[ He has been very lucky to stumble into Marcoulf's tutelage. It becomes clear within the first few minutes of their exchange that Marcoulf de Ricart knows exactly what he's doing and Ellis should be grateful a chance scribble on in his book attracted his attention.
As suspected, this is not an easy art for him to learn. It's a different way of using his body, and it relies on the poorly-healed, clumsy fingers of his left hand. There are moments when he would be free to ask for reprieve, but he never does. This momentary break, clash of blades giving way to instruction allow for Ellis to step back, take a deep breath and shift his grip on the hilt of borrowed dagger as he absorbs the direction. ]
I'd have thought the issue lay in my fumbling over getting the dagger out, long before my shoulder was ever involved.
[ Marcoulf is faster. Logic says a beginner cannot hope to match their teacher so quickly, but Ellis is still very aware of the failing. ]
[He's very spare with the fine silvered rapier throughout - plays mostly off the parrying dagger, which is good because it's what they're here for. Even still, it's an odd way of fighting. What swordsman uses his long blade to redirect, and his off hand dagger to strike?]
Your hand is attached to your arm.
[Which might almost be a joke; he's as mild in this as he is walking Ellis through the combination. Laissez faire about--]
Broken, [ Ellis returns placidly, punctuated by the muted tack-tack-tack of metal meeting metal. His breath puffs white in the air between them as he mirrors Marcoulf. ] I wasn't traveling with a healer, so I had to make due.
[ Glossing over that frantic, agonizing night: Filip dragging him bodily upwards, out of that cave, and the way his hands had been shaking as he attempted to set the break. The details are unimportant; he offers a simple truth instead. His hand was broken. He made due. ]
You're a patient teacher.
[ Whose technique Ellis is not one to question. The strangeness of Marcoulf's approach has clearly served him well. Who is Ellis to object over his form? ]
[ There's a breathless flash of a grin, even as said knife is twisted out of his hand. ]
Do you never wish to have something in reserve?
[ For a long time, Ellis hasn't. It hadn't mattered to him then, but enough has shifted that he finds it necessary to learn at least one new trick. ]
And I need a challenge.
[ Kirkwall does not offer the same visceral challenge that surviving on his own, in the wild and against darkspawn, had done. Ellis doesn't expect Marcoulf to measure up against all that, but being outmatched in a new field comes close enough to what he's missing. ]
Is Warden von Skraedder aware of your boredom? [A sidelong look - some flash of dark humor as he leans down to fetch the fallen knife.] She might have some resolution that doesn't involve having your fingers nicked to pieces.
[ Most of which possibly involve Ellis walking his way off a cliff. He takes the opportunity to stretch out his fingers again, shake the ache from his hand before accepting the knife back from Marcoulf. ]
But I also think she prefers I take some initiative in how I occupy my time.
[ Or more truthfully: Teren doesn't think of him at all. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ayyyyyyy
As suspected, this is not an easy art for him to learn. It's a different way of using his body, and it relies on the poorly-healed, clumsy fingers of his left hand. There are moments when he would be free to ask for reprieve, but he never does. This momentary break, clash of blades giving way to instruction allow for Ellis to step back, take a deep breath and shift his grip on the hilt of borrowed dagger as he absorbs the direction. ]
I'd have thought the issue lay in my fumbling over getting the dagger out, long before my shoulder was ever involved.
[ Marcoulf is faster. Logic says a beginner cannot hope to match their teacher so quickly, but Ellis is still very aware of the failing. ]
no subject
Your hand is attached to your arm.
[Which might almost be a joke; he's as mild in this as he is walking Ellis through the combination. Laissez faire about--]
What happened to it? To your fingers.
no subject
[ Glossing over that frantic, agonizing night: Filip dragging him bodily upwards, out of that cave, and the way his hands had been shaking as he attempted to set the break. The details are unimportant; he offers a simple truth instead. His hand was broken. He made due. ]
You're a patient teacher.
[ Whose technique Ellis is not one to question. The strangeness of Marcoulf's approach has clearly served him well. Who is Ellis to object over his form? ]
no subject
Mind your shoulder again.
[The tang-tang of ringing metal punctuates it. After some series of combinations, some clucking corrections:]
Why use a knife? Your mace seems to suit just fine.
[Someone regularly loiters in the training yard.]
no subject
Do you never wish to have something in reserve?
[ For a long time, Ellis hasn't. It hadn't mattered to him then, but enough has shifted that he finds it necessary to learn at least one new trick. ]
And I need a challenge.
[ Kirkwall does not offer the same visceral challenge that surviving on his own, in the wild and against darkspawn, had done. Ellis doesn't expect Marcoulf to measure up against all that, but being outmatched in a new field comes close enough to what he's missing. ]
no subject
no subject
[ Most of which possibly involve Ellis walking his way off a cliff. He takes the opportunity to stretch out his fingers again, shake the ache from his hand before accepting the knife back from Marcoulf. ]
But I also think she prefers I take some initiative in how I occupy my time.
[ Or more truthfully: Teren doesn't think of him at all. ]
Care go again? My fingers are still mostly whole.