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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

The Cursesteel Knights


Falcon2001

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Note that there is a discussion thread for this as well, but it contains spoilers. Feel free to give feedback here if you don't want to be spoilered.

 

I'll be posting it in chapters, I've got several parts of chapter 2 completed as well, but I'll wait until it concludes to post it.

 

Chapter One

 

The wooden dummy taunted Oeric, swinging back and forth on the ropes idly. It seemed tireless, oblivious to the hours of training. Oeric, on the other hand, was very much aware of how much time had passed. His breath rasped and his lungs burned, and he was beginning to feel a vague and irrational dislike of the dummy.

 

“Put your back into it, initiates!” roared the knight in charge of the group. He stalked the room, the clank of his armor reminding the trainees the weight of his threats. Oeric grunted and swung again, the training sword clattering against the dummy and sending the pieces flipping about. “Oeric, do you even remember how to use that weapon?” the knight yelled, stamping over to him. In a flash, he had brought his own sword out in a shimmering arc, the blade cleaving the arm from the dummy. “Aim for the weak points on an armored opponent, dependant on which plate he wears.” Sheathing his weapon, the knight turned and resumed his pacing around the room. “Against an opponent armored fully, the joints are the weakest point – the pit of the arm, the elbow, the knee. These will be your targets.”

 

Oeric sighed heavily, and began re-assembling his dummy. Heavy rope connected the limbs to the main body, and even tied tightly together it still hung limply on the ropes. He worked slowly but carefully, tying the knots purposefully – Oeric took care to do nothing in haste. Even as a young boy, he remembered patiently building elaborate dirt and stick structures, as opposed to the haphazard creations of his playmates. This tenacity followed Oeric and served him well through his four years of training.

 

His knots finished, he took a step back and hefted the practice sword again. Taking a moment to compose himself, he swung, running through the forms he was taught. Distract and strike. He swung the sword horizontally across the dummy’s chest, using the force to make a slash at the leg. Soon he found himself at peace, slamming away at the dummy in predictable patterns. His mind wandered to thoughts of his upcoming Orequest, and he was surprised when he heard the knight in charge yell halt.

 

“Good work today, lads. It’s the end of the day, so off to your own business. Preparation is key, so get plenty of rest. Tomorrow will be another busy day.” Quickly chatter filled the room as the fourth-years all talked excitedly about various topics. It was late enough in the year that many of them were going to be embarking on their Orequest soon, and a mixture of unease and excitement had suffused the group. Oeric remained silent as he hung up his training armor and weapons, then made his way to the great hall.

 

The great hall of the Wacian Knighthood was, like almost everything else in the castle, functional before anything else. The chairs and tables looked like they had been used as a barricade in the last war, and even the Marshals furniture was simple and functional over decorative. Even the Wacian crest was simplistic, a black sword on a red circle – a simple banner emblazoned with the crest hung over the Marshals table.

 

The hall buzzed with the talk of initiates chattering among themselves as they lined up for food. The rest of the castle had already eaten, but there was plenty left for the hungry teenagers. Oeric settled into line and found himself behind a familiar student. Cedric turned around as Oeric got into the line and grinned widely. “Hello, then. How has the day gone, Oeric?” he asked, brushing hair from his face. “You seem to have survived another of Sir Lucan’s lectures on swordplay.” Oeric shrugged. “Nothing new yet.” He replied, eyeing the stewpots. “Seems like we’ve been learning the same thing for four years now.”

 

“Of course we have, friend. If we can’t run through these drills in our sleep, Sir Lucan’ll never see us to Sergeants.” Cedric had been through almost as much as Oeric, starting three weeks after Oeric had shown up at Castle Wacia. They had become quick compatriots, and both had lasted through the rough training required of all initiates to the Wacian Knighthood. Without waiting for a response, Cedric continued. “I’m almost jealous that you’ll be going on your Orequest before me – it’s unfair that you just happened to be born sooner.” Oeric sighed. “I wouldn’t be. It’s not fun and games.”

 

“That’s what you say, but at least it’s exciting – the landing site is still taken by the beasts of the mountains, and there’s no better place to find adventure.” Cedric grinned broadly at Oeric’s blank expression. “At the very least it’s got to be more exciting than whacking away at a training dummy all afternoon.” Oeric ignored him and held out his bowl, which was filled with stew by a bored-looking servant in a brown frock. She dumped a hunk of plain bread on top and shooed him along. He sauntered over to a nearby table and sat down, his focus on the food.

 

“So, you’re leaving tomorrow?” Cedric asked, setting down his food next to him. “Day after.” Oeric responded between spoons of soup. “Tomorrow I meet with my guide.” Cedric was silent long enough to shovel food into his mouth, staring pensively at the table. Cedric’s right about one thing – it will be more interesting than the same training drills. Oeric’s past year had been more about repetition and less about new techniques or learning – that’s the place of a Sergeant, he supposed.

 

The meal finished quickly, and Oeric found himself back in the initiates barracks again. He sighed and flopped into his cot, looking inward yet again. Tomorrow I begin my training to become a Sergeant. He thought, trying to review what he knew about the process. The Wacian knights were tightlipped about the process, although it wasn’t necessarily a secret either. He supposed it fell into ‘things one did not talk about’, but while that explanation stifled his curiosity a little, it did little to ease his trepidation. It remains that I know almost nothing about what I’ll be doing tomorrow, or what the journey will entail. Furrowing his brow, he thought over what he did know.

 

The Orequest was the rite of passage from an initiate to a Sergeant of the Wacian Order. During the Orequest, students traveled with a knight to the site where the adamant star landed, and there retrieved a piece of the material from the fallen star. Beyond that, he knew very little about the process, the dangers, or anything of the measure beyond whispers after hours in the barracks. If all those rumors were true, it would lie beyond the western sea, be guarded by thirty hounds with flaming breath, and would weigh more than the whole castle. He mused, discarding most of the rumors as such. Banishing the thoughts to the back of his mind, he rolled over and slept deeply. He did not dream that night.

Edited by Falcon2001
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