[SP-F11] A meeting most curious

[Ashrah 0]

Taft was strange more because of its inherent beauty than for anything else. It was the first relatively peaceful floor since the first, as every other was embroiled in some strange war or erratic weather patterns. Taft offered a gentle place for people to gather and relax, when they weren't throwing themselves headlong into combat. It had been an information broker, as usual, that brought Arc hence. He stopped by the strange house and peeked out back, and the sight of a young man surprised him. "Ha! Humph... haaargh!"

The youth slammed the head of his lengthy weapon into the training dummy time and again, almost like he sought to bleed the straw from its bowels. Arc peered more closely. "Rrrraaaaaaaagh!" He watched as the boy hefted the weapon overhead and brought it down, testing different angles of attack. The spear seemed more finite than a blade in some ways, but Tobias instant recognized that it offered certain advantages that the shorter weapon did not.

"Excuse me," he called. The boy stumbled, fell on a knee and glanced up at him. "Hey, sorry, I didn't mean-"

"What do you want?" the boy asked abruptly. "Can't you see I'm practicing? What possessed you to sneak up one a spearman? Don't you know I could have stabbed you at this distance and you would have been helpless to react?"

"Yeah, sorry, my bad," Tobias waved aside that portion of the dialogue. There was something else that interested him. "See, I'm interested in what you're doing. I've been swinging this sword now for quite some time, and frankly, it feels odd to me." He held out Levantine for the youth to inspect. With a scrunched up face, the boy looked from the weapon to the man and shook his head.

"I don't give a damn about swords," he said bluntly. "And any warrior worth his salt knows that the spear is a mightier weapon. If you're interested in my spear, I'd gladly teach you something of how to use it. What's your name, swordsman?"

"Arc," the mercenary replied. "I'm Arc. Who are you?"

"My name is Setanta," he replied with a broad smile. Arc tilted his head. What a strange name. It doesn't sound Japanese at all. "And I'm going to be the best spearman in all the lands. One day. You'll see."

"Well, Mr. Best Spearman," Arc nodded. "I'd be much obliged if you would teach me how your weapon works, and help me to get a feel for it. I've been lugging around a heavy sword for so long, a more bulky weapon might be difficult for me at first."

"Well thought, Swordsman Arc." Setanta nodded. "We'll begin immediately." The boy grabbed a pole from the training yard next to him and threw it to Arc. "Hold this in both hands... like this..."

[Ashrah 0]

"Like this?" Arc asked as he held the lengthy pole overhead, and Setanta immediately cursed. The boy whacked on his forearms, and Arc felt his muscles give out momentarily. The faux spear clattered to the dirt. "Hey, what gives?"

"You're relying more on your arm strength than the weapon," the young man chided. "The point of a spear is piercing power more than anything, so the amount of reliance on arm strength is a factor, but you're devoting too much to it." He knelt down, gripped the pole, then handed it back to the merc. "When you use an overhead grip like that, you have to relax the entirety of your body and devote your entire momentum to the blow. It's not meant to put that much stress on one or two areas. An attack from overhead has the speed, weight, and power of the spearman behind it. It's not just something you start stabbing with indiscriminately."

"So what you're telling me," Arc asked, "is that you should only use that stance when you're sacrificing on everything else for pure power?"

"Yes, exactly." Setanta held up a finger. "What you want to do is put your emphasis on mobility. The danger of a spear is becoming too reliant on offense, thinking that the blade is the only part of the weapon." The boy moved his hand along the haft of his weapon. "You have a good five, maybe six feet of wood at your disposal- sometimes even blunt metal. You can deftly parry blows or use it as a bludgeoning weapon. It's stunningly more versatile than a blade, where you only have a small number of slashing options, stabbing, or bashing with the pommel. Even if you were to halfsword, you would sacrifice on distance to gain accuracy."

Setanta smirked. "With a spear, you don't have to do any of that. It's entire length is inherent to the style. You have that three hundred and sixty degree radius of protection... given you become competent enough to utilize it."

Arc nodded. "I get it," he said. "I think I do get it."

"Then show me." The boy gestured for Arc to come at him.

[Ashrah 0]

Arc brought the weapon around in a wicked arc from behind his head. He had some training with a staff during his years of Taekwondo study, but the way that a spear worked was infinitely different. There were certain angles of attack far more subtle than anything he had been instructed in. The slapping blow was deftly warded by his opponent, who guided the weapon to the ground after interception. "You've obviously got some talent for it," Setanta praised, "but you're attacking like your weapon is simply blunt. That's not good enough. You want to treat the spear for what it is- a way to find and exploit the enemy's weaknesses."

As he spoke, the boy brought his spear upward in a wicked slash that grazed Arc's torso. The mercenary was too slow to avoid feeling it's raking touch. "You can take your opponent off balance with little things like that," Setanta instructed, then as he took a half step toward the man, the spearman halted the centrifuge of his weapon by thrusting straight forward. The spearhead glided expertly over Arc's shoulder, clear of any real impact.

It was enough to cause the man a brief stint of discontent.

"A spearman requires infinitely more control over his weapon than a swordsman," Setanta explained. "You're attacking from every thinkable direction, and then some." He slowly reneged his weapon, then brought it down to his side. "Now, try again."

[Ashrah 0]

Arc had more command over the weapon than he did initially, but he was still slow and awkward. Understanding how the weapon worked did not make him its master, nor did familiarity with the weight of shape. He became more conscious of it as his motions grew more fluid, but Setanta was still more aware than him of his own attacks. Each quick, shallow jab was met with a curt response. "You're just looking to overwhelm with thin, weak hits," the boy chastised him. "There is no power behind them, and even with the make of the weapon, it can't be made lethal without something to empower it."

He grunted as the impact from a low sweep of Setanta's weapon took him across the stomach. Arc expelled the air from his lungs violently. "You thrust when there is an opening, and not before. The only exception to this is with an opponent who's arms are not geared toward defense, such as an archer or and unarmed opponent. They will find difficulty in most instances with fending off your blows." The boy's sweeping strokes were proof his words held great merit. The only time Setanta had so much as considered a thrust was to show him to accuracy and lethality of the weapon.

"Enough with the faux fighting," the boy waved a hand. "We need to get to a point where the basics are ingrained in your movements. Start with thrusts and sweeps, and I will adjust your training to factor angles once you have a better understanding."

[Ashrah 0]

"What made you want to learn the spear?" As Arc continued to practice straight, sturdy thrusts, the young man teaching him asked a question that caused him to fumble the weapon a bit. His eyes moved to Setanta, who in turn chuckled. "It's not often someone outright asks to try a weapon they are unused to. I wanted to understand what prompted you to do it."

Arc thrust again, and this time his eyes focused straight forward as he imagined one of the myriad creatures he had brought down during his travels through Aincrad. "I've fought a great many battles," he answered, "and I've thought that through them, the weapon I've wielded didn't resonate with my spirit. Initially, I chose to wield a two handed sword because it channeled the anger I was born with," Arc felt his skin chill at the overt admission, "but I also did it because my best friend and I had always played with sticks and pretended to be knights as kids."

Setanta laughed. "Yeah, I think it's pretty funny too," Arc admitted. The other boy broke into a Cheshire grin.

"Very good," the spearman acknowledged. "Pure. Genuine. Worthy."

[Ashrah 0]

He felt pressure as his weapon was slapped away, but it did not fly from his hands. Arc kept his grip and twisted his body through the motion to maintain control of the stick, and Setanta praised him. "Good!" the youth called out as Arc came around again, and the blunt end of the weapon struck out in a quick thrust. "You're getting better with the reaction timing. You're starting to feel the weapon as though it's a part of you, just like a sword."

Arc turned the haft of his weapon hand over hand, sending it into a quick spin as Setanta deftly deflected his riposte. "You're a fast learner," his instructor remarked. "But you're still quite slow, I hate to say."

The blurred image of a spearhead barely registered as it stopped in front of his eyes. Arc felt his jaw slack as he reeled in contemplation over what he'd just witnessed. "So, Arc," Setanta asked him. "How many spears did you see?"

"Six... twelve... there were twelve," the mercenary murmured. He could barely grasp the images that still burned in his mind. "Easily twelve. How did you-"

"Wrong," Setanta held up a single finger. "There was only one. You can see it plainly, right here." The boy held up his weapon and allowed Arc to assess it. "You're focused heavily on response time and defense. A spear is a weapon for all out offense, Arc. You need to know how to defend yourself, but when you use a weapon designed specifically for the task of breaking through defense, you train to do that with all of your soul."

Arc felt his body shivering.

[Ashrah 0]

"How do I train to get that quick?" he asked as the other man lowered his weapon and took a seat on the ground. Setanta looked up at him and smiled in amusement, but said nothing. "Is this one of those Miyagi things? Are you going to tell me that I'll eventually figure it out on my own and watch while I make a fool of myself?" The boy proceeded to let out a laugh.

"What is a Miyagi?" the NPC asked with a look like he was about to break into a fit of laughter. "And what are you talking about? I was going to wait for you to realize that the answer is always going to be the same when it comes to getting better. Practice. Come now, Arc, did you think that there was some sort of secret method that only I can give you? What is this, a game?"

You're hilarious, Cardinal.

"Continue with the same fundamentals until they are your own," Setanta answered with a yawn. "The only way to become a Master is to first be a beginner. That much should be obvious to anyone, no matter what the weapon." Arc listened intently, and he leaned his weight against the shaft of his weapon. "Also, you will want to get a spear to practice with. It does not have to be anything of great quality, mind. The ability to use a weapon does not depend on the make, but on how acclimated you become to it. Gradually get used to weightier spears until you can use the finest of them in battle. A spear with more weight is a spear with more innate power. Your body will continue to progress until it can resonate with your weapon, and you are a rival to the strongest indeed."

[Ashrah 0]

"Come," Setanta gestured for Arc to follow him. "Rest here for a while. We will discuss things and share drink. There is no reason you ought to spend all your time in training on your first day." The long haired bow smiled eagerly as he led the mercenary toward the nearby house and opened the door for him. As Arc stepped across the threshold, he marveled at what he found there.

"These are..." Arc looked around at runic symbols and depictions of great and ancient battle. Setanta spared a glance in his direction as the player stared on in abject wonder at different myths from throughout the distant past. "...Balmung," he whispered as he pointed to one image of a sword that had been lodged in the bark of a great tree, "and Excalibur." The telltale imagery of a sword sheathed in stone glimmered with faint light as he traced its lines with a finger, then looked to his mentor. "This is a collection of famous weapons," he said. "Swords and..."

"Spears, too," Setanta patted the image of a shaft stabbed deep into the heart of a foe proudly. "This is Gaebolga," he said. "Have you heard of it? Tell me you have, Arc."

"Gae Bolg," the young man uttered, "a spear that lodges in the body and cannot be removed but by-"

"You have heard of her," Setanta murmured affectionately. "The spear that will slay any foe. She is a treasure beyond words, and I firmly believe that her existence in this world is more than mere myth."

Arc thought that it was strange; if Cardinal truly created these quests, what was it attempting to tell him by leaving such a cryptic message? Was Setanta trying to tell him to seek out a mythical weapon? But he lacked even the beginnings of the skill to wield it!

"It will be mine," the man said as he looked at Arc. "I thought I should show you this," he said. "It gives you some ambition. Something to seek. Would you be willing to devote your training toward this cause?" he asked. "Or is there something else that drives you, Arc? Do you have some greater motivation?"

The mercenary smiled. "Yes, I reckon I do," he answered softly. "I want to slay powerful enemies, a weapon for my allies and a swift death to those who threaten them with harm."

"Well said, Arc," Setanta clapped merrily. "Well said."

Edited October 1, 2016 by Arc

[Ashrah 0]

Arc flipped through the treasure trove of tomes that littered the floor of Setanta's home as the man prepared a veritable feast. "A spearman must be hearty, you know," he called out over the sound of boiling water. "Do you drink grog? Mead?" The young man glanced back at his protege as he stepped away from cooking to pour drinks. "I have no shortage of the drink."

"I'll have mead," the mercenary replied as he turned another page. "There is some information in here I've never seen before," he confessed. "There's a lot available if you know where to look, granted, but some of this stuff must have been dug out of archives and-"

"Those books are extremely rare," Setanta cut him off. "In all this land, they are the only ones of their kind." The spearmaster brought Arc a flagon filled to overflowing with viscous, frothy fluid. He bumped cups with the man and took a long drink. After he took a breath, Setanta smirked. "Not that it matters. These legends are all founded in some measure of truth. If you look hard enough, scour the dungeons and seek them, I firmly believe that you can find the truth of any one of those legends."

Arc glanced at the man. "You really love these stories," he observed.

"My master..." the Merc glanced at his teacher and tilted his head. "She was killed in battle by a hound. Not just any hound, but a powerful hound. She lost her life because the creature was able to heal more quickly than she could do it harm."

"So you want a weapon that does not allow for its victim to heal," Arc considered, "so that you can avenge her death."

Setanta nodded.

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"Feel free to rest here tonight," the spearman suggested. "You're welcome to browse all the volumes for as long as you like. Consider it a gift for starting to learn a new weapon."

Arc smiled at the man and nodded. "Sure thing," he replied. Part of him wondered if the NPC was lonely after the loss of his master, but Setanta seemed to be content. The lad sat in a chair and reclined himself, eyes closed. "What made you want to learn the spear?" the mercenary asked. It seemed relevant, since the man had dedicated so much of his life to the art. If there was anything to be learned of his tenacity, that was surely where to find it.

"Why do I?" the red haired warrior opened his gilded eyes a fraction and his lips flat-lined. "I wonder..."

Arc tilted his head. He would not press the issue if the man deigned it unfit to speak of. "I have always studied the spear," the man replied. "There was never a time I considered anything else. When I was a child, I remember my parents leaving and then... nothing. The spear was my life from the moment my master took me in."

"I have years of practice," Arc muttered, "before I can ever rival someone with that sort of pedigree."

Setanta smirked. "If you practice diligently," the NPC hinted, "it may come more naturally than you expect."

[Ashrah 0]

The mercenary woke well before dawn. The sounds of cooking stole through the room as he stirred, and he found a woman already tending to the morning's duties. "Ah," she said quietly, "you're awake. The young master waited for several hours, but you were out cold. He's gone back to training outside."

Arc bowed. "Thank you for your hospitality," the man spoke evenly. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

"No, not at all," she chuckled and waved a hand. "It is nice to have guests every so often. It gets lonely, what with Master Setanta rarely around during the day." Arc wondered at what kept the man out of his house so frequently, but he refrained from inquiry. "Have you taken up the spear?" she asked him.

"Yes," he smiled, "I took to it immediately. He has been a wonderful instructor."

The NPC smiled warmly. "I am glad," her voice was softer now. "The young master does not often make friends, but the spear is an important part of his life. You will doubtless become very close."

Arc blinked. What did she mean by that? "Ah, I've spoken out of turn. I apologize," she bowed. "Please, be a good friend to Setanta."

"Of course," Arc nodded