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The early spring sun shone golden upon the blooming green of the mid morning. Birds sang, and there was a soft breeze that whispered secrets in the arms of the trees. All in all, it was a perfect morning. Orien sang softy to herself as she went about her morning tasks, drawing water from the well for the castle’s daily needs, helping Shea make breakfast, and seeing to it that Corbyn actually ate it. She checked in on Slave, who was still as she had been for the better part of the week since her rescue… catatonic. Still, even that did not dampen the spirits of the cheerful elven maid. She had let her cares fall away and was determined to have faith in Corbyn, and thus knew no worries that should weigh upon her. She was peaceful and happy.

Morning passed into early afternoon, and she finally finished her rounds of the village, making sure everyone was healthy and well. Jonathan was still beside himself with the death of his daughter Lana, and Orien knew that only time would heal that wound. She had done as she could, straightening his home and leaving him some bead and cheese, and excused herself with a comforting smile. Everyone else seemed to be fairing well enough, and so she finally felt that she could grant herself some time to attend to something she had wanted for herself. That thought in mind, she made her way to the Inn.

Usually, Gabriel was at her side, as the man was her steadfast companion and rarely let her out of his sight for long. She knew he worried about her. There was like as not still a murderous entity out there killing women, and she had survived once already only because he and Woden had been there for her. Without them, she knew she would have been surly slain. Gabriel also knew her keen aversion to taking any kind of life, and so always seemed to spare her such brutality by guarding her care himself. She was thankful beyond words. On this morning, however, he had had important things to which to attend, and she had promised not to go far. There was another who would look after her, she had reminded him, and so was on her way to see to that very matter.

A bright smile lit her patrician face when she saw a familiar figure sitting in the sun before the door of the Inn, his stoic features set. When he saw her, however, a smile brought a youth and gentleness into those features that brought the elven woman a great deal of joy.

“Good day and Light shine upon you, Voralen!” She greeted him with a little bow. “I was wondering… if perhaps I could prevail upon you for something of a favor. Usually Atreus is wonderful about working with me, but I do not wish to trouble him too much. He’s a wonderful teacher, I could not ask for better. However, if I’m to stand with you as well, I think it wise to know how Phoenix fight, that I might not be such a…” She blushed, “Liability. I thought I might be able to persuade you to train me in sword fighting this afternoon.”

She ran a delicate hand through the long black and blue braids of her hair. “I’m afraid that I’m terrible… Truly awful. I might even go do far as to confess to being hopeless. However, I need to try, and so I thought you might be willing to assist a little sister in such a task. Maybe then Gabriel won’t have to worry so much.” She laughed with good nature.

“Are you up to the task, my most worthy and noble brother?”

*Frowns a little with some of what Orien is saying about her self.

"Little Sister, You are by no means hopeless, you have a gift that is far greater than handling a sword, you give life, and help spread the light, That is far greater than any sword can deliver. You sell yourself short though on your skill."

*A small smile perks back onto Voralen's Features

"But not only would I be up for teaching you how to handle a sword, it would be my pleasure."

*Voralen unsheathes the Blade of Equitas and looks down both sides of the blade, he resheathes his sword into its scabbard, and looks to Oriens side.

"The first thing you will learn is to make sure you have a properly cared for blade, look for any imperfections, or nicks in the steel, for these imperfections can cause a warrior to lose his edge. Not only should the blade be in perfect shape, it should mirror the wielder. They need to be an extentsion of each other. It should never feel that you are wielding an object, but instead you are using a sharpened extension of yourself."

*With one fluid motion Voralen unsheathes the Blade of Equitas, spins the sword on the pommel and drops into a ready stance.

"My first lesson that I will instill upon you is a simple one. If you unsheath your weapon, you must be prepared to take a life. This is the brutal truth of warfare. A person unsure of this risks much more than just becoming injured. The risk losing much much more."

*With that Voralen eases out of his battle ready stance, and smiles brightly at Orien

"I know you have objections to taking life, and believe me, I do not take that fact lightly myself, but you must realize that much of the darkness that prevails this world does not have the conscience that you or I share. This is why we must fight, to be able to push back the darkness and shed light upon this bleak world once more."

Orien flushed pink under the kindness of his words. She was unused to people really noticing her, let alone paying her any kind of compliment. “I…” She blushed again and smiled, nodding.

The blade that Orien carried, new, was a simple yet elegant affair. Maxamus had been truly wonderful to her and had ordered it made while they had been in Woodhold. It was a short sword of purest silver, the hilt and pommel enameled in black and blue, with a blue crystal set at the cross piece. A dragon curled its way across the hilt, as electric blue as Orien’s own eyes. He had shown her how to properly care of it, and so she had been diligent about it, more out of honor to the gift he had given her than because she was obsessive about weapon care. Still, she took in everything Voralen said and stored it away, knowing that it would be important for her to remember.

The slight healer drew her own sword in a graceful movement, belying her self-professed inexperience. In fact, she seemed to have a fair hand with the thing, standing with ease and in good form. “Lord Donovan taught me much about such need. Though I would do anything, anything, to protect life and keep it from failing, I have come to understand that in the Light there is battle that must be done.” She closed her eyes a moment, settling her thoughts.

When she opened them, she was focused, intense. “Once… once I thought that simply serving life would be enough. I thought that my believe and faith in the good in folk would be enough to triumph over any darkness, any trial.” Softly she added. “I learned I was wrong.” She sighed and squared across from Voralen, her stance matching his own after she studied him for a long moment. “Now… now I will protect that which I love, even if that means walking the hard path. Taking life is not in my nature. But, to safeguard that which I love more dear than my own life, I shall do so. Only when necessary, only to protect, and only with deep regret, but with swift action and resolve all the same.”

*Voralen's shoulders slump a bit at Orien's stark realization of the state of the world.

"I truely am filled with a heavy heart that you have had to reach that conclusion, and trust me, I very much wish that I myself had no need to pick up the sword. I would be very content in being something else all together....."

*Voralen looks to be in a deep thought for a second before shaking his head and chuckling

"But that isnt the way of things. So now my young sister, are you ready for your 2nd lesson?"

*Voralen resets himself into a battle ready stance as he looks to Orien

"This lesson is one of the hardest to master, but one of the most important to know...

*Voralen purposefully lets his words linger, waiting for anykind of response from Orien, and as he sees the look of puzzlement come across her fine elven features he says simply

"Breathing. It is paramount to a warrior. What we may find to be something of a unconscience task really is the difference between being able to defeat a foe and just fighting one."

*Voralen starts to stalk closer to Orien, sword and shield ready to strike, waiting for any sign that Orien was holding her breath awaiting his actions.

"If you cannot learn to breath correctly, then your battle is already lost. You must never struggle to breath, if you get to the point where you are drawing in short, labored breaths then your foe has you where he wants you."

"The main thing with breathing is learning how to do it with out taking away from your mental readiness, which we will get to in a later lesson."

"Now the trick is to keep taking in evenly spaced breaths..."
*Voralen holds his hand up

"I know that in the heat of battle, with foes to great to count, that breathing seems to take a backseat to unleashing all your fury into sword blows, but it is the one who is truely learned to master his breathing that will stand after the dust clears."

*Voralen looks to Orien awaiting to answer any questions she may have

The healer listened to more than her new brother’s words, she listened to the wholeness of him. She studied his movements, the calm care with which he himself took breath and movement. She reached out with her extra sharp senses and took in not only what he said, but everything that he did. She matched herself to him perfectly.

In the back of her mind, lost in shadows, a little voice tried to assert itself, but she pushed it away with a frown of irritation. It was growing more insistent since she had decided to start weapon training, and she would not let it mock her, as it so very often did. She tried to ignore the feeling of being watch and mocked from within, and concentrated on Voralen’s lesson.

“So… calm and concentration on the wholeness of the self is of utmost concern to a skilled warrior then.” She pondered that. “Fighting becomes about more than the weapon at hand, but the weapon of the self as well then, does it not?”

*Smiles at Orien

"That is summed up beautifully. When we get to the last lesson you will find that being a warrior is much more of a mental game than many give it credit for."


*Voralen stops as he studies his pupils movements watching her reactions and willingness to follow his lead, a lilttle piece of him cracks away as he remembers back to his squad, and their training exercises that they did daily, and then almost as soon he shakes it out of his mind knowing that that road will only bring back painful memories

"Now that you have learned that you must be prepared to take a life if you draw steel, and also the importantance of breathing it is now time to show you the necessity of balance."

*Voralen shifts his weight to the balls of his feet almost as if he were ready to jump into the air

"Learning balance is as easy as just not falling over."

*Voralen Chuckles but regains his composure after tring to lighten the mood.

"Ok, balance may be more complicated than just that, though not falling over is a good start! Most of us were born with only two feet, which, when fighting, are most often in contact the ground. This means that we have two points on which to balance and to keep us from falling over.

*Voralen begins to sway back and forth showing how truely unbalanced you can be on two legs

"With only two points contacting the ground, we are always in danger of toppling over. Watch a baby learn to walk. Think of just how tricky this whole process is. Walking is a form of controlled falling. We have to push our limits of balance to the point of almost falling and then catch ourselves, with our other foot, to compensate.

*Voralen steps forward with cat like grace, correcting himself and keeping himself steady and upright

"If you are off balance you will more easily slip, trip, or fall. Tripping, slipping and falling are seldom going to keep you alive, so being balanced is generally something of a necessity. But, there are times when you may choose to move off balance, to make a strike. The important thing to consider is whether or not you intended to move off balance or not. You make this decision based upon experience, intuition and your perception of the likely hood of being able to make the strike. There is an element of judgment in the choice to go off balance, but you only do it for a reason. This goes back to the mental part of the fight. If your opponent thinks that you are truely unbalanced he may take a chance of opening himself up to strike, and you make your self more ready for the timing of a counter assault"

*Voralen taps on the sides of his thighs and slides his feet into another ready stance

"So, keep your feet shoulder width apart, and never cross your feet, or bring them both together, as you move around. You always want to have a good center of gravity to work with. You never want to tangle your self up in your own feet either. It is usually better to slide your feet an inch or so above the ground, than it is to pick up your feet and plant them back down. If you get rushed by an enemy, or are caught off guard just as you are picking up a foot, you will most likely suffer for it. The closer your foot is to the ground the less likely you are to be off balance for your opponents attack, and hopefully for your counter attack."

*Voralen demonstrates almost as if he were gliding across the ground never actually marching, just slowly scraping his feet as he moved from position to position.

“Balance.” She took a deep breath and followed him with her electric blue eyes, absorbing the lesson as would a sponge. Not a fighter perhaps, but she was an elf and it took her little time to commit everything that he said to memory, to make it part of herself.

“I have watched some of the others, particularly the pirate. She has a far more… elaborate stance. There is a kind of dance to her movements, crossing feet this way and that. As if the point is to as much confuse an enemy as to balance a strike. Which, I grant, must be simply a swashbuckler’s own sense of style. Still, it is far different from your own, brother mine.”

Having tied up her skirts, Orien was well able to move freely and with care. She was doing a pretty passable job of mimicking Voralen’s every movement, and contrary to her insistence that she was no fighter, she moved oddly as if she were a well seasoned warrior.