Flash Fiction February Day 8 Weapon (Issy)

 Day 8 Weapon:

I’m so glad I decided to go watch Baurus and his attempts to train Martin today. After a rather dismal and hectic week I needed something to make me laugh, and this was just the thing I needed. Disregarding the Sanguine cult business as a teenager Martin had a rather uneventful childhood, and as a result is not exactly the greatest fighter…combine that with him formerly being a priest after the whole Sanguine business came to an end and pre bastard emperor realization and the end results he’s a bit of a pacifist, all in all not steller fighting material, unlike Baurus and I with our advanced training in weapons and techniques of choice. The training is very simple for now, not even using actual swords, or prop swords even, instead Baurus had taken two wooden staffs from the weapons rack for them to use. While Martin is doing better at his technique than he was when I first met him in Kvatch he still needs to improve quite a bit before he becomes a formidable foe. The two of them spar in short sessions with Baurus providing commentary on technique and form from start to finish including hand position, stance, and staff movements. I look on quietly, it seems Baurus is teaching him a form commonly used by the warriors of House Redoran, and I can understand why as the Redoran military is a really rather remarkable force both when sedentary performing guard duties and in times of war. At one point Baurus sweeps Martins legs out from under him, causing him to go falling to the mat. “Alright, I think it's about time for a break.” Baurus tells Martin as he looks down at him, leaning one arm on the end of the staff and takes Martin's staff, putting both of them aside for now. “He’s getting better.” Baurus tells me without looking, and Martin smiles slightly “But you still have a long way to go, your majesty. Currently the threat level of you with a staff is about that of an angry kitten and we need that of a dragon.” Baurus adds with a grin and drinks some water. Martin sits up finally after having sprawled out on the mat for a bit and rolls his eyes. “Not my fault I grew up on a farm.” He tells Baurus “True, it’s your dads and if he was here right now I would respectfully kick his ass too, and if the people of House Dres were able to fight well enough to ally with the Redoran way back when Tiber Septim attempted to invade Morrowind than you can too.” That is one of the oddest forms of a pep talk I’ve ever heard but you know what it works. Some time passes with the three of us chatting, with Baurus asking my professional opinion on a variety of weapons, and Martin being curious as to where and why Baurus knows what he knows outside of Blades training, until eventually it is time to pick things up again. “Here, catch-” Baurus tosses the staff to Martin, though he fails to catch it and gets whacked with it. Baurus as a result simply sighs and puts his hands on his hips “You’re supposed to catch it, Martin.” he tells him. Note to self…wait a little bit to give Martin that enchanted sword I had found…yes, waiting is a good idea, a very good idea, no real weapons for now.