Chapter 14: Chapter twelve – The cliché encounter?

On the second day of travel, after having slept decently well and gone decently far both this day and the one before, we heard something. It sounded like a scream, and recurred quite often. Thinking back to all the novels I read in my ‘depressed mid twenties’ phase, we rode over. Expecting to see an attack, or at least the aftermath of one, I was quite surprised to see a perfectly normal camp, three Isaktigs loosely tied, somehow still sleeping, and… one large barely lit tent, with quite a lot of movement inside. My face went blank, then I turned Arktis around and left, going back along the stretch of road that she had dashed up to ‘save’ them. 

The next day, about lunch time, we passed the two from last night in a picnic on the side of the road. They were three Av Utsiden, A gravity and space affinity, a time and space affinity, and a creation and gravity affinity, to be exact. I dismounted and walked over, intending to introduce myself and ease any possible worries. That is not what happened, at all. They ended up being ridiculously friendly, and invited me to eat with them. I took them up on the offer, something that I’m not really sure why I did, and we talked for the better part of 30 minutes. 

They were a decently experienced mercenary band/thruple adventuring for fun, and had found the business quite profitable, leading them to stay in the job for a lot longer than they initially intended. They also told me about their next job, helping guard a small town from continuous bandit raids in the area. They were one of fifteen bands taking the offer, something that shocked me, as that had to be too expensive for a small town to ford, especially one being repeatedly raided by bandits. This lasted until one of them - they never got around to the names part of things - told me that the Crown had hired them, and that the town would see slightly increased taxes for the next decade or two in order to repay them.

Not once during all of this could I make more input than a few words, and when I finally got a chance to talk about me, I kept it to the basics - I was an inventor heading to the capital to increase publicity, the amount of people buying, the amount of people selling, and the availability. When they asked me why I was traveling alone, I just said that I was pretty strong on my own, at least against people. That led to one of them asking for a sparring match, and I accepted - though only after making a blunted replica of the bastard sword that the time and gravity one used, amazing them all in the process. I took out my blades, and got into position, dagger covering my throat and upper chest, sword held over my back in preparation for a downwards swing. The one I was facing off against, who I finally found out was named Ziket, took a longpoint guard. 

Taking the first move, I swung down, knocking their blade a little off center as they parried, then followed through, spinning my blade to gain momentum and helping an overcorrection. This went into a fluid kronhau, going over the top of my blocking blade to try and whack my face. I raised my dagger to block the strike, then dropped my sword arm into a downward slash at the torso, corrected for the dodge, and nearly hit Ziket’s waist. They moved it back just in time, though they were now off balance. I was as well, so when they moved back, taking the sword with them in preparation for a lunge, I steadied myself and pushed the blade off course while dodging, then came in close with a thrust of my own, though Ziket stopped it easily enough, all they had to do was push their arms forward and I couldn’t reach.

I dipped my sword through their arms, at the same time bringing my dagger up to their sword. Then I laid the flat along their side, and leveraged their arms open, before spinning their arm into my grasp and poking their back with my dagger, right where our cores are. We dropped away, and all three of them looked at me with some amazement and curiosity, likely never having seen grappling and holds in a swordfight. 

I had wanted to get a sword with better weight and heft for a while, and this just cemented my feelings. Even if I only knew counters with my own weapons for the staple moves, a longsword or bastard sword would allow so much more reach and stopping power. I still liked my regular blades, so I would likely try to make an enchantment that allowed me to combine them quickly, and get a much longer and heavier sword, though I might have to swap out daggers for something longer, maybe a classic Renaissance dagger or parrying dagger. Beginning to like this idea more and more, I take out a notebook to write it down. Only then do I realize that they have been trying to talk to me, and that I have been ignoring them. 

Finally, after far too long, we got back on the road, this time walking together and me telling them more of my life since coming here, as I hadn’t been very forthcoming earlier. They also wanted to know where I learned about martial arts, and I told them most of the truth. In my early teen years, I had some anger issues, so my parents sent me to a martial arts camp over the summer. It was most of the summer, and by the time it ended, I was both much better for it, even if I did resent my teacher for how hard he pushed, and completely hooked on martial arts. I ended up going back to that camp until I hit eighteen, then worked there on my gap year before going to college and finding out about crazy physics theories and getting hooked again, though in practice, I left out the bit about college, instead saying that I had a very long job. To keep myself active, I fenced, learned a bit about different weapons and how to use them, and how to defend against them with my chosen weapons. 

That night, as the three headed into their communal tent and I cozied up next to Arktis, I started work on my next weapon idea, not even noticing that I had fallen into the Trance of the Maker.

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