Ramblings

Within the halls of the swordsman academy in Izlude, the third door to the right of the stairwell led to the quarters of one of the more infamous teachers in the school. Sir Relzon Elraxen taught the soon-to-be swordsmen the way of provoking. His reputation as knight was often whispered about in the hallways. Rumors were common among the novices that he had been involved in the infamous "girls in a barrel" incident over at Morroc decades ago and injuries from that time forced him to retire to the more sedentary life of teaching. His appearance seemed to give testament to that. He had the tanned skin of a morrocan but his bright, coppery hair, cropped to a few inches, hinted of a comodan in his bloodline. His most prominent feature was his long, hooked nose that hung from his face like an extra appendage. No one wanted to laugh about it. He was an expert in the skill he taught. A slight comment on his nose and he would expose every pimple you had on your body and then make people believe that they were the mere tip of a gigantic ice berg. He had haggardness about him; a man who had served as a knight for many years, but he also had a wild look in his dark brown eyes. Those sunken orbs did look like they belonged to someone who would be involved with the "girls in a barrel" incident. As a teacher, he was known for his unorthodox teaching style, though he claimed that if more teachers taught provocation they would realize that it was the norm. He yelled obscenities to make an Albertan sailor blush and threatened to hurl erring students out the windows. Then he would launch into stories or tirades in order to prove a point. His very few students would claim that if you listened closely enough, you always found something useful even in his more inane ramblings.

Perhaps his most curious habit came in the form of the small bulletin board he had in front of his quarters. Every end of every other week, he would have something posted there. Sometimes it would just be greetings for a passerby.

"Hi there. Thanks for reading. "

Or an incomprehensible message seemingly left for a specific person.

"I warned you about using goat cheese. The Grand Wizard Commander has muscle pain every fifth of the month."

A list would also make an appearance, often about nothing.

I hereby propose a new set of names for the skills we teach seeing as these novices get all sorts of ridiculous notions as to what they're for.

Bash – Hit really hard

One-handed sword mastery – Hit really well with swords

Two-handed sword mastery – Hit really well with big swords

Magnum Break – Make an explosion

Endurance – Run while taking a beating

Recovery – Patch yourself up

Provoke – piss someone off

And these revisions should be sent to the capital

Pecopeco riding – Get on a peco

Cavalier mastery – Fight on a peco

Pierce – Poke something big

Spear Stab – Push someone back with a spear

Spear boomerang (whoever came up with this horribly misleading name should have been strung up!) – Throw a spear

Brandish Spear – Hit everyone with a spear

Spear Mastery – Hit really well with spears

Counterattack – Hit back

Two-hand quicken – Hit really fast with big swords

Bowling bash – Hit everyone with a big sword

Once in a while he would leave a message that actually got several novices reading and studying it carefully.

"Dealing with a mage

People often accuse us swordsmen of being constantly angry people and that we resort to violence without thinking. I disagree. We're not so much constantly angry as we are "inclined to action" and we do a lot of thinking before we act. In fact, we are such a cautious lot that, while we were still babes in our mothers' arms, while the rest of the babies bawled for milk, we were already thinking through our responses to different situations. We just happened to decide that violence was a perfectly reasonable answer to most of those different situations. Hey, that's why we became swordsmen.

Of course there are times when a swordsman really does get angry. Nothing crawls down his craw like a man in a dress (DON'T LET THEM CONVINCE YOU THEY'RE ROBES! THERE'S ONLY ONE KIND OF ROBE AND YOU'LL FIND THOSE IN ANY DECENT BATHROOM!) twiddling fingers and mouthing gibberish at him. Given the burning explosion, freezing or electrocution at the end of that ridiculous and convoluted ritual, it is perfectly natural for a swordsman to take it very personally. As if that specific mage had sneaked into his house while he was away and taken a peek at his little sister while she bathed.

Should you find yourself being targeted by such an individual, keep in mind that this man has singled you out among your fellows for a horrible and disfiguring torrent of magic (and they say we swordsmen are violent). Do not feel guilty about the abuse you are about to heap on his skinny frame. First of all, don't panic even though it looks like you won't reach him in time to stop his first spell. Grab something handy and solid, you will often find one sitting on top of your head in the form of your helmet. A nearby vase or a rock will do just fine. Should you be so unfortunate as to find none of those, a stinging epithet can often do the trick (then you'll be thanking me for those lessons!) Knock their first spell out with a ringer on their head and close in. Don't forget to thank your teachers for making you run around the academy to build your speed! Once you have brought the battle to your terms, you may remind him that it is difficult to concentrate on spells with swollen lips, broken fingers and missing teeth. Peek at my little sister, will you!

But the most popular of his "ramblings" had come to the attention of the head knight himself, who had the post taken and posted permanently by the novice dorms to be seen and understood by all. Sir Relzon didn't seem to notice what had happened.

During my time on duty I had pretty much visited every major city on Rune-Midgard. Not really a boast, mind you, as the acolytes did all the warping and all I really saw of those cities were the insides of their cheapest inns and the occasional barracks. However, I did become acquainted to the fact that many people hold preconceptions about us. I suppose they hold plenty for everything. You too, will doubtlessly encounter these judgments. When you do encounter them, take some time in remembering my words before you either prove them right or crack their skulls for being a wise-ass.

Swordsmen are stupid – no doubt, a mage will tell you this and he'll be seated back, holding a fat book as if it was a monument to his supremacy. I will admit that we swordsmen don't have the mental capacity that mages do because, if we did, we'd be mages too. But being able to carry a sword and knowing how to swing it are two different things and sticking words in your head with hardly an idea how to put them to use is pretty much the same. We swordsmen can be smart; we just happen to be a bit more action-oriented. But that doesn't mean we don't take a learned approach to our methods. A mage will stupidly call it a kick to the knee, we know, however that it's "fracturing the patella". They're the ones who'll call it "clobbering the head" while we understand it more as "blunt trauma to the temporals". Of course we only call them that while theorizing with fellow swordsmen who have the brains for it so the fools never find out.

Swordsmen are slow – no doubt, a thief will tell you this while he's passing his knife from left hand to right, thinking he's very dexterous. Our movements are not slow, they are measured. Unlike certain, wasteful little bastards we have an awareness of our reserves of stamina. We don't go cart wheeling about just because someone makes a little stabbing motion. We also have the patience to take things in a relaxed manner. The next time some brown-coated fool calls you slow and you're not in danger of being gutted from behind, you may take off the sixty pounds of metal you wear all day and challenge him to a foot race. He'll be eating your dust after the first mile if he's not slinking away in shame.

Swordsmen have nothing at long range – no doubt, an archer will tell you this while making a futile attempt to impress you with his marksmanship. Inform this person that, while we may not be specialized with their glorified bits of stringed wood, we have various tricks and tactics to bring the fight up close and personal and a cold piece of steel to gut is more painful than, say, getting conked on the head with that twig he's toting about. If getting close is not quite an option, a swordsman can count on his practiced arm to have plenty of throwing power and he'll always have some nearby ammunition such as those found in this list.

Helmet

Sword

Stones

Severed body parts

Household items

Choice words

Swordsmen are irreverent – no doubt, an acolyte will tell you this and then ask why you don't attend all the masses he does or why rely too much on your sword-arm. As a deeply religious man, I take special offense to this remark. Swordsmen can be just as pious as acolytes. In fact, we hold God in such awe and respect that we wouldn't dream of asking for his help over piddling things. The forces of evil pissing you off? God gave you your fist to deal with it. If that's not enough, he gave you fingers to grip a sword. Imagine having ten children tugging at your sleeve for every splinter or scraped knee. Imagine there's a thousand of them and you'll have a very miniscule idea of what God deals with on a daily basis.

There are more, of course, lots more. Besides protecting the capital's interests, you'll find that finding these and dealing with them to be part of a swordsman's purpose in life.

As part of his order to move the rambling note to the novice quarters, the head knight had strict orders never to let the note's existence be known to members of other professions. "They wouldn't understand." He said. "They'd take it personally, as if Sir Relzon had snuck into their homes and peeked at their little sisters while they bathed." He had added with a slight smile. The note remains within the academy up to the present.