the bed and into a robe. “Ah Madam Seamstress, you came to deliver these yourself?”

The plump looked as exhausted as she felt. “Yes Lady Elizabeth I wanted to be sure everything fit appropriately. I stayed up until the first set was complete ensuring all the details were as you asked.” She set the bundle down and yawned, she was so tired she didn’t even thing to apologize for any rude manners.

Considering Elizabeth could guess how the woman felt at the moment she merely smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much for these. Could you possibly…help me get them on?” She asked holding up the uniform jacket. The seamstress nodded and together they prepared Elizabeth for her first day at the forges. After the woman left with strict instructions to rest for the remainder of the day Elizabeth admired her new clothes in the mirror.

The breeches were of a supple tan leather that fit quite snuggly, at the top covering her hips and bottom was the specially designed short skirt the seamstress designed. It was actually quite flattering and allowed her to move and stretch as if she weren’t wearing won at all. The leather of that was slightly darker and much heavier. Underneath the jacket she wore a plain cream tunic, the jacket itself was quilted to help lessen the impact of a blow from a training weapon and the front wrapped around to the side where it button diagonally from hip to shoulder. The seamstress had made the coat in the house colours and placed Elizabeth’s personal crest of a rose being pierced by a dagger on the breast. Lastly she pulled on a pair of boots that laced right to the knee. These were much heavier than the delicate court shoes she was used to and simply walking around the room felt like a chore. She dreaded how she would feel after a whole day in them.

Before the seamstress had left she had showed Elizabeth a few important aspects of the clothing. They were sturdy and designed for training. As part of that there were small openings in the lining at the wrists, the hem of the coat and the ankles were weights could be inserted to assist with strength training. Elizabeth had read about this type of training, not many utilized it but her mother had. If a person consistently practiced with the weights when they were removed presumably ones speed would increase. When she had found out about her required weapons training she had decided to apply some of the same training her mother had. After getting the uniform on she thought it best to wait until she became accustomed to the weight of the outfit itself.

Finally dressed and ready to go she exited her personal rooms and made her way to the forges. As she walked she tried to steel herself to whatever harsh punishment the Weapons Master would have in store for her today.

(You don't need to apologize hun. I understand sometimes people have a bad day. Sometimes your just not feeling the writing. No worries. Like I said take all the time you need. ^_^ )

 

[UltraMechaStalin]

Dawn had found Vallios working the forges once more, adding more layers of folded steel to the dagger he'd started the day before. On a work bench beside Vallios a second apron and hammer, a pair of tongs, gloves and several long skinny bars of copper waited for Elizabeth. Copper was easier to melt and shape, more malleable than iron when heated. Today Elizabeth would be making a shield, shields were much easier to craft than blades and were best for novices to learn first. It was incredibly hot inside the forge, sweat already glistening on Vallios' forehead while he worked. It was rare for Vallios to be working on a personal project, most of his time in the forges was spent producing armor and armaments for the Ahn'kir armory, or new training weapons for the training yards. Every now and again Vallios would stop his work to take sips from a mug of tea one of the forgehands had brought him. Vallios almost considered the other smiths to be his friends. A quiet and determined bunch, the smiths judged one only by their ability (or eagerness to learn) to work metal. Things like background or lineage mattered not to them. They actually were the first to embrace those of other cultures, excited to learn of any techniques from foreign lands. Jewelers, weaponsmiths, armorers and blacksmiths all worked without problem in the Ahn'kir forges, provided each craftsman showed respect for the work of others.

Vallios set the dagger into a pool to temper, diverting his attention to some blades that had been left for sharpening. Vallios grabbed three and then settle down at a grindstone. An even, measured foot worked the pedal and the grindstone spun at a steady pace, careful hand applying a blade to the stone. Sparks flew as the weapon was sharpened and given it's edge back. Ahn'kir forgework was built to outlive it's wielder, their son, and grandson. Curiously Vallios looked down the sword's hilt, looking for any marking that indicated a craftsmen or year. The patterns on the blade were reminescent of Lord-Smith Niall's work, which meant the blade was probably approaching two hundred years of age. Two hundred years and it still held together as if it were newly forged, still able to take an edge. Who did this blade belong to? Where had they gotten it?

 

[sorchasilver]

Elizabeth reached the forges and took a deep steadying breath before entering. She knew from the books that the heat would be immense but nothing could truly prepare for the actual experience. As she entered the forge a blast of heat washed over cause her to immediately begin to sweat. It felt like an actual physical weight on her body as she walked over to where Vallios was working silently. She stood quietly waiting for him to acknowledge her presence; in fact she enjoyed the fact that he was currently absorbed in work. It gave her time to observe what he was doing.

As she had read about the process of weapon making she expected to be bored by the procedure but as Vallios worked at sharping a blade Elizabeth found she was surprisingly interested. Eventually she became so absorbed in watching him work that the heat didn’t seem so bad, though she was still sweating profusely from it. Several minutes past without any indication he had seen her so she cleared her throat. “Good Morning Master Vallios. I am reporting for training as you requested.” She stared quietly at him with her uncanny emerald eyes waiting for instructions on the days lessons.

(Guh...sorry about the delay my brain did not want to brain...XD)

 

[UltraMechaStalin]

"Get to work, there are shields to make. I've laid out a manuscript that will teach you how to break down the bronze and cast the mold. I expect twelve molds filled and racked before noon. If you have any questions ask."

The words were matter of fact, Vallios not even looking up from his work. Smithing was something that was done in silence, a time for introspection as one worked. The only sounds in the forge was the staccato ringing of hammer on metal, with the occasional shout to warn of hot metal or unexpected movement. In total thirty smiths were laboring in the Ahn'kir forges, working on weapons, armors, tools, even jewelry. Vallios continued his work, sharpening each edge with meticulous care. The blades were then set aside on Vallios' long, sturdy oak work bench. Light from the forges dancing along the bare steel, each blade awaiting it's wrapping. When one blade was finished Vallios grabbed another, lost in thought as he worked without pause. Fifty blades had been finished this week and thirty of them needed proper grinding and over one hundred blades had been left at the forge for resharpening. There was pride and satisfaction in honing a blade, knowing that it would serve the will of the house. Ahn'kirr forgework was prized by all houses, though Ahn'kirr blades were never sold. Only a few lucky noble houses had weapons made by the Ahn'kirr craftsmen and the blades were treasured heirlooms.

( I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY and inexcusably short post. My brain has been sucking rank ass. )

 

[sorchasilver]

Elizabeth bristled slightly at his tone but bit her tongue she would never achieve people’s respect by being her usual snappy and bitter self especially his. From the small bit of interaction they had so far, she felt like Vallios was gauging her if he thought her too weak like a piece badly tempered metal he would toss her aside.

She bowed her head to him and made her way to the station that he had prepared for her. She spent some time reading over the manuscript before setting to work. She was incredibly grateful for the books she had spent the night reading as his manuscript clarified very little in the way of technical terms. She worked slow and paid close attention to her work, despite being a simple project it was hard labour that she was not used. She kept up a steady pace and managed barely to finish the 12 assigned molds by noon. Looking them over the realized immediately that two of them were botched so badly they were entirely useless. Elizabeth was so exhausted from the work that she could barely muster up the energy to care what Vallios would think.

She stood beside her work waiting for him to come over and assign a new project. The excessive heat of the forges was beginning to wear on her and a wave of dizziness washed over her. With a shaking hand she braced herself against the workbench and tried to remain standing up. She would not fail this early in the day.

( Sorry it took so long)