Chapitre 3: Chapter 3
(Can't even swing a sword)
Reskeme slowly trudged down the dungeon stairs. He found the metal wash pan coated in rust that the guard had told him about. Disrobing, he scowled down at his scraps. It would have been too much to call them clothes. With an old sac for a shirt. And a pair of rough cotton pants that had more roughly sewn patches than the original cloth.
After rinsing his body with the water, he used a small piece of cloth to scrub across the back of his neck. Bringing the rag back in front of him, he couldn't help but notice the rag was dripping grime and blood. Gonna have to burn it when I'm done, he thought. Cleaning his entire body, Reskeme turned to his most prized possessions. He soaked his make-shift clothes, hoping they wouldn't fall apart during the abuse. Reskeme sighed in relief. Miraculously, they somehow stayed together.
Feeling clean for the first time in months, he went back upstairs. Carrying his wet clothes and feeling the cool air on his bare skin, Reskeme smiled. He made his way to the closet the guard mentioned. He hung his wet clothes on a mop handle so they could dry, then looked at his sleeping quarters for the night. A storage closet is better than I've had before, Reskeme thought. He sunk to the floor, dropping like a brick onto the hardwood floor. "Ouch" He mumbled, rubbing his sore nose. Pulling a small sack over top of his naked body, he closed his eyes, drifting asleep.
After what felt like 10 minutes of sleep, Reskeme blinked rapidly, his vision blurry. Knock!! Knock!! Knock!!
"Wake up!! You're late for training!!" Someone shouted loudly from outside the closet. When he didn't answer, the door flew open. The guard from before stormed in red faced and kicked him in the chest. Grunting in pain, Reskeme decided he better get up before he got another kick. Gasping for breath, rolling to his hands and knees.
As he got to his feet, he couldn't help but notice that his body was less painful to move then the night before. Most of his injuries seemed less painful after a good night's sleep. It was only after he checked himself over, that he finally remembered the guard. Turning to the man, Reskeme noticed the man was staring at him in wide-eyed horror.
"You're a monster! A demon!" The guard shouted out in disgust.
Reskeme growled, glaring into the guard's eyes. "And you are uglier than a donkey ass." replied Reskeme
The guard, who Reskeme had dubbed Snauze, was truly unfortunate. The guard had the face only a mother could love. His crooked teeth, long bent nose and wide ears made him look like a fairytale creature. The man's nose was so big, it could have put most horses to shame. As Reskeme looked over at Snauze, he noticed the man's clenched fists and grinding teeth. The ugly guard quickly stepped forward and punched Reskeme in the gut, doubling him over in pain. 'Worth it!' Reskeme thought, trying not to throw up the bread he had eaten last night.
Reskeme followed Snauze down the hall at a jog. The mans long stride made it difficult to keep up with him. He apparently didn't care if Reskeme fell behind, stumbling along the hardwood floor. After chasing him through two doors and into an open area, Reskeme found himself in an obstacle course surrounded by massive walls. Looking around the field, he could see some other young adults running the coarse or hitting each other with sticks.
After escorting him to the training grounds, Snauze pushed Reskeme onto the ground before turning around and leaving, not even saying a word. What a jackass! Reskeme as he climbed back to his feet. Finally getting a look around at the students. It was only then he noticed the man instructing them. The mans name was Terrance, Reskeme thought.
The name burning into his memory. This man helped do the ritual on him. Reskeme gaped at the running track and the many weapons. Everyone stopped as they finally took notice of him, halting dead in their tracks. With mouths agape, as if they all stared at what could only be a Devil's spawn. Reskemes heart skipped a beat, this didn't look promising.
Terrance was the first to come to his senses. He turned back to everyone and yelled, "Get back to work you, idiots, it's not break time!!"
The mans cold eyes turning back to Reskeme.
"Get over here, boy."Terrance said,
Reskeme ran over to him, not wanting to be punished for tardiness. Terrance towered over him, making Reskemes height seem short. The man's dark brown eyes slightly covered by his long brown hair.Terrance's clothes bulged, his shirt stretched, revealing muscle beneath. Reskeme swallowed, taking a step back. The man looked made of boulders. Probably why he sucks at singing and chanting magic, he's a muscle head, Chuckled Reskeme.
The other trainees were pretending to do their exercises' while staring at him. Terrance sauntered over and leaned into a swing. Face burning, Reskeme grasped for his cheek after being hit with an open palm across the face. Staggering Reskeme lost balance, landing on his back. Reskemes breath left him in a whoosh, sand digging into his skull painfully.
"Damn that hurt." Reskeme groaned as he crawled onto his knees. Heart racing, he glanced up towards Terrance.
"What was that for?" Reskeme asked.
"You were late, you little shit. I will let you off with one hit for being late today because it is your first day. I expect you to be here at sunrise every morning until I say otherwise. Our gracious guild master has let you get training from a prestigious weapons master like myself. Tardiness will get you kicked out of my class." Shouted Terrance, spittle flying onto Reskemes face.
Terrance sounded like he was the war goddess's gift to the world when he said that. Reskeme flushed, nodding nervously.
Slowly, Reskeme got to his feet. He massaged his cheek, trying to make the pain go away, but it only causing stabbing agony. With the best Bowé he could muster, Reskeme grinned.
"Train me in the ways of the stick, oh glorious master!!" Said Reskeme sarcastically.
All he heard was the rustle of fabric, then darkness. The next thing he knew, he was blinking his eyes with his ears ringing.
"Get the hell up!!" yelled Terrance.
It all sounded muffled to him, though. Slowly, he dragged himself to his feet, trying to stay upright on his wobbly legs. When he could finally hear Terrance properly, the man's face was as red as a rotten tomato.
Spittle flying from the man's mouth, he yelled, "Run 100 laps around the grounds!"
Internally, Reskeme was thanking the Deity of life that the yard was small. He groaned to himself as he jogged around the field. Every time it seemed like he was slowing down, Terrance would help him. By being helpful, Terrance would yell threats to give him an incentive.
One day will get you back for this shit. For your part in the ritual! I'll get all of you!!' He thought as he made another round. During his jog, he got a good look at the training grounds. It had white sand, plenty of practice dummies' for hitting. At least that's what he assumed they were for. There was a wall with round targets, a water barrel and a fighting ring. On one wall under the edge of the roof were racks of weapons that were all different sizes. The sticks appeared to be representing weapons.
He knew what swords looked like and had seen a spear before. Some of them were odd, and he guesses some could be wooden pikes? The long ones were spears, even he knew that. After 20 laps around the course, his lungs burned, and his clothes stuck to his skin. It wasn't until lap fifty that his legs grew weak, and he thought his heart would burst from his chest. Reskeme had to walk the last few laps because Terrance, the sadistic asshole. The man wouldn't let him stop until he did the full one hundred.
"Take 5 minutes to get a drink of water, then go over to the ring over there," Terrance said, gesturing to a ring at one end of the yard.
I got my own gesture for ya dickhead!!' Reskeme thought angrily. It took him a minute to get enough strength to make his way over to the barrel to get some water. He could have cried at how good the cold water felt on his hot skin and parched lips. The other students, or training dummies. Were still at their daily chores while also trying to stare at me at the same time. He couldn't be that odd-looking, could he?' Reskeme asked himself curiously.
Not wanting to dwell anymore on the subject, Reskeme shrugged it off and went back to drinking the divine water. The water must have been sent from the Deity of life herself. Reskeme stare into the sky, wondering how long until the sun rose. Early in the morning, the water was still icy cold, and other than quenching his thirst, it helped cool his body from all the running.
He hoped his legs would stop trembling, because he wanted to beat Terrance with a stick until the man died. The dickhead had said he was going to give Reskeme a training stick for practice. So he couldn't get mad if Reskeme vented his own frustrations. It couldn't be too hard to sword fight, right? After all, you just need to hold one end and hit them with the other.
How could he get his revenge? Maybe he could beat in Terrance's face, it couldn't be that hard. Fantasizing how good it would be, Reskeme made his way over to the fighting circle. Terrance was waiting with two sticks, standing in the center of the circle.
"Have you ever used a sword before?" Terrance asked, face blank as a stone.
Reskeme shook his head. Terrance let out a frustrated sigh before handing Reskeme one stick. The Stick was heavy and wobbled as he tried to swing it around. Taking a few test swings, Reskeme almost fell right on his ass, not being used to the weight.
"Are you ready?" Terrance asked calmly.
With a stick in hand, Reskeme said, "Yes!"
Terrance moved in, his sword at his side one moment, the next moment slamming into Reskemes thigh. He saw the blow coming, but his body couldn't react in time and it struck him hard. Smack!
"Ow! Crap, That Hurt!!" Reskeme shouted, wincing as he stumbled out of Terrance's reach.
Terrance didn't let up. Instead, the sadistic bastard lunged forward and struck out once more. The sword sending fiery pain through Reskeme's body every time it struck. Reskeme kept trying to dodge or block, but Terrance treated him as though he was a child.
Reskeme was starting to think Terrance was a sadist. The man smirked at him, Terrance must get joy from abusing him. Reskeme scowled from a hit to his leg, using his stick to get back to his feet. Watching, he waited for any sign of movement.
"Why aren't you telling me how to use the sword?" Reskeme asked, wanting to know what the hell this lesson was supposed to be. Terrance smiled broadly.
"I am teaching you how to fight. If you cannot block the swing, you get hit! You will get better or you will get hit, it's as simple as that." said Terrance unapologetic.
"A tip that might help you, would be to spread your legs apart more. And hold the sword with both hands." Terrance said.
Reskeme adjusted his stance and grip, Terrance was actually being helpful?
The sadist moved towards Reskeme again, swinging at his side. Reskeme tried to bring his stick up to block, but missed once again. As well as the next ten strikes to his body. Terrance didn't let up, maneuvering around him, beating him methodically.
Reskeme gasped for breath, glaring at the being of his momentary hatred. He had failed to block or get a single hit on Terrance after ten minutes of trying. Reskeme fell on the sand, scraping his face on the gritty substance. I am a terrible sword fighter, Reskeme thought dejectedly.
"You have no talent with the sword. Your footwork is terrible, and you couldn't hit an elephant if it was standing still." Terrance said, frowning.
Reskeme gritted his teeth at the sewer rat's words.
"Oh Really? What was your first clue? I have never held one before, nor has anyone ever given me training advice!" Reskeme said panting and glaring daggers at Terrance.
"I have fought before, I just choose to fight in the shadows, and not fighting head-on like some moron!" Reskeme said, as he held his aching shoulder.
Terrance must be an idiot as he didn't reply to the insult.
"You're one of those kinds of fighters, one who only stabs people in the back?" Terrance said sneering.
Reskeme smirked at his comment. This was a dark guild, a knife to the kidney or a busted skull was commonplace in the slums if one was not careful.
"Well, that is enough of the sword," Terrance said, moving over to the weapons rack.
"You need reach, and something that won't make people look twice at you. It would be a real problem if someone tried to arrest you for carrying a weapon." Terrance said casually.
Reskemes looked over the rack. Terrance picked up a long staff with a wooden blade that bent back towards him with a small curve at the top.
The blade was as long as Reskemes elbow to his wrist. It was a head taller than him, standing just taller than Terrance. Terrance held out the weapon to Reskeme.
"This weapon is a Naginata. It is extremely versatile. You can hide the blade by wearing it on your back with a scabbard, or putting the blade in a sling with a cover." said Terrance.
Reskeme took the wooden spear in both hands. It was lightweight and balanced as far as could tell. The sadist Terrance eyed him as he swung it around. This made Reskeme extremely uncomfortable. He tried different grips to figure how to block. After a few jabs in the air, Reskeme felt as though he could block with this. It felt comfortable, like the long stuck he had used to scare away feral cats in the alleys.
Terrance attacked once again, this time with a low slash. Reskeme only just blocked the glancing strike, softening the blow and lessening the pain of the strike. He smiled at Terrance in victory, which was a mistake. Terrance moved in faster than before, striking at his chest with a lunge. It knocked the air from his chest, forcing Reskeme back.
" Did you fight old ladies on the streets? Because your attacks make me think they would win." said Tarrance.
Gasping, Reskeme tried to recover and attack. After another ten minutes of Terrance attacking him, Reskeme panted, wincing at the many pains across his body. Terrance changed things up a bit. Every time he blocked an attack and tried to counter, Terrance would mix up his fighting style. Making it very difficult to predict what he was going to do.
" Im wondering if you are trying to get hit? I could swear you are jumping in the way." said Terrance.
Reskeme snarled, he focused, ignoring the taunting. On the bright side of things, Reskeme could now block one in ten swings. Reskeme was thinking this was just an excuse to beat him!! His legs groaned and shook as he stumbled from another hit. He felt like the straw punching bag looks! Reskeme sighed at the slight break. Gasping, Reskeme collapsed. breathing deeply and trying to shake out his stinging hands.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone