Dance Along the Edge - Swords Before Words

Night's Edge Monastary: Salle 


 * ''The salle is less a room and more a roofed area attached to the main body of the manor house, the place of training for the weaponmaster and his students. Thick shardwood posts and rafters hold up a baked tile roof, leaving the sides of the space surrounded only by a waist-high wall of the same white sun clay bricks that make up the rest of the manor house. Rolled canvas is tied up on pleasant days, but can be allowed to drop to keep in warmth, in conjunction with the small stove in an out of the way corner, or keep out inclement weather. Within the bounds of the salle, the dirt floor has been carefully raked, a twenty-foot-across circle of fine white powder renewed daily in the open space at the area's center. To one side, several benches are placed to offer a class the ability to see the lesson being taught - or simply shoved against the wall to make more room for a class to work.


 * ''There is a small, enclosed armory, its heavy door of biinwood usually barred and locked against intrusion, the small store of arms available to the residents of the manor kept within. Wooden practice weapons are stored in racks outside, however, available for anyone caring for a casual spar or a quick lesson.


 * ''There are two biinwood doors: one leads off to the east to return to the courtyard, while the other heads north going through the armory to the dining hall.

Stowynne and Varal appear to be engaged in practice spar. She appears to have potentially been working out a little longer, sweating visibly. Or perhaps Varal is simply that much better. Regardless? She's shooting him a sharp grin and closing again, this time a low sweep for legs. "That would depend on who bled out first, would it not?"

Varal grins, the blow hitting the meat of his calf. His jaw tightens and he takes a step back. "True, but the hip is bone, the thigh bleeds if you can get inside. Nice swing, might have crippled me," he notes. "Getting sloppy," he grunts. With the extra space he moves in with a heavy step, swing down at Stowynne's shoulder, but softening the blow enough to make sure he doesn't do any serious harm.

"Damages is something I have to admit..." Stowynne begins and then grunts as her shoulder gets tagged. She jerks back that side and uses the motion to fall in to circling. She rotates her shoulder breifly, "...not familiar with..." She uses more wrist for this strike. It is naturally a bit weaker but she's trying to use her movement as compensation, slipping to side or behind if she can.

Varal easily moves inside the arc of the weapon, chest to chest with Stowynne. He uses the momentum of moving forward to try to push the woman, hooking a leg behind her knee. There's no brutal followthrough on the attack, just an attempt to knock Stowynne on her bum.

Without any weapons, but fully armoured, Milora Lomasa enters the salle from the direction of the courtyard. What she sees appears to shake her somewhat; she stops in the doorway, out of the way, and watches with an uneasy expression on her face.

There are, perhaps, certain reactions that Stowynne has yet to get beyond. Formal training is formal training and hacking trees is hacking trees after all. Varal closes and Stowynne is momentarily, but tellingly, torn between backing up as politeness or decorum would dictate, moving her sword out of the way as an encumberence or attacking. The result leaves her not at her fighting best and it shows. She does not move to attack either with fists or that swords. She simply tries to avoid the take down and get out of the way. She isn't horrible at that, and does twist in such a way that it might have worked. But the reality finds her falling on her backside.

Varal throws the practice sword to the side, then offers Stowynne a hand to help her up. "You're much better than I expected, M'lady. We need to work on your defenses, if anything. You even got through to hitting me, something the wildlings last night couldn't even manage." His eyes flick to the side. "But it appears we have guests." Once he helps Stowynne up (should she accept the help), he turns to bow to Milora. "M'lady Arbiter."

"Oh, don't mind me," Milora says dryly, a bit of bittrness seeping through her tone. "I've only been staying at this place for a week." Heaving a small sigh, she examines the scene before her. "The both of you are quite good, although I would agree with this gentleman in saying that you could do with some defensive training, Lady Seamel."

Stowynne's cheeks are flushed pink for one reason or another. But she's rallied regardless. "...Thank you, Your Grace. I am well aware I've much yet to learn. And I promise, I'll not give the wildlings any lessons." That last marks the transition of her expression to a breif but bright wry smile. She takes his hand, releases it as she stands and dusts herself off. She offers that smile, its sardonic edge exchanged for polite evenness, to Milora and offers her own greeting. "My lady."

Varal quirks an eyebrow. "If they come upon you, M'lady, you damn well better give them a lesson. One they won't forget because they will not be long enough for this world." He turns to Milora, a smirk quirking on his lips. "M'lady Arbiter, are you growing interested in another place to stay, then? Light's Watch is just down the road, and its door are always open. Or, perhaps, you would like to join us?"

"Hello, Lady Seamel," Milora returns with a kind smile, nodding her head mildly in the woman's direction. Varal is addressed with an equal measure of good nature: "I am no bladesman. I had wanted to practice with my staff, but it appears that it has disappeared - too bad. I most likely left it in the woods and I will not return there alone. As to a new place to stay - I have a home, a very nice one at that. I would like to return there, if only I could locate Celeste Mikin and occupy an hour of her time in which to outline the report that I will be filing with the Tribunal with regards to this place. I feel that I owe her that much, as my presence here has made her so uneasy."

Stowynne moves to return her practice sword to its place, picking up Varal's if he has not done the same. She turns back to the conversation, "A lesson implies living to learn it, Your Grace," she inclines her head. "But your point is well and truly taken." Curiousity stays further comment, though her brow raises at some of what Milora says.

"I believe I may have seen your fiancé with the weapon, M'Lady Arbiter," Varal offers simply. "Not my place to say it, but losing a weapon certainly isn't something to be taken lightly. A fine staff like that is quite precious," the Mikin says politely, only the faintest hint of needling at Milora. "I hope your report find everything reasonably satisfactory."

Nodding, the Arbiter gives Varal a little smile. "You're right, it isn't your place to say it," she replies softly. "It will be a shame if I never retrieve it again, but there are other staffs. I am surrounded by reminders of justice every day - and its opposite. The sooner I am away from here, the better it is for everyone."

"I'm sure that Lady Mikin will appreciate your dedication to staying then, my lady." Stowynne notes. She wipes her brow with her hand, smile returned and light, if not slightly reserved.

"If you are anxious to leave, M'lady Arbiter, you can make a copy of your report and I will be sure to get it to the Viscountess without you having to worry about prying eyes. In light of other events, your attentions are probably needed elsewhere. This is certainly a matter that can be postponed, at the very least," Varal reasons.

There's a little chuckle, and a shake of Milora's head. "Normally, Your Lordship, under these circumstances - /yes/. However, a direct audience /must/ be arranged with Celeste Mikin. I am beginning to suspect that she is avoiding me; however, dealing with her secondhand will only cause more misunderstandings. Whatever the case, you are right in that I can not tarry here too long. Please tell her that I must meet with her, Count Mikin, and that I will be returning in some time. In the meanwhile, be so kind as to inform the residents that they are relieved of any further nuisance on my part. Will you?"

Silence as a part of valor. It would seem to be a credo of sorts, and one that Stowynne adopts as she watches the interaction. Her brows remain slightly raised, but she keeps her opinions to herself for the moment.

"I would be honored to pass the message along," Varal answers Milora, bowing his head slightly. "She will be sure to know as soon as possible. For the sake of the realm, good luck in dealing with our current problems, M'lady Arbiter. if I may proffer my opinion on the matter: in my experience, wildlings either come alone or in numbers. The duo that attacked showed at least the beginnings of some tactical understanding. It is a possibility that this was some sort of scouting force that thought it could prey upon a handful of innocents - and was unlucky enough to run into myself and Duke Lomassa. I would suspect there are more attacks to come."

Milora returns the bow of the head, respectfully, and smiles. "I am in no disagreement with you on this matter," she replies evenly. "You were very noble; I am glad that you were not hurt. Good bye, Your Lordship; Lady Seamel." With that, she turns to exit the way she came in.

''Return to Season 6 (2007)