The dew made the grass slippery on this morning, but Lifden had more minute things to focus on. His father, Jekiel was training him, preparing him, getting him in the right mindset. They had been circling each other for almost half of an hour and neither had managed to land an actual attack on the other with their practice wooden swords. Both fighters took turns bobbing and weaving, baiting and switching, but neither had given up enough room to be exploited. Combat, if nothing else, was a waiting game for these two.
His father spun as the son rolled. Rolling, of course, made you lose sight of your opponent for just a moment and the father utilized it to successfully dodge the attack. "Impressive" he hailed, "but not quite enough."
His father jumped over his outstretched leg before being tackled by Lifden. They both collided with the ground as the father pulled his son with him, quickly springing back up and readying his sword. "Not bad for an old man, eh?"
His father mirrored his stance and every move. After all, he had taught the boy all of them. Their swords clanged as they collided in the middle, narrowly parrying each other's attacks. "Fencing... my favourite" said the father as he lowered himself, barely dodging a thrust from Lifden's blade.
The older man parried the first three before settling into a stance on the fourth, totally caught off guard by the fourth attack. Lifden's attack lands on his father's side, and to the older man's dismay, he has to accept his defeat, "Well done. A risky move, but one that was rewarded. Do be careful when you try that again."
"I have something in mind. I hope you know that I've always been honest with you, but there's one thing that I haven't told you about. I think it's about time you find out" sternly informed the Father.
The father tried to stir up conversation to settle his son's obvious nerves, "so what is the fundamental concept behind using feigning techniques in fighting?"
"Right" proudly affirmed his father, "and the purpose of this is to take away power... to use their own pride against them. To out-smart them at their own game, wouldn't you agree?"
"It is, son. The best victories are ones that the opponent causes to themselves. Not only have you won that battle, but you have also won the war by making them lose spirit. That, my son, is the objective of feigning. Turn your opponent's strengths into weaknesses and strike for the victory."
He continued, "for example, my strength over you was that you were very predictable, because I taught you all that you know. However, you understood that strength and negated it by following with a fourth attack, catching me off-guard. That is the true mark of a brilliant fighter."
The father didn't reply as he took a few more steps and stopped in front of a modestly sized place witha red and black door. "We're here" he said as he pushed the door open. Lifden followed and noticed a decent amount of people, sitting around a table eating fruits and drinking wine. They were all older men, with the exception of a single young girl, probably not a year older than Lifden, who was startled by their entrance. Though their apparel was different, all of them were dressed in red and black.
The father made his rounds, shaking hands and greeting everyone, "this is Lifden, as I'm sure you've all gathered by now."
The young girl stood to shake his hand and the rest filed in behind her. She was tall and blonde, wearing a sleek black dress and a red shawl over her shoulders. Her skin was pale but her expression was warm, "I'm Paladria. Nice to meet you, Lifden."
She nodded her head and walked past him, briefly stopping next to his ear and whispering, "you'd be pretty cute if you weren't so nervous." Lifden couldn't respond before a short, stout man about his father's age took his hand and shook it vigorously, "and I'm Lobrenof. It's good to meet you finally."
His father interrupted the queue, "alright, let's give him some room to breathe here."
He turned to Lifden, "I suppose you'd like to know what this is, wouldn't you?"
The father explained, "Well for almost a decade I've been part of a... project. You see, we're all growing rather annoyed by the strength of the Immortalis. Not only do they control our military, but they also control the economy and even how we are educated. We are convinced that they hold a great deal of information back from us, and we are devoted to finding that out... upsetting the order, if you will."
"No so much a coup..." his father explained, "...but a way to challenge how people think. As for why I recruited you, what is the purpose of our fighting style, Lifden?"
"Before I tell you about our goals, I must tell you why you're here specifically. Almost 30 years ago, the men you see here devised a plan to find more information about our past out. We broke into the Immortalis archives and found out about an indigenous people that lived here long before we settled it. The information spread quickly and had people knocking on the doors of the church, demanding answers. Soon enough, the powerful Immortalis snuffed any discussion of what we had found and nobody spoke of it again for fear of imprisonment. Now, we want to strike again, but this time at the very source of their power; their ability to live forever."
He carefully studied his son as he spoke, "the problem is that we are far too old to be sneaking around and upsetting order. We need fresh blood to keep our guild alive, and we hope that you will join Paladria in establishing the next generation of us."
The father looked at his older brethren, "How about we let the youngsters discuss things amongst themselves. I know we all think we know how to do it, but the whole point of finding successors is to find fresh and innovative ideas."
With a grumble, everyone left except for Paladria who was standing near a pot of soup, stirring it slowly.
She dished a bowl of soup before offering one to Lifden, "What's there to tell? I'm an orphan and I hate order. Darkness excites me and I always think someone has it in for me. Oh, and I've never really met anyone who I've actually befriended before I joined the guild. There's a few other things about me that you'll find out about soon enough. Sorry that there's not more to tell you."
There was an awkward silence as Paladria moved to the table, slurping her soup noisily. She looked up at Lifden, slightly intrigued by his potential, "So, Lifden... What is it you want to know? There's a lot of things I need to show you, so your wish is my command."
"You are correct. There's a few rooms to stay and a big library in the back... follow me." She took off her shawl and placed it on the back of a chair, revealing a small balck tattoo of a wing on her shoulder. She looked back, smiling warmly as she did so and walked ahead, toward a small wooden door. Lifden couldn't help but watch the girl's hips sway elegantly in her dress and wondered just how she ended up with the guild.
She was clearly caught off guard that his first question was a personal one, "I came here once asking for food. I never had much money when I was a little girl and didn't have a place to call home. They invited me to stay for as long as I needed and as much as my inner instinct told me that I shouldn't, I kept coming back here every night. Before I knew it, I was actively engaged with conversation with them. It was refreshing to find people to actually talk to who really didn't demand anything from you. It was the kind of thing people like your father to be more commonplace and believed that altruism would spread once the Immortalis lost some of their power."
Paldria led him down the hallway, taking evaluative glances at him every once and a while. They went down the hall and the girl opened a door to reveal a small room with 6 bunk-beds. She smiled, "it's small but the beds are comfy. Do you want to pick one?"
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[Left Play Designs][Coffeehouse][DeviantArt]
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[Left Play Designs][Coffeehouse][DeviantArt]
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He continued, "for example, my strength over you was that you were very predictable, because I taught you all that you know. However, you understood that strength and negated it by following with a fourth attack, catching me off-guard. That is the true mark of a brilliant fighter."
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The father made his rounds, shaking hands and greeting everyone, "this is Lifden, as I'm sure you've all gathered by now."
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OOC: (you'll find out sooon enough)
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He turned to Lifden, "I suppose you'd like to know what this is, wouldn't you?"
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He carefully studied his son as he spoke, "the problem is that we are far too old to be sneaking around and upsetting order. We need fresh blood to keep our guild alive, and we hope that you will join Paladria in establishing the next generation of us."
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With a grumble, everyone left except for Paladria who was standing near a pot of soup, stirring it slowly.
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[Left Play Designs][Coffeehouse][DeviantArt]
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[Left Play Designs][Coffeehouse][DeviantArt]
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[Left Play Designs][Coffeehouse][DeviantArt]
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[Left Play Designs][Coffeehouse][DeviantArt]
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[Left Play Designs][Coffeehouse][DeviantArt]
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