40 Years of Pointy Sticks Between Them

Summer 2021, Week 5

Wednesday afternoon

New Vic HEMA Academy, Old Towne

Storyteller

The Academy began to fill with its normal crowd of students, taking up their polypropylene arms and going over motions for their discipline, today the longsword division had the grounds to train, practice and spar. The instructor, Spencer Davis, goes over the lesson plan for the day. Today would ideally begin with questions from the students, if any, elaborating on the answers the best way he knew how, and practice going over techniques to make strikes and return quickly to guard. Then they would end the session with sparring sessions.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

He enters in a more relaxed outfit, a slate gray polo with dark blue jeans with white tennis shoes. On his belt he bore his family's heirloom sword in its scabbard, and his own sheathed practice blade on the other side. Hm. How I did not notice this place sooner is beyond me. It is within walking distance of my home!  

Storyteller

Noticing the newcomer enter, he approaches him and introduces himself. "Hello, I am instructor Davis, and you must be one my two new students this afternoon, yes?" He extends his hand for a handshake, a slight but friendly smile resting on his face.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

He introduces himself while taking off one insulated leather glove to meet the instructor's hand for a firm shake "A pleasure to meet you, Sir Davis. I am Sigfried, and I am delighted to join the academy here." He smiles, his thick Austrian accent prevalent in his introduction. "I was worried my sword arm was getting rusty, so I am glad we have a place to practice the Art here."  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

The sound of steel against steel, flesh pushing itself to its limits. and the young hearts and minds mastering a long forgotten art. This was something Cal loved and so rarely got to see outside his private sparing and teachings back home. Why God speaks of nonviolence Cal believed this art was on of the easiest ways to bring one closer to the lord. Slow patients and the art of watching every tiny detail. The calm of battle while a storm raged around you.   Yet today. He wasn't here to enjoy himself, or even teach younglings the =art he long ago mastered. Dressed as casually the father got. A pair of black slacks and a matching deep blue button up to his color. The outline of a thin gambeson underneath. Blade resting on his hip was wooden. He had brought his true sword but it lay in the car. He could not bring himself to wield it today after his failure last week. resting in the back he waited agsint the wall for his turn to step forward.  

Storyteller

As Sigfried made his way to an area to put on his training gambeson, the instructor walks over to Father Cal with the same small smile on his face. "Greetings, sir. You must be Father Cal, if I'm not mistaken. Good to meet you." His greeting is accompanied with a firm handshake, a byproduct of having years of experience handling a blade. "I'm excited to have you here today! Judging from how ready you are, you must have some experience, yes?"  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

Callixtus returned the hand shake with one of his own, equal in strength and grit. He didn't want to come off rude after all. "Please Callixtus, or just cal. There is no need for such pleasantries here, but yes you are correct this is not my first bout in this ring" Cal of course was a master. Having a license to teach the sport both conventionally. and in a purely historical stand point. Resting his hand on the hilt of the large flat blade on his side he gave a soft smile towards the instructor. "But please, I have come to remind myself of all there is. Treat me no different then any other student."  

Storyteller

Instructor Davis' smile widens, giving a single nod of respect. "Of course, Cal, though I also welcome any questions and concerns from all of my students. While we may be practiced in the craft, there is always something new to be learned. Especially with the world being as it is, with Evolved persons becoming more prevalent in it."  

Sigfried Al'Daar

After having put on his practicing gambeson and slid on his insulated leather gloves, he tucks away the heirloom sword away and fixes the training blade's scabbard to be on his left side, a more comfortable draw with his right hand. He begins to practice motions with the sword as he waits for the class to start, his stance unwavering and precise with the skill of a trained duelist.  

Storyteller

"Ah, forgive me. It's just about time to start." He ushers Cal to follow and take a place among the rank and file of the other students and takes a place front and center.  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

Cal left his blade sheathed till it was time to start. Taking place next to the fellows bearing similar large blades to him. Large broad and basterd swords. Some may call them overly heavy and cumbersome. But all his time with a blade. Cal has preferred them. Setting his hands behinds his back he took a slow breath. Trying to ingore the still cracked ribs hidden beneath his clothing. Standing at a near perfect attention.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

Father Cal had taken a spot near where Sigfried stood, who straightened up and stood to attention when the instructor took his place at the front. Standing so attentive stretched the mostly healed burns that run across his shoulder blades, almost making him wince with pain. But he stood resolute despite it.  

Storyteller

"Welcome, students! Today we have a couple of fresh faces, so let's give a warm HEMA welcome to Callixtus and Sigfried!" The class responds with a round of clapping for the newcomers, excited at the prospect of new people to spar with. Little did they know that two experienced individuals graced their presence today.   "Cal, would you like to give us a brief introduction of yourself?" Sir Davis smiles warmly as he looks to Cal and nods.  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

Thankfully, Cal was used to speaking of himself In front of other...That and lying about his real skills. Stepping out of line he spoke up. Staring forward unflinching as he did. Yet still managing to project his voice loud and clear. Seeming to boom out from the rather large preacher. "Of course, I am Callixtuc Summanus the 6th. I have been practicing with a blade for 20 years or so. I am a the newest preacher here in New Victory, Ithank you all for having me here to better train and hone my craft and passion. You may call me Cal. Most do."  

Storyteller

The students applaud to welcome Cal to the fold, some murmuring excitedly among each other for having a distinguished practitioner present. When the applause quiets, Sir Davis nods respectfully, adding "Thank you, Cal, and welcome to the hall! And now Sigfried, would you like to give us a brief introduction about yourself?"  

Sigfried Al'Daar

He applauds with the rest of the class, eyeing the size of the practice blade this Callixtus brought. He is also a practitioner of the broadsword, I see. Fascinating. And he is certainly humble for having practiced the art for twenty years.   When Sig was prompted to speak, he maintains his composure. While he is not as experienced in oratory skill like Cal, he introduces himself with enough clarity despite his thick Austrian accent. "Certainly. I am Sigfried Al'Daar, and I have practiced the art of the Germanic broadsword for roughly twenty years, as well. Outside of my passion for swordplay, I am an archaeologist and the curator of the History of New Victoria museum. I am honored to be here among you as I learn and hone my skills with you."  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

Cal would give a curt nod and a small smile as he clapped. Joining the rest of the class as he was introduced to the other new student. Another man who's blade skill in theory would rival his own. Maybe. Cal stood straight as a statue managing to hold his composure even as every breath was like fire in his lungs. Broken ribs even wrapped did not make breathing easier.  

Storyteller

"And thank you, Sigfried. Maybe if you are able, we can learn a bit of history from you as well. Now, let's start with..."   * * *   The class was mostly practice with different guards, striking and resuming guard after strikes. Simple and basic as a lesson, but fundamentals like this were necessary for the classmates with little experience under their belt. Sir Davis transitions the class to its last segment; sparring practice in pairs. "Let's see what you both are capable of, Cal and Sigfried. It seems you two have a similar amount of years of experience, and I am curious to see what you have in store for us."  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

For most the class. It had been little more then a joke. Cal even in full gear hadn't even broken a sweat. perhaps he was a little out of breath sure. But most people are after getting their chest crushed by wannabe superman. Rolling his neck as they finished the final set of poses. He would give a small nod noticing not only was he having him face the only other one in the class who had close to his exsperanice but was having them spar first...Clearly wanting to fire up the rest of the students with a display of skill. Both hand gripping the hilt of his blade he nodded and walked towards the sparing circle.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

Sigfried was similarly breezing through the lessons with ease. His motions left his shoulders feeling like the wounds were dangerously close to re-opening, but he remains resolute and precise despite their limitations.   Ah, having the fresh blood test their mettle against each other. And no doubt this would inspire the younger generation to work hard. He smiles as he walks and takes his place in the sparring circle, standing straight before bowing respectfully towards his opponent while keeping his gaze fixed upon Cal's eyes. "It is an honor to meet such a distinguished master in combat. I look forward to our duel, Callixtus." As the sparring begins, he adopts a steady Fool's Guard. To the untrained it would look like he wasn't keeping any guard up, but to an experienced swordsman it was a stance that was cautious and ready to begin testing the waters and find a read on the opponent's fighting style.  

Father Cal

Cal would return the soft bow, his eyes going a bit cold as he did. Spotting the guard he gave a evil grin. Leaning back on his good foot he watched carefully . He wasn't a fool he knew what his opponent was waiting for. Of course the poor man wasn't ready for what Cal had in mind. Resting his sword tip towards the ground he waited. He knew to keep his tip out of sight for as long as he could to better hide were his blade was going. Showing his blade tip like he was a fool gambit, but Cal wasn't a fool. He was using a blade that was merely half the weight of his normal one. He knew he would be able to move faster then his enemy would. Closeing the gap between them in but a moment he swiped low feinting into a low attack before sweeping clean across the center mass.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

It was almost as if there was a shift in Cal's attitude, appearing to Sigfried that the man was not what he seems and revealed his true colors with a single facial expression.   Not expecting such a direct approach, he suspects there was a hidden intent behind it, moving to parry the low strike before it switched to the sweep across the middle. There! He swiftly changes the position of the hilt of his practice blade, making a hard vertical block for what could have been a devastating strike to his midsection. Too close. Or perhaps- He steps forward quickly and lowers his shoulder for a body charge while his blade kept Cal's wooden sword to the side. -not close enough!  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

Child's play While a beginner may fall for such a simple trick, Cal was not only a master but one who regular practiced the skills in battle. Leaving him more fluid. Used to adapting on the fly, and his body built from wearing heavy plate armor. Pivoting his weak leg forward he stepped into the mans shoulder. Choking up on his sword grip her pressed towards them both. Using his heavier, more solid blade to push the swords in his advantage against Siegfried. Having stepped into his guard Cal understood there was two actions. Attempt to take Cal to the floor, or step back as quick as he could. Cal expected the later bracing himself for the disengage.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

Truly, Cal is a wily opponent indeed. Using the skill of fluidly changing tactics mid-fight and leaning into the charge was like changing check against Cal to check against Sigfreid.   He grins, the thrill of a proper challenge bringing joy to him as he taps into his German teachings, simultaneously refusing to back down by pushing forward and adjusting his position while keeping his own blade between himself and Cal's. He reaches down with his free arm to pull one of Cal's legs to his chest and pushes with all of his might to knock Cal off balance in a Ringen styled takedown.  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

A surprise, A welcomed surprise sure. But surprised. Sigfried had managed to think of a option Cal didn't think of. Of course it wasn't a surprise Cal couldn't deal with. Dropping his weight instead of fighting it, he let himself fall back keeping a tight grip on his sword, his free hand grabbing the man so he would fall with him. Planning on falling back into a half roll so to get his feet under the man and launch off him. A easy grapple reset...If only hitting the ground didn't instantly nock the wind out of cal. The effect was instant. A heft cough and Cals eyes going white fallowed by a thick wheezing. This didn't stop Cal merely lowered the quickness of his move. Pulling his foot, which his opponent already moved to his chest tight as he rolled back onto this shoulders before launching out like a spring.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

The grapple reset came as little surprise to Sig, and Cal pulls Sigfried off balance as he propels himself backwards off of Sigfried's chest, effectively disengaging to regain his footing. Sigfried rolls to the side after landing to regain his own footing, taking the grip of his sword in two hands into a Wrath Guard as he lunges forward, making his offensive move a powerful wrath strike with swift and terrifying accuracy. The hard look in his eyes would tell Cal that he intends on finishing the duel with a decisive blow.  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

Hoping up to his feet with a smirk call rolled his blade across his wrist before righting his grip. Letting his shoulders sag a small bit, before tightening his stance, blade held back behind him in both hands hiding were he planed on moving it the best he could. His opponent was easy to read, a man of very good training but perhaps had only every used these skills on a matt...Perhaps. Readying himself he kept his stand low and wide ready to move were he was needed. Only to swipe his enemy blade to the side with the flat of his blade. Bending down to push the blade to the ground while flattening out his blade atop his.SO to step forward slashing with a wooden scape up the blade of his opponents. A fluid motion for Cal, anyone could see this was something he had done a thousand times no matter how complicated it may seem.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

In truth, Sigfried's encounter with Clarisse was his second outside of practice grounds, and the first against an Evo opponent. Actual battle experience was something Sigfried lacked, despite his experience with trained duelists across Europe. And that inexperience would prove to be his downfall as Cal's pin left Sigfried no way to defend himself as the wooden blade came up with a SMACK across Sigfried's chest. Cal had won the swordsman's duel this time.   He winces with pain as the blade came into contact with his chest, smiling and realizing that if these were real, he would be dead right now. "Well fought, Callixtus."  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

With a large smile and a deep breath Cal nodded, letting his blade fall to his side before holding out his free hand. He seemed a bit winded as he spoke, a small bit of sweat dripping down his forehead. "I was about to say the same Sigfried, I must say it's been some time since anyone put me on my back. Even if it was only for a second." Cal gave a weak cough into his shoulder doing his best to hide the specks of red that appeared in the already dark fabric. "truly caught me off guard."  

Sigfried Al'Daar

He chuckles before wincing a little with pain; the wounds on his shoulder blades had re-opened slightly during the sparring. He takes off one insulated leather glove and takes Cal's hand in his own for a respectful handshake. The sweat on his own brow beads down his face from the effort made in the duel, his breathing catching up with him.   "I am glad that I am able to keep a veteran on his toes. If you don't mind my curiosity, where did you receive your training? You must have had quite the teacher." His steel grey eyes barely hid his excitement as he spoke and walked outside the sparring circle with Cal as the next duo took their places.  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

Walking side by side with the other man Cal Gave a small chuckle shaking his head. "Italy, I received my training from a old man on the streets of Rome itself." A lie is best told when its biased in the truth. He was taught in Rome, through it wasn't by some random hold man but rather a old master that remained a heavy loyalty to the church and the pope. "He has since pasted otherwise I would be more then happy to introduce you." He quickly made a simple cross across his chest. "But I will be honest experience is the best teacher. You can learn stance and poses all you want but until you are forced to use them and see how they truly feel in the heat of battle You will never be anything but a novices."  

Sigfried Al'Daar

He bows his head slightly at the mention of an old mentor passing and takes the advice about experience to heart, adding "May he rest in peace.. It must have been hard to lose him." He was unsurprised by Cal's gesture, he was a priest after all. But Sigfried made no effort to do the same. He felt god had abandoned him, and all of god's other children. He simply couldn't find solace in that it seemed the people that flourished in this life were people willing to harm others to get what they want. And often times, what they want was much more than what they needed. Histories of wars, bloodshed, cultural erasure and even extinction have all proven to him that if there was in fact a god, it was a cruel and unjust one that allowed predators to thrive rather than a kind and just one.  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

"Yes, I do hope he does. He was a hard man, but a godly one. Someone he let his blade speak more often then his mouth. But you always knew her spoke the truth and hid nothing from the world" He said nothing on the fact Cal was the one to kill him, nor that the man was a goddless heathen who was a traitor to the church, a Evo... Witch taken monster who disgraced all Cal stood for, but then many people were. Cal took his spot against the wall smiling as he watched the younger crowd desperately attempt to wield blades without hurting themselves.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

He chuckles as he watches some of the students trying to replicate the moves of the masters that sparred before them. "I suppose that mantle will now falls to you. Perhaps you will be able to teach these fledgling swordsmen what it takes to master the craft. I know I'd certainly like to hone my skills further, and if you are free sometime I would like to practice with you. If that is all right with you, of course."  

Father Cal

"I... Actually that would be marvelous. Why I am no teacher, You are no novice. Practice between us would teach us both many things. I would greatly enjoy that. I have a small stone garden behind my home that doubles as a small ring. Any day you wish to come spar." Cal was rather taken back by the man. He was, entirely right. Cal was the only piece left of his master, The only one who knew these old teachings. It would only be right for him to take on some students. Perhaps Siegfried would be his first. Coughing softly he turned and gave the man a grin. "I would enjoy that"  

Sigfried Al'Daar

He smiles at the prospect, then he tilts his head slightly, noting that the cough seems present even after some time passed since Cal had finished sparring. "Are you all right? It's not usual for someone to be coughing like that this long after exertion."  

Father Cal

Father above. "Umm Kinda? No need for your concern my freind. I had a small car accdent recently and cracked a few ribs. Through I would ask the same of you, there is blood soaking through your gambison" Cal concern seemed very..Formal distant and matter of fact like.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

Smiling wryly, he looks over his shoulder and quietly curses in German. He lets out a heavy sigh, and admits "Ja, I was recently let out of the hospital after I was accosted near Fortune. A woman that used fire to conjure beasts and whips of flame. If I didn't have my sword, I may not be standing before you this day."  

Father Cal

"Ah. You have my condolances. Know god stays on the side of the rightous, but a strong swordarm never hurts" Cal would give a tenative painfull laugh before riseing to his feet. "Through I must saddly admit defete the pain of breathing is becoming to much.I need to go take some pain killers amd rest."  

Storyteller

The timing couldn't have been better, as the class was brought to a close and everyone was beginning to pack up.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

"If you wish, I can help take a look at your binds. I have a bit of medical experience, and while I don't think I may cure cracked ribs I may be able to help you heal a bit more comfortably at home. Let me gather my things and I'll be right back."   Dummkopf, he likely has it under control. What are you expecting to do, follow this stranger home and fix him there? he berates himself as he walks over to his duffel bag, undoing his practice sword from his hip and ignoring the call of his heirloom blade before returning to the priest.  

Father Cal

Cal waited by the door for his new found friend, having not quiet answered his bizarre question. Of course The good father had no doubt it was made out of the kindness of the strangers heart. Through that didn't make it any less odd. "I do greatly appreciate your offer my friend truly, and as I live in St Peter's Light Cathedral my home is open to all who need it, but I do not need help. I have a Sister who regularly Fixes my bindings." He give a small smile as he opened the door for the man before moving towards his own car. A rather plan grey sedan.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

His face for just a fraction of a second betrays his disappointment, then as soon as it appears it's gone, replaced by a calm smile. "Ah, of course. I suppose it was foolish of me to think otherwise. Forgive me."   As soon as they stepped outside of the academy hall, he heard a cacophony of voices. Multiple languages, dead and actively used, spoke to him in an endless stream of pleas.  

Storyteller

"Save the Shepherd, save the flock."
"Help the father guide his people to salvation."
"Guide the father, help the shepherd."  

Sigfried Al'Daar

The few sentences he focuses on surprise him. Whichever reliquary item the father possesses didn't seem too want to be awakened, it has a different purpose, a different goal that it wants to achieve. Save the shepherd, save the flock? He puzzles over the begging, and ponders why it wants to evidently 'save' Cal.   "My apologies, I must have a bit of a migraine coming on. Thank you, Cal. I shall see you soon, perhaps sometime after we've healed a little more, ja?"  

Father, Callixtus VI Summanus

"Perhaps, To be honest that sounds lovely...Through If you have time tonight. there isn't a service, I would be more then happy to have company. Perhaps a discussion of weaponry over a cup of tea ? I have some lovely British black. As well as a garden I have a feeling you would adore."   OF course the good father never missed a chance to invite someone back to the chapel, a easy way to be able to discuss the lord and there souls without making it weird for those around them. ", Oh.. A migraine, that I understand entirely. You have a wonder day then my friend. Through my offer stands for when you wish to come and discuss things that people have often forgotten."Cal gave a court not and slipped into the driver seat of his car.  

Sigfried Al'Daar

"British black sounds wonderful. But perhaps another time. Thank you for the offer; I'll likely take you up on it sometime soon. Farewell, mein Freund, and I wish you a speedy recovery from your accident." As Cal slips into his car, Sig ponders the source of the myriad of voices that permeate his mind before making his walk, homeward bound.

---

Wednesday early evening

Sigfried Aldaar's Home, Old Towne

Sigfried Al'Daar

Having re-wrapped his wounds from the sheer physical exertion at the academy, he sets out to work on a targeting range to brush up on his archery lessons. Bow hunting and target practice is not an activity he regularly partakes in nowadays, but he still keeps some targets for in case he decides to ever take it back up. Taking up the restored bow in hand, he examines the curvature of the antler handle, the shape of the wood, the plumage that adorned either tip of the bow. It is a remarkable specimen of another time. He softly plucks the bowstring and listens to the hum, accompanied by the voices that call to him to awaken the rolling thunder, to call the light of a great soaring Thunderbird from within. He thinks back to the voices from before, the voices that instead of asking to be awakened, urged him to 'help the shepherd'. Why was that one so different? What object would be so insistent on helping its weilder?   These questions would need to wait for another time; now was the moment of awakening the potential of the bow. He runs his hand across the string, then the stirring within his chest rose up, running into his arm with an almost excited spark. Running his hand from the tip, down the upper limb of the bow to the grip, and past the lower limb and recurve to the lower tip, the bow alighting as his hand passes over, the voices rising in a triumphant cheer.

[Manip.| Reality Manipulation, Minor x1, -1 EP (9/10)]

  The bow now hums with energy, the glow of the transformation fading to reveal a slight transformation to the design, the thick lines and different colors of the painted designs adorning the forward part of the limbs. He turns it over in his hands, listening to the voices tell stories of a deity of the sky asking the Thunderbird for its power, granting him the power of thunder and lightning, even when he had no arrows. Hmph. How convenient.   He stands and gathers his quiver, drawing an arrow and nocking it before taking aim at the wooden target he's made. Drawing upon the power of the bow as he pulls the string to his cheek, his peripheral vision catches an alighting spark running along the arrow shaft. He lets out a breath, and releases the arrow.   BOOM
CRACK

[Manip. (For pool being used)| Power By Object, Minor x1, -1EP (8/10)]

  The arrow was loosed, and the spark became a bolt, consuming the arrow as it arced towards his target. The sheer force of the impact shattered the wooden target into splinters, and the resounding clap of thunder rocks Sigfried to his core. The exhilarating feeling of the power running through his body and the surge of adrenaline from the sudden display of power increased his heart rate dramatically, and he tries to slow his breathing to reclaim his senses. That... was incredible. But perhaps I should be more careful with my.. experiments. He sets the bow aside, ignoring the voices urging him to continue firing the fury of the Thunderbird. He methodically and quickly picks up the shattered remains of splintered timbers that were once a target and disposes of them. I don't want to become a wanted man in the eyes of the public, or my peers.