Rise Up, Ting Ting, Like Glitter And Gold

The door to the blacksmith's forge creaked open, spilling light into the dark space. The world was still clad in the shroud of night, the sun just beginning to cast its first rays over the eastern horizon, and thusly, the room was lit by the orange glow of the torches out in the corridor. Artorias stepped inside the quiet blacksmith, striding past the bellows and forge and over to the door on the far end of the smithy. He lifted the latch and pushed the door inward again, letting light spill into the armory. It glinted off of the dark iron and steel plates of armor, off the sharpened blades of swords, axes, and spears. Artorias had spent an indeterminate amount of time repairing and maintaining the weapons and armor in the castle from the moment they moved in, ensuring the Hallows always had ample supply of armaments. But what he was most interested in were the wooden sparring swords hanging from a rack beside the door.

"Hello, old friends," he said with a crooked smile to the dull "swords" and snatched two of them off the rack, slipping them through the straps of his cuirass to carry them on his back. He stepped into the armory long enough to grab a basic leather cuirass and then made his way back out, closing doors as he went. The air outside was cool and heralded a chill of the approaching Austerian winter. Artorias' brow furrowed with concern. The only winter he'd ever experienced in Auster had been the ice age that had killed Askan and brought the creatures that killed Resin too. The young alpha prayed this would not be another repeat occurrence. Artorias strode through the gardens and out of the gates, heading for the training fields just outside the walls. He'd set up some torches earlier to guide Fern to the rings, knowing the sun would be up shortly, but for now they would work in the dark.

When he arrived, he saw Fern already doing some warm up stretches in the ring. Art's lips turned up in a hint of a smile from around the armor he was carrying. She was showing initiative by preparing early for their lessons. Good; Fern would do well. Padding up to the ring and crossing the boundary, Artorias greeted Fern with a tip of his head to her, then he placed the cuirass at her paws. "Put this on," he instructed her. He drew one of the wooden sparring swords and set it down beside the armor. "When you're ready, pick up your sword. We're going to go over some basic movements with a weapon first." Art gave her all the time she needed to get armored up and prepared, only continuing once Fern relayed that she was ready. Artorias drew his own wooden sword and showed her how he held it between solid jaws. "Remember to keep a firm grip on the hilt. Don't bite so hard it hurts, but you don't want your weapon to be wobbly either." He gave a demonstration by shaking his head, showing how the sword didn't wobble or move in his grasp.

"When fighting with a sword, it's important to always remember where your blade is. Treat it like it's an extension of yourself—of your bite." Artorias took a slow step forward, showing how the sword remained steady as he moved. Another step, and this time Artorias slowly brought his head from left to right, swinging the sword slowly with his movement. He followed this up with another step, turning his head the opposite way to bring the sword back again. "Do you see how I'm moving as I'm swinging? It helps you stay balanced and on target to keep up your momentum as you strike. The goal is to use your weapon to not only harm an opponent, but to keep them at bay as well." Again, Artorias built a slow, steady rhythm of moving and swinging his sword, letting Fern follow alongside him as he did to practice and learn with him. All the while, he left silence between his lessons, giving her space to ask questions if she had any.

"Artorias" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Argent"