"No! Keep your guard up and manage your distance better! *Tak!*" There was this sound coming every time our swords met. Mostly by chance, since the dwarf had a way of finding gaps in my defense and hitting my body.
Holding a weapon and using it to fight someone felt awkward, it demanded to have a level of hand-eye coordination I haven't developed, as well as and instinctual level of awareness. There wasn't much time to think, you just had to react.
Three days now I have been training with Durvak, his way of teaching me fighting was completely different than his art of smithing. He was relentless and gave me no time to breath, we were training for hours and my body was full of bruises and cuts.
Of course I didn't complain, I was the one who asked for this. My opponents wouldn't go easy on me, that I knew for sure, but still I sensed a kind of urgency in him.
Another strike came, a downward slash that I blocked and felt its full weight numb my hand. Each hit felt as if a boulder landed on my blade, easily throwing my off balance and leaving me open to the aftermath.
*Crack!* With a thrust of his wooden sword, he landed a devastating hit on my solar plexus, sending me to the ground in an instant, grasping for air. This is how most our confrontations ended, with me on the ground, eating dirt and Durvak taking a few steps back motioning for me to stand.
"Never loose your footing. That is your lifeline, once you hit the ground you might as well be dead." When we first started, he explained to me this, everything starts from the feet.
The stance I was taught, depended on firm footing. A low center of gravity, knees slightly bent and feet shoulder width apart that would keep me rooted to the ground. That was the way Dwarves fought, they relied on their smaller size and compact physique to become an immovable mass of destruction.
I got back up and readied myself. Our swords weren't the same type, the dwarven smith used a short sword suited to his frame and he had given me a long-sword, similar to the one I had repaired in characteristics.
That meant that my grip was with both hands, firmly grasping the hilt but loose enough so that I could guide my blade where I wanted. He explained to me that each strike had to incorporate the whole body as one. This meant that from the hips, I shifted my weight, anchoring my feet to the grounded as the force reached my arms.
From there I let the blade rotate, using leverage to my advantage to multiply the power of my strike. That was how the long-sword worked. It depended on rolling of the wrists and not just brute force.
*Thud!* My side slash was met head on, by the impenetrable defense of Durvak. With just one hand he managed to block my full force strike, wood chips flew in the air and the wooden swords creaked under the pressure.
The clash made my hands tremble, as the jolt traveled up my arms. It wasn't just his offense that left me with a tingling sensation but his defense as well. Like striking a stone wall.
"Nice laddy! That's some power!" I have managed to land a clean hit that he didn't deflect or brush aside.
I knew better than to let my guard down, with an arc of his own blade Durvak led an attack. My hands were still numb, my sword was pushed back and a strike came from my side. With a single step forward he broke my stance and had me trying to keep my distance.
*Crack!* The blow landed near the hilt of my blade, as I hurriedly raised it to my side, nearly breaking my fingers. Still I had managed to block his counter-attack, at least the first one.
*Thud!* Once more I was sent to the ground.
"How…" I never saw his sword or how I was thrown off balance.
"You still have a lot to learn. My sword isn't my only weapon." Durvak said as he pointed at his feet. It seemed that by closing the distance he had managed to distract me with his strike, using a leg hook, that had me rolling backwards.
"That's it for today, get some rest. And clean yourself, you are full of dirt!" My sweat had mixed with the dirt on the ground and it seemed as if I was covered in mud. I needed a bath.
---
My body ached all over, especially the muscles on my forearms. Mixing smithing and training with the sword had me second guessing if I should have really asked for training. But deep down I knew it was the right choice.
There was this stream, a moments distance from the hall. It poured from a crack in the mountain side, clear like glass and cold to the touch. A place to gather your thoughts and rest in silence, as you clean your body.
"Damn...so cold." Having bathed here a few times, I still wasn't used to the chill. Still it lasted only for a moment before I relaxed and sat by the edge of the stream. The cold water eased the pain of my bruises and cuts away, it felt refreshing.
I had my eyes closed, thinking back to what my teacher had taught me. His instructions and tips throughout our practice sessions, as well as the mistakes I made. My form was a mess, losing my balance often and the grip I had on the sword was weak, often leading to it falling out of my hand.
In smithing too, I had to improve my technique, work on my precision and how I handled each piece. Truth be told I wasn't satisfied with mediocre work, I knew I could do better and I had to if I one today wanted to repay Durvak.
Then there was this trip I was looking forward to, Altharion. From what I had gathered after bickering the old dwarf about it, the city was a trade hub, with its port and districts always filled with merchants and all kinds of people, good and bad.
Of course the city was a weeks travel from where we where located, so we would have to cross Durugath, the forest I woke up into. The scene of the bear chasing me came to mind, would the beast still be wandering in those woods I wandered.
"Lost in thought are we lad?" Durvak's gruff voice broke me out of my train of thought. I watched him as he joined me in the stream to wash off and relax.
"Yeah...thanks for today. I really appreciate all you are doing for me." And I truly did and do to this day.
The dwarf was his body and threw some water on his face. He too had some tattoos on his body, runic symbols on his back and front, not knowing what they meant and I never got the chance to ask.
"You should stop thanking me and focus more on those lousy strikes of yours. You hit like a baby! Haha! At least that last one was something. By Aule's beard I thought you would be rolling around in the dirt all day!" He never missed a chance to call me out on my weaknesses, he laughed and joked about them. I didn't mind him, maybe this was his way of showing he cared.
"Nice...putting salt on the wound." I said as I faked a sulking face, in return I got a slap on the shoulder.
"Are you worried about our trip?" He asked.
"I am, mostly exited but can't help to worry. Those blanks in my memory don't help much." I replied.
This was a vast world and I had to start from somewhere if I wanted to remember. This city and this trip could provide me with some hint of what my next steps should be, I was worried that the journey would yield nothing and my past would remain a mystery.
"Laddy, don't go polishing ore that ain't even been mined yet. You will remember, maybe there is a reason behind all of this, fate is a peculiar mistress." Durvak said as he laid back and closed his eye to relax.
What he meant was that I shouldn't worry with things that haven't happened yet, make scenarios in my head and think ill of the future. Burdening my self with false mishaps and possibilities, what he said held true, maybe a change of perspective was in order.
"Fate huh...guess you are right. So about Altharion, anything important I should know?" Fate was indeed peculiar and no one truly understood her workings. I changed the subject to our trip.
"There are a few things…" He replied.
The city was ruled by a council of three, the steward, Eldarion Telumehtar. The Lord of Altharion, an elf of old who has ties to Gil-gald's court, another lord of the Elves. He is told to be calm and detached from the world, believing in the preservation of Elven order.
"He seems nice." I said.
"Don't know lad, those in power always hide something." The old dwarf replied, apparently he had suspicions of his true nature.
Next was the representative of the guilds, miners and builds who laid the foundations upon the city was build. Master Brogar Stonehand, a dwarf from Ered Luin, some would consider him the voice of the people in Altharion, maybe even the true lord.
"I don't understand, the people seem to like Brogar more than Eldarion so how come he isn't the Lord." It was a genuine question, for the people to follow him meant that he truly cared for them, so what was the deal here.
"Hah! Elf politcs, that is happening here lad. They would never allow a dwarf to rule in these lands." This was a sensitive topic, the Elves and the Dwarves, there seemed to be some short of grievance between these two races.
And at last a Numenorean envoy, of an island nation far away. The woman Andardis Taracale, with her radiant personality and strong character, orchistrized the trade and sea routes. She oversees the port part of the city and is a brilliant diplomat.
"So a human at last, thought I would be the only one." At least on this side of the world I thought, most of the humans where east, over the Blue Mountains.
"Not any human, a Numenorean. Proud sea folk, long lived and strong." There seemed to be a difference, but I wouldn't understand until I met one in person.
This was Altharion, The Port Of Change, as they called it. A hub of different cultures and races, that clashed and fought for which would prevail. I grew hopeful, I would find the answers I was looking for there.
I too closed my eyes once again and let myself relax, letting the stream wash away my worries.