Dawn had not yet filtered through the forest canopy, when a lone
figure came down the forest path, deep in the Serenwilde. The young lobo
warrior walked easily, outfitted with leather practice armor and carrying a
travel pack. His feet made little noise as he walked, but someone was waiting
for him anyway. His eyes caught the blur of the first missile, and he
instinctively twisted away from it. It bounced harmlessly off his shoulder,
quickly followed by a second, but by the third pinecone, he had both swords
out, and flicked it out of the air easily.
"Thias!" He called up into the branches, "Get down here!"
"Barking up the wrong tree, Ven? You should have learned by now."
Vendashan turned quickly. The amused voice came from the elfen resting
nonchalantly in the crook of an oak, calmly picking apart the fourth pinecone,
and letting the seeds spin away into the forest. "I didn't think you'd manage
to block the third, that was fairly fast work. For a lobo." Thias smirked
down on the scowling warrior below him.
"Its time spent with you that's made me faster, you sneaking little
prankster. Do you intend to grow up anytime soon?" Vendashan asked, ears back
with irritation. The elfen warrior leapt easily out of the oak, landing softly
with one hand down. He stood up in front of Ven with a somewhat aggrieved
expression.
"But Ven, that's what makes life interesting. You're always there
to help me get in trouble, anyway. Don't you think we should get going to the
meeting?"
Ven studied the smaller warrior for a moment, then shrugged, ears
relaxing to their normal position. "Alright little man, you win. Let's go."
The two began walking down the trail, heading farther into the southwestern
fringe of the Serenwilde. "We wouldn't want to be late and let the Trainer
make examples of us."
Thias gave an elaborate shudder. "Yeah, if you join the Rangers,
you're expected to be serious about it."
"Aren't we serious?" Ven asked, "We joined the clan to learn
advanced combat from the best. Can you think of anyone in our group or in the
Viridian Rangers as a whole who isn't really trying?"
"If I were to name anyone, it'd be me." Thias replied. "I mess
around to much."
They had reached a fork in the trail, and Thias started angling to
the right. Ven shrugged, "And yet, you manage to keep up with the rest of us.
And Thias," Ven reached over and picked up his companion by the back of his
jacket and placed him on the left fork, "The clearing's that way."
Thias attempted to straighten both his ruffled jacked and pride.
"Of course it is, I have to make sure you stay awake, don't I?"
Ven motioned for him to hurry. "I can hear the others, move it."
"What makes you think your ears are better than mine? I can hear a
leaf drop a mile…" Thias paused, head tilted.
Ven patted him on the shoulder. "The difference is, I listen. Now
keep moving."

***
Vendashan hit the loamy floor of the forest with a dull thud, and
lay stunned for a moment. Trainer Garret poked the young lobo hard in the ribs
with his staff, "Get up boy, the earth's your friend, not your lover."
Vendashan quickly rolled to his feet, spitting out leaves and retrieving his
practice swords. The other students had formed a circle to watch him and Thias
spar. They laughed quietly, though they would remember the Trainer's words, for
he often spoke hard truths in jest, and expected them to remember.
"Never," Garret continued as the two students faced off again, "Let
the enemy catch you on the ground. The only ones who won't take advantage of
you are your friends, and only about half of them." He watched as Vendashan
and Thias circled each other, looking for openings.
"Come on Ven, you said you could beat me, what happened?" Thias
taunted. Ven lunged, using his left hand sword to parry the other's twin
blades aside and striking out with the right at the other man's legs, but the
smaller, nimbler Elfen scampered around him and hooked an ankle, tripped him
again. Ven fell to one knee and stayed there, watching the elf circle him.
Just as Thias changed direction, Ven launched himself from the ground, ramming
his shoulder into the smaller man's stomach and sending him flying.
As both fell back into a ready stance the Combat Trainer separated
them. The students surrounding them tensed, waiting for him to begin. The
Trainer usually demonstrated something, and then began to elaborate the lesson.
Few enough would understand the first time, but they would get it, one by one.
"Why did you join the Rangers, Serenguard?" He asked one of the
onlookers.
"To learn to fight better, Sir" came the quick reply.
"Right, now that I know this group can handle their equipment, and
won't wilt if I work them a little bit, I can start teaching you the big
lessons, and here's one of them, so listen up."
"Now," he began, "Both of you have some of the right idea. As for
Ven, you know where power in a blow comes from." He cocked an eye at the other
students, "Well?"
"The shoulders?" ventured one of the other Unblooded, newly
graduated from novice hood.
"Nope." The Trainer pointed at Ven.
"The ground, Sir."
"Yes, with any blow, power travels up your body from the ground.
It is you thrusting against the ground that gives your blows any authority.
The strength in your shoulders only guides a blow started elsewhere. Now,
Thias is using his arms and shoulders for control well, and his feet for
moving, but none of his blows are difficult to block. Whereas if he had to
parry Ven's strokes, instead of dodging them, he would be in trouble. They are
using different combat stances. What you need to develop are the three areas of
combat, so that you can generate effective force, guide it to a critical target,
connect and recover quickly. These are the three characteristics of any attack,
and I expect you to study them."
The tall human looked to make sure that all of his students were
paying attention. "Power, accuracy and speed. They are the essence of every
strike. Once you have mastered them, and can blend them in any measure you
wish, I will teach you the combat stances, and when to use them. To move like
lightning, always where your enemy expects you not, landing your blows quickly,
never worrying about the ones that you miss, but focusing on the points you
should strike. To fight emphasizing the offence, when you seek to overwhelm
the opponent in a moment of weakness, or to fight defensively, when you need to
guard and recuperate, waiting for your moment to strike. These I will teach
you, after you have mastered the basis of all combat."
"The three principles apply to any part of conflict, from one
strike, to an engagement between many, to the many engagements of a war.
Combined with time each essence takes on a new form. Power becomes Combat
Power, the amount of strength that is available at that place and at that time,
and how that strength grows or deteriorates as it is used. This applies to one
combatant, and his resources, or a group, and their pooled resources."
"Speed, with time, becomes tempo, how quickly you can deliver the
next blow, and the next. Both speeds are important, the speed of one strike,
and the speed to the next. They who strike first have an advantage, and they
who maintain a higher tempo gain another. Neglect either at your peril."
"Accuracy, with time and numbers becomes cohesion, or the amount of
power brought home to the critical weaknesses and objectives. Without cohesion,
any attack will fail against an organized defense. You must target your strikes
at consistent objectives, in accordance with your overall desires. You can
destroy a foe's will to resist, or his resources to fight you, or merely delay
him to achieve a larger objective. Whatever your goal, you must bring your
resources into cohesion with that goal in mind, or your efforts are dissipated
and worthless."
"So, I want you all to remember this, because it is the basis for
every lesson hereafter, and every engagement as well. Keep the three
principles in mind, analyze each move, and decide whether it is furthering your
objective, or was a waste of resources, which could have been better employed
elsewhere."
"There's a simple way to say this, and I know that you want me to
give you a simple way to do everything," here he paused, while the class leaned
forward hopefully. "This is the way I heard it, when I was your age. Hit the
other fellow, as quick as you can, and as hard as you can, where it hurts him
most, when he isn't looking. That is the one principle of war that you need to
learn, and it will take most of your lives to learn it."
He looked around the class, a tall old man, gnarled and scared with
years and memories. "After you've learned that, there's my own add-on to that
statement to learn. After you've done hitting the other fellow, watch his
bloody counterstroke!" The class laughed, and the spell of the moment was
broken. The Trainer barked orders, and the class divided up into skirmishing
pairs to practice their newest lesson.
***

After the training session, the students in the Viridian Rangers
dispersed back into the forest. Thias and Ven packed up their gear together.
"What are you off to do?" Ven asked.
"I thought I'd go on pixie patrol, see if any had lost their way
and needed to be guided back to the Flame and Mother."
Ven finished tying his pack up. "Feeling extra responsible because
of the Trainer's speech?"
Thias hefted his pack to his shoulders. "Maybe, but the gold never
hurts. I really need to have my armor seen to. Not all of us are as naturally
resistant as you loboshigaru. We need to pay more attention to keeping
ourselves intact."
"Well," Ven replied, "If you're worried, why don't you try to stay
out of trouble more often?"
"Ven, I said ‘stay intact' not ‘stay safe'. What fun would you have
without a little adventure?"
"None at all. Which is why I'm planning a little trip into the
Razines. I've been packing in the supplies. Care to come along two days from
now?" Ven watched his smaller companion from the corner of his eye, waiting for
the reaction.
"What?!," Thias exploded, "You waited to tell me now? Sure I'll
come. But I gotta go if I'm to be ready." He started frantically searching
through his pack, checking what he would need.
Ven smiled and said, "Alright, but you might want to get started on
that patrol." Thias nodded and started hurrying off to the east. "Don't let
the rabbits get you Elfen!" Ven yelled after him. A shaken fist was the only
response he got.
Ven shouldered his pack and started of on a more southerly tack,
heading for the nearest bend of the Moon River. He might catch a few fish to
supplement the supplies he already had. As he walked he started to wonder how
he had ever fallen in with a jumpy little elfen like Thias. Life before he had
volunteered for the Serenguard had been fairly insular. His pack had roamed the
Serenwilde, but only rarely had they moved into the more frequently traveled
places like the Alabaster road, and even more rarely visited the Commune
itself. But now he had thrown in his lot with the Serenguard, and found
himself rubbing shoulders with Aslarans, Humans and the Elfen, as well as the
rarer Krokani, Faeling and Trill. His pack sense had changed too. Before, his
loyalties had been clear cut, but now they were muddled. He was no longer sure
where he belonged, or how he fit in.
Ven's head snapped up, ears pricking. He had heard something that
made the fur on his neck prick. The cry was repeated, and this time he could
discern the pain in it. Vendashan began to run, lightly and quickly, his large
form stretching out into the terrifying hunting lope characteristic of his kind.
Eyes and ears forward, he dashed through the trees, leaping over tangles of
roots, slipping through brush, and dipping under the odd branch. Most of this
part of the Serenwilde was old growth, and he moved rapidly between the massive
trunks of the silent trees. As he ran, he brought his hands up before him,
concentrating. For a moment, a great bear seemed to surround him, as he called
the great totem spirit to him. Strength surged through his veins as the spirit
responded, adding its power to his. Next, the image of a running wolf
shimmered in the air, as that totem spirit came, guarding against fear and
urging him on. His Spirits assembled, Ven drew his twin longswords from their
sheathes under his pack and ran with them in a reversed grip, to keep them from
catching on brush or branches.
He leaped into the clearing, in the shade of a mighty Moonhart tree,
daughter of the Mother Tree. His eyes flashed from the wounds in the silver
bark, to the broken and bleeding body of Thias, which lay next to a massive
viscanti warrior, who had been about to retrieve his axe and renew his assault
on the Moonhart tree. He stopped, looking up at Ven with irritation written
across his snarling face and bony brow. Ven stalked into the open space under
the tree, swords ready. Thias appeared to still be breathing, though his
lifeblood continued to pump out onto the grass from several savage wounds on
his chest.
Ven circled around the viscanti, watching him. He felt no need to
talk, no need to challenge. His declared enemy was before him, causing
slaughter in his forest, and there was only one response necessary. The other
warrior dropped the axe and drew a great bloodstained katana from its sheath,
balancing it easily in both hands. His eyes burned in a skull-like face
beneath the bony crest that was his forehead, surmounted by small, curved
horns. The black monolith of Magnagora was etched on his armor.
His voice grated out of his throat, laced with venom. "Another fly
come to bother me. Go home, Seren, or I will kill you as easily as you
friend."
Ven continued to circle around him, forcing the larger being to
pivot his stance. "You came here, but you won't leave again. We don't stop."
Under cover of his words, he released a small vial of healing potion, letting
fall down his right leg and then flicking it at Thias with a small twitch of
one clawed foot. The vial flew true, and landed next to the hands of the
wounded elf, who lay sprawled at the foot of the tree.
"That doesn't concern me, if all that come are weak, like you." The
viscanti charged, katana low and to his right, ready to come around with all his
momentum behind it. Ven launched himself out of the way, then came back in,
almost behind the larger warrior on his left, striking out for hip and
shoulder, but the big man pivoted gracefully, his blade coming up and around
like a striking viper, flicking Ven's swords aside easily, then coming back for
his head with a wicked backslash.
Ven rolled back under the attack, coming up at the ready. His
greater speed could not overcome the other's superior skill. He was obviously
facing a master Pureblade. The two large knights clashed twice more, and each
time the Seren's attacks were deflected, while he barely dodged the deadly arc
of the other's massive curved blade.
"You're gonna die, Seren. Back off, why fight a losing battle? Why
face it when it's worthless?" the Magnagoran taunted him.
Ven felt something shift inside him. His pack sense rose up,
crystallizing, encompassing the entire Serenwilde. In an instant, he saw the
entire forest and all that called it home before him. From the Great Spirits
and Gods who watched from above, to the smallest squirrel, and youngest tree,
they called to him. This was his home, his pack, his loyalty and life. He
looked up at the other warrior, breathing hard. "Because… It's Important. We
stand for Serenwilde, and the Serenwilde protects us."
He launched himself back towards the other, recklessly seeking to
get inside his guard, twin blades flashing. A small tug and a dull ache
alerted him as the katana's tip cleanly sliced into his shoulder, passing
through his armor easily. The two twisted, moving with each other, struggling
for advantage. Vendashan sent a small prayer winging up into the Serenwilde
‘Help Me…' as he stayed with the now retreating viscanti. Suddenly a great
timberwolf bounded out of nowhere, coiled its legs beneath it and launched
itself into the air. In slow motion, both warriors watched it come, to fast
for them to alter their momentum. The katana came down, parrying Ven's last
weak strike, as the wolf came up, jaws open. The viscanti tried to jerk back,
twisting away, and the wolf's teeth snapped shut, opening a long shallow wound
along his neck. The words of the Trainer rang in Ven's ears. ‘Hit the other
fellow,' His right hand sword drew back. ‘as quick as you can, and as hard as
you can,' He set his feet and lunged, sword extending. ‘where it hurts him
most,' The sword pierced home just below the other warrior's raised arm,
slipping through weak armor over his armpit. ‘when he isn't looking.'
The viscanti froze, with a foot of steel piercing his heart, and
looked back at Vendashan with astonishment in his dimming eyes. With a
wordless gurgling cry, he wrenched around, jerking Vendashan's sword from his
grip, and brought his blade crashing down on his killers shoulder. The blade
bit deep with the sickening snap of bone, and almost as one, the two warriors
fell. The last words of the Trainer whispered in his ears as he sprawled over
the roots of the Moonhart tree. ‘watch his bloody counterstroke!' A sad smile
touched the lobo's lips, as he prepared himself to meet the Fates. The katana
had come out, caught in the death grip of the viscanti, but had smashed down
into the top of his ribcage first. He caughed blood, and settled further into
the bloody haze, the blazing pain in his shattered shoulder the center of his
universe. The fragments of bone in his shoulder ground against each other,
moved by some unseen force. His left hand clenched in agony, shattering the
vial of healing it had instinctively grasped.
It came to Vendashan that he was not actually dying. It generally
didn't take this long, or hurt this much. He opened his eyes, and watched the
silver glow that wrapped the roots of the Moonhart tree seep into his shoulder,
rejoining shattered bone and severed muscle. After what felt like eternity, he
staggered upright, looking back at the other fallen warriors. Thias was moving
slowly, the bleeding halted, the healing begun, Ven's vial clasped in one hand.
He would live. Vendashan walked over to the viscanti. His eyes were blank and
dark, skimmed over by the shadow of death.
Vendashan straightened, looking out at the silent Serenwilde where
the wolf had vanished, its job completed. ‘Thank you.' His eyes traced the
shadowed depths of his home. ‘I am Serenguard. I stand ready.'