[Training] Never give up, never surrender

Word in the barracks was that a young Loreseeker had had a rough time of it, when Jigano came to offer his services as Healer and training partner a few days later. 'Gutsy,' they’d called the youngster, but… not very good. With everything else that had been going on, Jigano had been too busy to check up on Quanil lately, and that scuttlebutt had left him wincing with guilt. Afterwards, he’d quickly gone to find the new guildmember and make them an offer.

A bit of training, real training, to help prepare the youngest Seeker for the dangers that awaited in the world.

So it was that the Provost awaited their student at the appointed time and place, within the relative peace and safety of the Glade at the edge of the Oasis. Isuma was nearby hunting flinthoppers, though out of sight at the moment, and the guildmaster himself sat upon a large glowstone beside the calm waters, journal in hand and making notes while he waited for his pupil to appear.

They'd been practically vibrating with excitement ever since waking up today. They'd gotten to the appointed place an hour early, they were so excited. The Provost Himself Is Going To Train Me!!! That was all they could think about. It was get to the Oasis early or continue to flit about the VlamVloed like an overexcited Fae, which might have upset Mr. Sunjata and, more worryingly, Miss Haai.

Of course, once they arrived, they couldn't sit still. They thought they'd seen something splash in the pool, and wondered if it was a Dream Fish, so they'd wandered over to try to see if it was, but then something had made noise in the underbrush and they'd gone to investigate that...

So it was that Quanil was perhaps a smidge late, running up to the Provost with a bit of twig and leaf in their hair. "Sorry, sir! Sorry, I was... exploring." They smiled uneasily as they came to a stop all stiff and square-shouldered, the way they'd seen some of the soldiers at the barracks stand when someone important was around.

He didn't mind the waiting, engrossed in his notes as he was, so his smile was warm and genuine when he looked up to see the slightly tussled young Seeker making their way towards him. Coming to an approximation of attention, no less! He didn't grin any wider, though, settling for busying himself at putting away his journal and pencil into the small bag he'd brought, and leaving it to rest atop the rock as he hopped off it.

"You're fine," he attempted to reassure his young friend soothingly. "I'm glad you're out exploring more. And - try to relax, please? You're making me tense just looking at you." He grinned disarmingly as he looked his pupil over, considering their build. "Now that you're here, though, we should consider how to begin your training. Do you have a preferred weapon you'd like to focus on learning? It can be anything; a bow, a staff, a sword... What you choose will determine the type of stances and footwork we'll want to go over, and what type of grip and calluses you'll need to develop."

Quanil did their best to look as relaxed as possible, even slumping a little. If the provost said "relax" they were going to relax as hard as they could!!

But the questions threw them. "Oh, I... hadn't thought about that." They stood up out of their slump (but didn't return to the stiff, square-shouldered stance, either), and considered that, chewing on their lower lip a little. "Well, most of the heroes in the stories have swords, some of them have bows, or even both. But the seasoned explorers in the tales have walking sticks they're good at using, so there's that."

Their brow furrowed, their eyes looking through the ground as they tried to reason through this. "I don't know if there's something I'd naturally be best at, or if there's something suited for me. If the Loreseekers don't have a traditional weapon or defense style... I think the best is hand-to-hand combat because if there's no weapon handy, you can still do something, and it doesn't advertise what you're going to use, the way having a sword on your hip would." They snapped out of that and looked back to the provost to add quickly, "B-but if you don't want to do that, we can do anything else!" They thought over the provided options and chose, "Staff! Staff would be good!"

It would never, ever have occurred to them that provost might not know hand-to-hand combat, because surely the provost knew everything there was to know. Quanil was happy to learn whatever the provost deigned to teach them, but a staff seemed good.

Quanil had learned from the Fae woman the value of surprise, and they knew from their own life experience that no one expected much of them. So to either be weaponless or to have a weapon that didn't seem as 'weapon-y' as others seemed the best to them. Plus if I had a staff, I might have dealt with the Fae's spear better, they thought. Well, had a staff and knew what to do with it.

Quanil was very young and very eager, but Jigano had already learned that planning ahead wasn't one of their strong suits. It was why he was hesitant to encourage them to explore Halo - or risk insulting the Fae - when he wasn't yet sure how they would handle simply living away from their parents for the first time. The lack of forethought in this was another example that strengthened his caution, and as the young Seeker hemmed and hawed the Provost remained calm, letting them talk their way through their thoughts.

"Hand to hand is not as good when your opponents may have weapons or magic," he explained patiently. Holding up a hand, he flexed his fingers and long talons sprouted from the tips of his fingers, a dragon's sharp claws adorning the hand as scales rippled across his knuckles. "It offers little in the way of defense against an Attuned's natural weapons, for instance, and provides no defense if a foe comes at you with a blade." He returned his hand to normal, shaking the tingling sensation of the claws retracting back into nails out distractedly. "That being said, it absolutely has its place, but I'm not well-versed enough to teach it. For that I'd take you to... hmm. Ronin, most likely." The Fallen Star had taught him how to throw a punch, after all. He could probably teach others, if he was coming out if his grief like Remi was.

"Staff, though, is an excellent place to start. Amalia and Melita are the best teachers for it, but I can at least help you get started with the basics. Here." Calling upon his earth and creation magic, he plucked on the shimmering green and bronze strings in his soul to coax out a song of staves. Two sturdy lengths of wood appeared, one in each hand, and he tossed the shorter one lightly to Quanil. "Footwork is the key to all fighting, but especially with a staff you'll find that your balance will make the difference between a successful strike and an unsuccessful one. With a sword you can still cut someone if you're off balance, but with a staff an off-balance strike won't even bruise your opponent. Now, hold it like this..." He demonstrated, gripping his own staff with one hand facing up and the other facing down, a shoulder-width apart.

"I'm going to shift the earth beneath you to try and upset your balance. Work on keeping your balance as you move away from the unstable areas, and get used to the weight of the staff in your hands and how it changes your balance." When Quanil looked ready, Jigano reached out with his earth magic to prod the Glade-rich soil beneath their feet. He went slowly at first, making the ground beneath the young Seeker's left foot first sink down a couple inches, then push up in a dull six inch spike that wouldn't cut but could unbalance Quanil if they tried to stay in one place.

Quanil listened to the provost's wise words, nodding along in agreement. They were glad that he had approved of their learning the staff, and even gave them some people to look up for further training.

They watched in amazement as their teacher for today (and provost for life!) created two staves out of nothing and caught the one tossed to them. They looked at their feet as he mentioned footwork, and thought back to how poor a dancer they were. To be fair, very few people have wanted to dance with me. I haven't had much of a chance to learn it.

They mimicked the provost's grip, adjusting a bit so they had the proper width between the hands. They'd expected a quick, simple strike from their teacher, but then Provost Silversmith was far more of an expert at this than they were. If mini-earthquakes were preferable for starting, then that's what they'd do!

When their foot began to sink, Quanil pulled it up and stepped it back, away from the disturbance. Then, instead of going down, it shot up! They windmilled back, weight shifting to the back foot instinctively, and their other foot stumbling back as well. It wasn't the most graceful dodge in the world, nor the most balanced, but they stayed on their feet. Barely.

Quanil caught the staff and Jigano felt a little relief that they had some native coordination to start with. He nodded as they found a comfortable grip, and then began his attack. Admittedly, a very small attack, but an effective one as the young Seeker fought to keep their balance. The important thing was that they didn't fall down, and he nodded in encouragement, giving Quanil a smile. "Good! We're going to do that for half an hour now," he explained, with a hint of a mischievous grin. It was going to be a workout for the young would-be warrior, but they were a tough farm kid and had likely worked far harder during planting and harvest.

As soon as it looked like Quanil had regained their balance he struck out with his magic again, gathering his power in the ground beneath their back foot and raising it in another small mound, even as he smoothed out the first spike. Every time the young Seeker shifted or dodged he would try wait for them to catch their balance (or get up again) before he repeated the attack, sometimes on the back foot and sometimes on the front one, subtly leading them to dodge in first a triangle, then a diamond pattern while holding on to the staff.

HALF AN HOUR?!

And, after that, it was basically "doing my best not to fall on my ass" o'clock for Quanil. Stumble forward, stumble backwards. They caught themselves once by planting the staff on the ground, but that was awkward to manage and still hold it the way the provost had told them.

They did, in fact, fall a few times, but they got back up each time. After the second time, they decided against brushing themselves off; it was kind of pointless. They danced around sudden dirt mounds or holes, did their best not to let go of the staff or fall on their face, at least, and generally try to keep their balance on the constantly-shifting soil beneath them.

At least there's not a landshark here. ...I hope.

In Quanil's defense, they did a good job for a beginner, and Jigano nodded in approval or called out encouragement when they got back up to continue. They weren't going to master the footwork in a single training montage set to peppy rock ballad, but they were at least getting the basics down enough to start practicing on their own by the time the thirty minutes were up. The bard grinned as he finally let his young Seeker rest - feeling a little 'sore' himself from the constant exertion of his magic over so constant a time. "Good! You can keep that up between your studies. Try to set aside some time each day to practice moving with the staff in those patterns you were just doing."

He called upon his magic again, this time to bring a pillar of soft earth up from the ground, roughly his height and perhaps vaguely human shaped if you were into minimalist art. "Next you should learn how to swing the staff. There's some physics involved in how the distance the end travels multiplies the force of impact, but the important thing to note is that you're generally going to want to keep an enemy from getting in too close, so you want to hit them while they still can't reach you. If you slide the staff through your hands so one end is longer, you can use your rear hand to drive the power of your strike while guiding it with your front hand-- like this." He demonstrated a simple strike, shifting his grip on the staff slowly so that Quanil could see and copy him, then striking the mudman solidly on it's 'shoulder.' The staff sunk into the earth halfway down into the 'torso' and he grimaced at it, trying to pull it free with a wet sucking sound as the damp earth near the Oasis resisted.

"Hmm... you'll want to turn your body as you do so, but this isn't ideal for striking against. Not if you want your staff back," he admitted, abandoning his own weapon for the moment. "Here, why don't you try and hit me, and I'll see what I can do to block it," he suggested with a grin, winking at Quanil as he turned to face them and offered himself as a target.

When the earth-dancing died down, Quanil hesitated uneasily, unsure that they weren't about to be ambushed. But the provost seemed to be done, and so they caught their breath gratefully. Patterns? I was doing patterns? But... thinking back on it... yeah, actually, they had been. Provost Silversmith is so amazing that he was teaching me and I didn't even realize it!! Not that they were surprised at their provost's skill or cleverness, of course. They just nodded and agreed to practice.

And then the earth rose up again, and Quanil instinctively danced back, holding the staff out between themselves and the... mudman? For a moment, memories of the Fiat Lux festival came back, but they snapped out of it. The mudman didn't move once it was finished rising to its set height, and they settled down.

And, as at the festival, the provost's calm voice and wise words instilled calm. Quanil resolved to investigate the physics of staff swinging at their earliest convenience, but shelved that to focus on this for now. They followed their teacher's demonstrated shifting of hand position.

...and they tried not to laugh at Provost Silversmith's trouble in retrieving the staff. They were swallowing down the mirth when he put himself forward as a target. "Hit YOU?" they repeated incredulously. But they were sure the provost could take care of himself, especially against someone like themselves. "O-okay."

He'd said something about "turn{ing} your body" during the swing? Quanil had no idea what that was about. They basically used the staff as a very long wooden sword and gave the sort of hacking chop that a child with a toy sword would do, though powered by more grown-up muscles. Quanil couldn't bear to put all their force into a swing against the Head of the Loreseekers' Guild, even knowing it would certainly be blocked or dodged, but they didn't want to give a weak swing either.

He'd been expecting a little more resistance to the idea of hitting him, but Quanil's willingness to try earned a broader grin. The bard wasn't looking to get hit, but he knew that if something went wrong and he did, he could at least Heal himself quickly. That was only in the worst-case scenario, though, and with the way Quanil was gripping the staff he didn't think he'd have to worry about it too hard. "Keep that shoulder-width distance between your hands," he called as his young friend took their stance. "You're choking up on it too much. You won't have much control over the aim that way."

He stepped back so that he'd be just within the arc of their strike, then waited for the chop. With how Quanil was standing and the telegraphing of the maneuver he didn't have to worry about not seeing it coming, at least, and he stood loose, with his hands held up in front of him. As Quanil began their chop he called on his magic and twisted earth and creation together again in a burst of silent melody to manifest a new staff in his waiting hands, one he brought up smoothly in a block to catch the downward strike in the middle of the hardwood he now held.

"Good!" he called encouragingly. "Now try to block while I attack - and watch your feet. Try to remember those patterns we were doing - I'll nudge you if you need it," he said with a chuckle.

"Shoulder width..." they murmured, adjusting.

They shouldn't have been surprised that the provost had blocked it, but they still were. Magic done so quickly, so elegantly!! Just like the provost!

Magic didn't bother Quanil; magic-users who thought they could become gods bothered them. The provost would never be like that, and it was hard not to be impressed when you saw something literally called into being from nothing like that!

They were surprised to hear the encouragement. They'd generally been told "NO!" and told to do it over again before. So they withdrew their staff, murmured, "Shoulder width," again to remind themselves and bounced a little on their toes, a reminder to keep on them, lest their honorable guild master decide to make the earth dance again. "Okay. I'm ready." I think.

He nodded approvingly as they shifted their hands to a more stable grip, and grinned at the strike that Quanil unleashed. It might have been a little wobbly, but it showed promise and he was pleased at the potential they had with the weapon. "Once you've gotten comfortable with the staff we can think about putting a sharp end on it, taking what you've learned and expanding it to spears or glaives, perhaps, if we can find a teacher for those," he encouraged. "But for the basics, you're doing well for your first day!"

He saw them bounce on their toes and winced a little, but held that back for a later lesson. "Slide your hands back towards the middle, so you're holding the staff like you were at first," the bard explained. "If you're going to block, you want to do so where you and the staff are strongest; trying to block with the long end of it from where you were holding it for the strike will make it easy for me to overpower you, but if you slide your hands back to the middle you can use both your arms and your upper body to block - like I did when you hit." He demonstrated again now that he was holding the staff properly, sliding a foot back as he raised the staff over his head. "Later on we'll learn deflection, but this is a basic block against someone who has a similar strength to you."

Then he shifted again, turning his body sideways to Quanil so the staff crossed his stomach. One hand held it towards the end of the staff at his hip while the other arm was bent so that the staff rested at an angle across his body. He moved slowly, drawing his rear leg up and as he straightened he pulled the staff back over his left shoulder, front hand sliding back along its shaft. Then he stepped forward, bringing the staff down in a smooth motion towards Quanil's head - and hopefully the center of their own weapon - as his left hand slid back to its starting place, a shoulder-width from his back hand. He didn't hit hard, and he would stop an inch above their skull if they failed to block, but he studied how they moved and especially their feet.

Quanil could bask in praise from Provost Silversmith forever, like a lazy cat in a sunbeam. They listened carefully, did everything they were told to, watched avidly. It was a lot of input all at once, and their mind was having trouble keeping up with it all.

They watched the provost take up his stance, eyes flitting to each new motion, to the way he seemed to just... rest into the position almost, like it was how he was meant to be standing. And Quanil was just about to comment on that when the strike came.

They raised their hands - and the staff in it - almost instinctively, which might've been much more impressive if they hadn't also ducked their head down in the same reflex. Their shoulders were up around their ears like this, so it wasn't terribly heroic looking, but all they'd thought of was not getting bonked on the skull. They also definitely weren't on their toes anymore: they needed their feet full on the ground to provide stability.