The Swordsman Path

[cmosier]

The following is a history of Byrun van Hellstrom’s training. He started his training at the age of 14 under the direction of Ja’Mahri “Thumper” Reeds.

Byrun makes his way into the private training hall. The young noble thought it was an odd request, as Elite Reeds was not one to train swordsmen personally. Byrun was pretty sure that Cyrus was probably behind this though he wasn’t sure why. He shook the thought away and took a deep breath as he entered the large training room.

The room was of decent size, but not too large. There were no training dummies or targets. Off to one side there was a single cot and a chair. In the chair set one of the medics that Byrun had seen about the Arena. In the center of the room stood the imposing Calimshite, Ja’Mahri.

Byrun offers a nod. “Good day, Elite Reeds.”

A grin begins to form on Ja’Mahri’s face. “Young Lord Byrun. I’m pleased to see you on time and… prepared.”

The way he said that last word, prepared, seemed to unsettle the young lord.

“You should note a few rules. We do not address each other by titles here. I’m your trainer and you are my student. Perhaps I shall show you the reason for this.” As he finished his statement, Ja’Mahri quickly moved to Bryun, striking him in the back of the head with his wooden training sword. The blow echoed a loud smack in the room and Byrun could feel the warm ooze of blood creep down the back of his neck.

“You see boy! That right there! Pain! Pain is an excellent teacher!” Ja’Mahri’s words stung almost as much as the young man’s head. Byrun quickly got to his feet and positioned his wooden training sword in a defensive manner.

“Ah. There we go! You may be entitled to a lot of things, but on the battlefield, you are not the exception!” Ja’Mahri leapt quickly. Byrun parried the first strike, but the power in which his teacher struck his weapon caused his hand to throb. This was quickly followed by a strike to the calf, which knocked Bryun to the ground.

“Not as fun as that fancy stuff with the training dummies, is it boy?. All the young noble girls fawning over your… technique. Now, if you are done playing on the floor. Stand the hell up! Hit me, boy!”

Angered by his trainer’s words, Byrun forces himself up and lunges toward his opponent. He strikes twice, hard, but the first attack is parried, and the follow up is easily side stepped. Ja’Mahri quickly lands a blow to Byrun’s stomach. His armor protected him from any real damage, but he fell to his knees with the wind knocked out of him.

“That sticks and stones shit isn’t true, is it boy?” Ja’Mahri is interrupted by a cough from the medic sitting in his chair. He gives a nod to the man. The medic turns Byrun over and examines him. He opens each eye and then gives Ja’Mahri a nod.

“Well! You’re in luck! Looks like we can continue! Now… Get up.”

[cmosier]

The training session seemed to go on longer than usual. Byrun was starting to wonder if Ja’Mahri took some sort of twisted pleasure in all of this. They’ve been training for several months, but it seemed that every time the noble came close to perfecting something, his trainer would raise the bar to what seemed an unattainable height.

“The reason for fighting is easy boy! You fight to win! If you don’t intend to defeat your opponent, don’t waste the time pulling your blade out!” Ja’Mahri swung hard enough where Byrun could feel the whiff of the training sword as it passed inches from his face. The Calimshite quickly swiped at the noble’s legs as he leaned back to dodge the blow, knocking him to the ground with a hard thud.

Ja’Mahri shook his head smiling. He looked over to the medic to get a confirmation. He was caught off guard as a grin formed on the medics face. The Calimshite could not react before he felt the hard crack of a training sword against his calf and the sudden force of his feet being knocked from under him. Byrun stood over him and made two quick downward chops, both of which JaMahri was able to dodge, while on his back. He countered Byrun’s attacks by striking his weapon with such force that it caused the noble to take a step back, allowing Ja’Mahri to get to his feet.

“Ha! Good news, you’re learning boy! Bad news? No medic to distract ole Thumper anymore.” With that, Ja’Mahri knocked the sword out Byrun’s hand and landed two blows, one to the mid-section and the other to his back as Byrun leaned forward to catch his breath from the first attack.

“Not so tough without your weapon, are you boy?” With those words, Byrun fell to one knee and then collapsed to the ground. Ja’Mahri, content the noble was down for a few minutes, walked over to the side of the room, out of his student’s sight and rubbed his calf.

He smiled and thought to himself, “Nice hit boy. Nice hit.” He looked up and noticed Byrun starting to stand and head toward his weapon. The smile on Ja’Mahri’s face widened and he began to walk toward his student.

[cmosier]

Byrun and Ja'mahri sat, looking over the Arena. The sun was beginning to set and the traces of the battles fought on the sandy floors were beginning to give way to the darkness. Byrun suddenly let out a wheezing cough as he took a drag from the cigar that Thumper had given him as a gift.

"You'll get the hang of it, boy." Ja'mahri pats him on the back.

Byrun shakes his head. "I don't think this if for me, Elite. I'll stick to a decent shot of good alcohol as my vice."

Ja'mahri gives a hardy laugh. "Boy, you'll find two of the easiest ways to cloud a man's mind is with alcohol or a beautiful woman. It's fine to enjoy both, just remember, I warned you!"

Byrun shifted a bit and chuckled at his teacher's remarks. The training had been very brutal. Punches were seldom, if ever pulled and toward the end, it seemed Ja'mahri was particularly aggressive. He had learned lessons and had the scars to prove it. But it was a nice change of pace to relax like this with his teacher.

"Any idea where your going, boy?"

Byrun shrugged his shoulders. "Ultimately? Calimshan. I plan on taking a ship to Neverwinter then to Waterdeep. Probably try to get some work as a caravan guard from there. I plan on seeing my sister while I'm in Waterdeep."

Ja'mahri let out a snort. "Ha! A Noble working? As guard none the less! I best make peace with Gods if that's you plan."

"You misunderstand, Elite. It's not about the coin; its about the experience. I think it best if I see some of Faerun for myself and test myself against opponents in a more realistic environment. I figured you showed me the way, now to test my will."

Ja'mahri pats Byrun on the shoulder. "Smart boy. Just remember, your opponents might not be as friendly as ole Thumper!"

With that, Byrun was sure he grimaced. Hoping he was able to hide from his teacher he took another puff of his cigar. The young Noble had thought through all the paths in head several times. There was no easy answer. Not like in the stories that children read. It seemed the only thing he could really do is take that first step.

As he went back to his room to pack his belongings, he wasn't sure which would beat him worse, Ja'mahri's training or life itself. He had no illusions as to what the probable answer to that question was as he drifted to sleep in his bed. A bed he would not see again for almost a decade.