"Hmm, Miss Imma?"
Looking up from feeding the chickens, Immalaine studies the man standing at the edge of the yard before responding. " 'ello, ye must be Sir Grenwolf."
Grenwolf gives a nod "That's right, you remember me?"
As she considers his presence, she reaches in and grabs an egg from the coop, while the birds are distracted by the feed, adding it to a small basket in her hand. "Well, got four today, not so bad." she smiles to herself, before turning her attention back to Grenwolf. "Lady Zandrianna pointed ye out to me at the Pony, I recall."
He takes a few more steps onto the property, nodding as he speaks. "That's right. I recall we spoke briefly as well. I've been sent here to help you practice in self-defence."
"Lady Zandrianna said as much t' me. She takes t' worrying alot sometimes, though I reckon I promised her I'd listen t' ye." Setting the basket of eggs down by the coop, she straightens up and looks at Grenwolf curiously. "What 'xactly am I gone be learning? Lady Zandrianna, she weren't sure as she says she's no warrior herself."
Grenwolf crosses his arms in front of his scratched, dented, and worn chestplate. The rest of his armor doesn't seem to have fared much better. He turns his head off to the side and spits onto the ground, clearing his mouth before looking back to Immalaine. "We'll start with the real basic stuff. How to move properly in the type of armor you prefer. Defending yourself ain't all about weapon work. You gotta learn how to avoid taking a hit, or how to let your armor take the brunt of the damage instead of you. You move differently in plate than you would in say leather or cloth armours. A lot of people don't know how to properly take a hit, and you will take a hit in a fight."
"A'right." Immalaine nods, watching Grenwolf carefully as she listens to him speak.
As Grenwolf takes a step closer, he unslings his sword from his back, keeping the sheath on the blade. "Now, since you're in leather gear, if you were to stand rigid and take a hit, a blade would cut right through it, and a blun weapon would... well I won't go into detail but it'd be pretty traumatic."
Immalaine opens her mouth as she stares at the sword, swallowing, but nods as she gets Gren's point. "I ... I reckon it'd not be pretty, that ..."
"What you do instead is move with the blow. This decreases the force at which the weapon strikes you. You then have to roll your body away from the weapon, allowing it to glance off of you as best you can."
Her mouth pursed, she furrows her brow, "So what yer sayin' is I got to move in th' same direction as what's comin' at me, so mebbe it dun hit me so hard?" She scratches at her neck, as she considers this.
Grenwolf gives a slight nod. he ties the sheathe's strap around his sword's crossguard, ensuring that the sheathe does not come loose. "That's the idea. If you were wearing plate like me, you'd purposefuly take the hit on the thickest and most rigid part of your armor if possible, interrupting the flow of your attacker. With your kit, best thing is to try and not get hit at all, but when it happens, and it will happen. You move with your attacker. Bend like a reed in the wind, don't stand like a pillar. You'll have to always be moving."
"Like one o' them rushes in th' swamp then."
He raises his sword above his head in a high guard. His right hand near the blade, his left hand gripping the pommel. "Exactly, you ready to begin?"
Immalaine looks up at the blade, eyeing it nervously but nods. "I'm ready sir."
He widens his stance and brings the blade down in a slow, exaggerated manner, his entire body moving with the weapon expertly. The sheathed blade makes contact with her left arm, midway between the shoulder and elbow. "Remember what I said, move with the attack. We're going to go nice and slow at first, let you get used to the idea."
Rubbing her palms against the front of her leather leggings, she almost misses when he starts to swing. Yelping a bit, she jumps a bit to her right, leaning to avoid the sheathed blade.
Grenwolf twists the blade in his hands. The tips of the blade stays more or less in the same area in the air, while he moves the rest of the weapon about over his head. The weapons suddenly changes direction in a wide swing towards her right side. "Good start, just gotta be a bit smoother."
Surprised as he switches direction, Immalaine stumbles a bit, but leans to the left to avoid the blade. "Yer pretty quick fer a fellow wearin' metal. Land's sake, I seen steeds move slower than ye."
Grenwolf lurches his sword back, keeping it level with the ground, slightly above his waist height. "People have the misconception that you can't move right in heavy plate. It's all about momentum and practiced, deliberate movement." then thrusts forwards with his sword, leveling it at Immalaine's gut. "You're doing fine so far, keep at it."
Letting out a squeak as the sword comes at her stomach, she leans back, stumbling as she falls on her butt. "I can see that!" she says, looking up at him with a grin, before scrambling back to her feet.
Grenwolf mirrors the grin somewhat, before bracing his sword on the ground, he rests his arms atop the pommel of the weapon. "You alright? I gotta say you seem to have a latent knack for this."
She brushes the grass off as she looks up at him. "I'm fine. I had worse falls afore." Looking at him carefully, she adds. "Ye think so? I ain't ne'er been anything but a farmer an' cook afore. I reckon I did have t' be quick t' 'void gettin' hit by stuff on th' farm when I were younger."
"Well, by the time I'm through with you, you'll be a proper fighter. Ready to get back to it? This technique I'm teaching you is most effective if you know how to parry your assailant's weapon and riposte properly as well but, that'll be in another lesson."
For the next half hour or so, they go back and forth, the slight young woman and the warrior, as he begins her training to defend herself ...
