Fanfic:Pick Up the Targe
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"Pick up the targe, Kain." A gruff old man barked, frustrated at having to train some new associate of his master. "Pick one up before I bash your head in!"
The man speaking was a former soldier, dressed in a plain brown uniform, with a shield in his left hand, and a practice sword in the other. From his stance, it was obvious he was a trained fighter. There was no way the wiry white hair and shaggy white beard would hide the look of a warrior.
Obeying the command, Kain picks one up, and slides his arm through the strap, and grabbing the handle at the end. Awkwardly, he tightens the straps on the forearm.
The man's very stance shouted experience! With a long wooden sword in one hand, and a targe on his left; the straps snug around the older man's wrist, and his hand gripping the handle for control.
"Keep your arm loose, boy!" The older man shouted, causing the younger, unarmed warrior to hold a matching targe forward, yet with a loose arm. "By keeping your arm so tense, you would not last long in a battle! The arm would be nearly useless after a few hits."
Kain simply nodded in acceptance, appreciating the advice. The last thing he needed was learning such a difficult lesson in the midst of battle. From the older man's stance, it was obvious that Kain held the wrong positing, so wishing to correct that mistake, Kain held the shield forward, with the end of the arm pointing at his opponents left shoulder. His left foot was slightly ahead of his right, which was hanging behind.
His right arm was held to the side, with his hand clenched in a fist. The old man seemed to favor training men using a shield only, often stating that the instinct is best placed with focus completely on the shield.
The moment Kain slipped into proper position, the old man quickly stepped forward, and stuck at Kain. In panic, Kain brought the shield forward, covering his chest. The effort was useless though, for the blade had a strong enough force that it pushed the shield down, and quickly thrust at Kain's throat, stopping just in the nick of time.
"Dead." The old man spat rudely, "Deflect the blade, and don't just block it you idiot! Push it away!"
Some would perhaps become angry at the old man's way of teaching, but Kain had a sharp enough mind to forgive him. He had a feeling that the old man thought he wasted his talents once to many on a student who died uselessly in battle.
Kain saw the man quickstep backwards, yet he was not ready for the strike. As quickly as he retreated, he came forward again, with a similar strike. Moving the shield forward, Kain caught the blade, and moved it to the side enough to avoid a killing blow.
Yet even as the obvious attack was deflected, barely, Kain found that the old man had another weapon; the shield. Using the hard edge of the targe, the old man hit Kain's head, easily taking him out of the exchange.
What he would find out an hour later, though, when waking up on the cold, damp ground was that when his shield was to the side, in mid deflection, the old man's shield had split his scalp with a solid hit.
With blood still in his hair, and dirt on his clothes, he was rudely ordered to slip back into position.
It was not a lesson he would need to learn again.
It was a week of the same, dreadful training. From rude comments, to degrading beatings, yet eventually Kain learned enough to survive.
For the first effort of the day, the old man used a favored technique. He quickstepped forward, aiming for Kain's head. Stepping forward as well, Kain guided the weapon harmlessly to the side. Yet before the older man could bash him with the shield, Kain grabbed the edge of it with his free hand, holding it, as he raised his left foot and kicked the man right in the hip.
Knowing he won the exchange, Kain stepped back, and got out of range. He knew the older man must have been feeling some pain due to the hit, yet he was not surprised when he heard the familiar bark of "Again, boy!"
As the old man quickstepped forward again, slightly slower due to the injury, Kain noticed the new angle of the sword. He was fairly familiar with the slash, recalling that it was called Arc of the Moon.
Kain knew the old man was aware that this would not work, so Kain deflected the weapon, and stepped along with the movement. If he allowed the blade to move freely, it would be simply another opportunity to end the session. So as the sword flowed away, Kain followed with his shielded arm. Letting go of the handle, he grabs onto the wrist, and stops the weapons flow.
Instead of stopping the shield with his free hand, he places his palm on the old man's chest, as he moved his right leg behind the trainers own.
Before the shield was able to bash him, he pushed, and down went the old man.
After a few moments, when he regained his breath, he said in a tired voice; "That should be enough for today, Kain. You did fine."
In response, Kain extended his hand, and helped his trainer rise. Tonight, a round of drinks would go around the local tavern in respect to the elderly trainer.
