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* Jaret is at home. Most of the windows of the house are flung open, to let some of the oppressive heat escape. Jaret is sitting at a writing desk in his study, working on a letter. He's dressed in light cotton shirt and pants, and a sweating glass of tea sits on a coaster on the desk. * Lisl trudges down the lane towards Jaret's, grateful of the scrubby grass between the wagon ruts that keeps down the dust. She's dressed in a plain white linen shirt and her regular grey suede leggings, and carries a long leather case slung over one shoulder. * Lisl ducks her head to wipe her face against the sleeve of her shoulder. "I could've picked a better day for this..." She sighs, hitches up the case's strap a bit, and mounts the steps to knock on Jaret's door. * Jaret looks up as he hears footsteps on his front stairs, and stands as Lisl knocks, putting the quill into the inkpot. He takes a sip of his tea and hurries to the door and opens it. "Good afternoon? Oh, good afternoon, Lisl. Please, come in. I can at least offer shade, if not relief." <Lisl> Shade's welcome, and relief enough, I think, but I imagine my proposal won't be in this weather. ::looks wry as she unslings the case from her shoulder:: How've you been, Jaret? Am I interrupting you in something? <Jaret> ::eyeing the case:: I've been well enough. And I'm writing a letter home, to my father. I haven't gotten very far yet, and I'm already welcome for a respite from it. Can I offer you a glass of chilled tea? <Lisl> ::laughs:: I feel the same with letters to Mother. Probably explains why she gets so few from me... chilled tea would be lovely, thank you. <Lisl> ::curiously:: How do you... get letters home, anyway? Are there... ::small laugh:: ...that is, I imagine Stick's Boys can't carry it that far. <Jaret> This will be the first one I've written since he left, that time he visited. I'm a rather atrocious correspondent. ::he leaves, and returns with a tall, cool glass of tea:: And I'm not sure how to get it there. I figure by the time I get it written, at this rate, he may be back for another visit, and I won't have to worry about it. <Lisl> ::grins:: That's often enough how Mother gets her letters. Or at least... she comes to find out why I've not written her. ::grins:: Perhaps you could ask Zoya. Or Michelle... she's got experience planes-walking, as I understand, although she generally has to wake up in a new body to do it, I think. <Jaret> Zoya sounds like the more reasonable solution. As I understand it, she created a pathway for Kevil and Loria to visit Kevil's home, so... perhaps this would be within her capabilities? ::he looks at the case again:: Would you like to come into the reading room, and take a seat, or do you have something else in mind? <Lisl> Well... ::follows his glance to the case:: I *did.* But given the weather, I'm not sure how much you'd welcome getting even more sweaty, just now. <Jaret> Perhaps to the reading room, then, and we'll give ourselves some time to talk ourselves into whatever activities you had in mind? <Lisl> ::grins:: Fair enough. ::picking up the case by its strap again and gesturing to Jaret to lead the way:: Is the "reading room" the same as the "drawing room," then? ::small frown:: Or is that "study"? You've an awful lot of rooms, Jaret, and I'm afraid I've not been here often enough to get them down in my head. <Jaret> I call my study by many names, for simply that reason. It makes my humble abode sound more like a palace than it is. Drawing room, reading room, study... it serves many purposes. Please, be seated, and rest a moment. <Lisl> ::laughs:: Heck of a lot less humble than *my* place, at any rate. ::chooses a squishy armchair and plunks herself down into it:: Whew. Nowhere near as hot as Alanis or Anauroch, I'll give you, but, well, there's the stench, too... <Lisl> ::takes a swallow of tea, and heaves a pleased sigh at its coolness:: So then... you're probably wondering what's dragged me out of my den in this heat. ::balancing the long case across her knees:: <Jaret> The canals do add a special touch to Marsember in the summer. Fortunately, as far away as I am, it's only the special days that their waftings make it here. And, yes, I was wondering. <Lisl> ::snorts at Jaret's choice of words and leans forward a little, elbows on the case:: Well, I've been thinking about some things, and, well... you were the first person I thought of. <Lisl> And I'm sure you'd be far too gentlemanly to do so anyway, but you have to promise not to laugh when I ask you this. ::gives him a stern look:: <Jaret> Depending on what you were thinking of, I suppose I am honored? <Jaret> And I promise. As long as it's not a deliberately amusing question. <Lisl> Well... ::coloring faintly:: Not *that* deliberately amusing, anyway. ::takes another sip of tea, swallowing hard:: Jaret... would you be willing to train me in swordplay? * Jaret raises an eyebrow and has a sip of tea. "Train you? I didn't think you required any training. Why wouldn't you simply... Perhaps I can combine many questions into one. Why do you feel you need to be trained in the blade?" <Lisl> Well... ::looks faintly embarrassed:: There's sort of a catch. ::grins:: You knew there would be a catch, didn't you? I want to use *this* blade. ::pats the case:: And I know it's enchanted, but I'm not entirely certain what it does, and Mother, da-- er, drat her humor, won't tell me. She says figuring it out for myself will give me better incentive to use it. ::mutters:: You'd think after nearly four hundred years... ::shakes her head:: <Lisl> And... well, certain... events recently have led me to think I've been relying a little too hard on my... natural proclivities, when fighting. <Jaret> Well... she wouldn't give you something that would have any hidden consequences. At least, I hope not. May I see? <Lisl> ::grins a little wickedly:: Consequences for *me*, at least. As for my opponent... heh. Certainly. ::sitting up again and unlatching the case, withdrawing a long object shrouded in dark green oilcloth:: * Lisl unwinds the green oilcloth, revealing a second layer of old and tattered black oilcloth underneath. She looks faintly embarrassed. "This is what it originally came in. I... didn't have the heart to throw them away." * Jaret puts his glass of tea down. <Jaret> I understand. * Lisl unwraps the fragile oilskin gently, slowly revealing the plain, wire-wrapped hilt of a bastard sword in an ancient leather scabbard. The quillons are elegantly curved and gleam softly in the afternoon light slanting into Jaret's study. <Lisl> ::quietly:: It was my father's. Mother sent it to me... oh, about two years ago, now. <Jaret> Ah. It's a fine piece. <Lisl> ::nods and offers Jaret the hilt:: It... sings, when I swing it. Be careful, the blade is *very* keen. <Jaret> I think at this point, we should adjourn to the practice room. <Lisl> ::nods:: Fair enough. ::closes the case, wrappings inside, and slings it back over her shoulder while she carries the sword by its scabbard in one hand and her tea in the other.:: * Jaret picks up his tea and leads the way out of the study, across the foyer, and into his large practice room. Practice weapons and training equipment hangs from the walls. <Lisl> ::chuckles a bit:: Do you have a rule against brandishing swords in other rooms of the house, Jaret? <Jaret> It's not exactly a rule, it's more of a guideline. But I find I have to replace fewer candles, flowers, and other ostensible targets if I keep the weaponry confined here. <Lisl> Ha. Fair enough. Your house, your rules. * Jaret pulls a long, slim table out from against one of the walls and moves it over to Lisl, so she has a stage to set her burden on. <Lisl> ::raises her eyebrows, but sets the case down on the proffered table. She reverses the blade she's carrying and offers the hilt to Jaret, keeping the flat of the blade against her arm. * Jaret takes the hilt in his hand, and holds the sword rock-steady until Lisl moves her arm away. He takes a few steps and then, space established, makes a few practice cuts through the air, feeling for the sword's balance and overall character. <Lisl> ::even with mere practice cuts, the blade sings, keening faintly as it slices the air. The blade, overall, is a little on the heavy side, but its balance is impeccable.:: <Jaret> I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, but it's a marvelous weapon, Lisl. A little larger and heavier than I'm accustomed to, of course. Father would probably have only the highest praise for it. Marvelous. <Lisl> ::nods:: I didn't need Mother to tell me it's enchanted, as well. ::snorts:: For one, an ordinary sword wouldn't sound like *that*. As for how... ::shrugs:: I've not exactly tried to chop wood with it, and I'm hesitant to take it into battle and get a nasty surprise. <Lisl> Mother trained me in longsword, and I gravitated into bastard sword when I was adventuring full-time, so it's comfortable enough to the hand.... But it's been... well, awhile. At best, I'm out of practice. At worst... I've no idea what nasty tricks swordsmanship might've come up with in the last... ::colors faintly:: thirty-forty years or so. I thought you might help me with that. * Jaret closes his eyes and tries a feint out at an imaginary opponent, opens his eyes and spins the sword out in an attack, turning his follow-through into a pommel-strike at the still-fictitious opponent. "Well, I can't tell you more than you already know about this, unfortunately. As to the art of swordplay, I'll be happy to do what I can to get you into the present day." <Lisl> ::nods:: Well, if I want to spoil Mother's fun, I'm sure I could find a sage somewhere who might tell me more about it. Ha-- Zoya or Gloss would probably be happy to pick it apart for me. But, well... learning to rely on a blade as much as on other, ah, pointy bits, will be good for me, I think. Keep me honest. <Lisl> And I wouldn't put it past Mother that that was her whole intention from the beginning.... * Jaret drops his stance and rests the sword back on the table, on top of its wrappings. "Parents. Whenever you're available to start, then, my schedule is open. At least, for the moment." <Lisl> ::nods:: Mine as well. ::cocks her head with a faint grin:: How much of a morning person are you, Jaret? <Jaret> It depends whether or not I'm still awake when it arrives or not. <Lisl> Ha! Fair enough. Well... early or late in the day is best for hunting. The rest of my social calendar is wide open. This time of year... well, perhaps it'd be best when it's not the heat of the day, aye? <Jaret> Indeed. If you wish to meet in the mornings, I will do my best to be available. We may have to take frequent breaks on some mornings, however. <Lisl> ::a smile tugging one corner of her mouth:: For naps? <Jaret> I wouldn't dream of saying the hair of the dog with you so close to lethal armament. <Lisl> ::laughs:: Jaret, I've no wish to make you drill with a hangover. Is there a better time for you? And for that matter, in what way will you allow me to pay you? <Jaret> You are a merciful one. And let's worry about payment when things are all done, and we see what sort of price you've made me pay in this venture. <Lisl> ::raises an eyebrow:: That sounds... ominous. Or is that insurance against my point control? <Jaret> If you crack half my ribs, perhaps I may want to dine on roast boar most of the winter. It's hard to say. <Lisl> Ha! I do my best not to break my teachers, Jaret. <Jaret> Also, it allows me to not have to decide what payment is reasonable until later, by when you may have forgotten about it. <Lisl> ::shakes a finger at Jaret:: You try to forget entirely, and you may find yourself with a new garden path of gold bricks or somesuch. <Lisl> Or... ::cracks her knuckles and grins:: ...a handyman. <Jaret> There are many, many places that deserve gold bricks more than my house. And.. a handyman? Why is that so dire? <Lisl> Because it means you'd have me underfoot. *Fixing* things. <Jaret> Is something broken that I don't know about? <Lisl> ::grins:: Not at the moment. But you do seem to break your house often enough that I'm sure I could find something. <Jaret> I don't break it. Dragons and invading armies break it. But it's all fixed now. Really. <Lisl> At the moment. ::grins wider:: <Jaret> Hmph. We'll settle up later. Perhaps I could end up in your mother's debt, and transfer your obligation to her. She has sufficient practice at this sort of thing. <Lisl> ::eyes widening:: Aerdrie... only if I broke every bone in your body. Please. * Jaret laughs. "And *that* is how I will be able to walk away from this unmangled. When would you like to begin?" <Lisl> Hmph. Well, I'd thought to start today, were you willing, but I admit I'd not counted on this weather. ::shrugs a shoulder:: I leave it to you, teacher. ::smiles:: <Jaret> If we start today, I would be unable to complete my letter to my father. I accept. ::he pushes the table back up against the wall, and opens a wall case holding enough wooden practice weapons of all sizes to outfit a small army... of people wielding sticks:: Select your practice weapon, and we will commence. <Lisl> ::laughs and approaches the wall case:: Hells, Jaret... so *this* is how you keep your sword tax down... ::selects one wooden sword to test its weight and balance, shaking her head a little and selecting a larger one:: <Jaret> I've found practicing with live weaponry reduces my student base too quickly. Not that I've had many, of late, anyway. <Lisl> Here. This'll do me. ::takes a few practice swings and settles into a fighter's stance:: Shall we have at? * Jaret reaches under the lip of the case and pulls out a long, thin practice sword that was tucked out of sight. "Of course." He settles into his own stance, and grins. "Ladies first." |
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