Throws of Terror

"You seem disappointed in their performance. They seemed to work quite admirably in my eyes." The Captain was conversing with Donovan in a small changing room as he got into his training equipment. "Was there something you didn't particularly like?"

"This might not be something you are particularly concerned with, but they are overly reliant on split."

"They didn't seem to be particularly dependent on it."

"Is that so?"

"Mm. While I won't claim to be an expert on this sort of matter, they didn't seem to use it unwisely. They rationed their split fairly reasonably."

"Maybe so, but the fact remains that once they ran out of it they crashed." Donovan tugged at one of the straps to secure his scabbard to his hip. "Losing combat efficacy over something like that is unacceptable."

"I understand where you are coming from there, but I honestly don't think there is much of a way to remedy that. Split is essential to higher level combat."

"That's exactly my point. If they waste their split where it isn't needed, jogging to a combat area for example, then they become ineffective when the time comes."

"Hmm. I can certainly see that as an area to improve in, though I feel you should know that the amount of split used to supplement jogging pales in comparison to consumption when in the thick of combat." The Captain tried to make some gestures with his hands to clarify, but Donovan was too preoccupied with his boots to notice. "I really think experiencing how it works will help you understand what I'm trying to convey."

"I'm still, what, a week off from that? Five days?"

"Three days by my count. Have you been strengthening your core sufficiently?"

"Basically every waking moment. Its gotten easier in some ways, harder in others."

"That's to be expected. I would say you are coming closer to the state most people find themselves in their adolescence. Once you cross the first hump it'll go back to being easier for a while. I think you'll find your first few experiences with using split in a combat context to be quite painful though, it's the same for everyone."

Donovan sighed as he tightened his final piece of kit to his body, a metal guard for his forearms. He was still in the middle of experimenting with what felt comfortable, and they seemed like something that would be helpful to shrug off strikes coming from a more extreme angle of incidence. They were a little weighty, but certainly better than having some of his forearm muscle shaved off by a narrowly parried thrust.

"I can't wait."

- - - - -

The sound of metal striking and sliding on metal filled the courtyard.

"Try to close with me."

"Easier said than done."

Donovan was currently suffering a torrent of light strikes from Titanyana, struggling to keep himself from being hit while making his way towards her. This was a form of defensive drill, teaching him to get within the range of the ever present lance. If he could get to a point where the blade of the lance could not be readily made to hit him, he would have an advantage with his shorter but more nimble sword.

The fact that Titanyana didn't use a lance but a sword, one with less reach than Donovan's at that, meant that this exercise wasn't really working the way that Titanyana wanted it to. It was certainly good practice, and it was excellent at demonstrating to Donovan the dangers of thrusting attacks executed from beyond his reach, but this was not how a lancer would be attacking him.

For one her strikes were too fast, the time between individual attacks was too short. Her angles were also quite different than what Titanyana said should be expected. She was short, far smaller in stature than most of the competent combatants Donovan would face that used the lance, so her strikes were coming mostly from below rather than level with or even above him.

The last difference was one of weapon characteristic, which allowed the enhanced utilization of her wrist. Combined with a shorter weapon, the ability to rotate the blade around using her wrist as a gimbal meant she had more vectors to potentially attack from. The drawback was that individual blows were less powerful and were more susceptible to being deflected.

All in all, not the most ideal way to train him to defend against polearms.

In spite of this, everyone involved was convinced that this was an adequate drill for the moment. Donovan was still unable to use split, and actually being able to see the results of his deflection attempts would provide him a better chance to learn. Not easy with the tempo difference, but not impossible.

Donovan blocked the tip of her sword with the flat of his blade, something that caused Titanyana to respond with an immediate kick to the gut.

"No."

"Yes ma'am."

The point got across without her having to explain, Donovan should never try to halt the advance of a spear by stopping it with his own sword. He didn't know why, but he could guess. There would probably be quite a bit of power behind these thrusts in a real combat scenario, so there was little doubt that absorbing all of that energy with his wrists would be a bad idea.

Starting once again, Donovan started adding maneuvers he thought might increase his chances as he made his way towards her.

- - - - -

'He is getting better.'

That was Titanyana's general opinion of Donovan's skills. He was making rapid progress on the basics, though she was concerned there might be a need to reinforce what they had gone over thus far. Despite being simple, it was incredibly easy to forget the basic principles of combat if you didn't constantly drill them into your body while in the opening stages of learning.

'He has a weak guard against strikes from his top to top left.'

The remedy to something like that was to start striking there harder and more often. There wasn't much wrong with his stance from what she could see, but the degree to which his sword turned back towards his abdomen spelt trouble if it was capitalized on in combat. It was more than likely he wasn't properly engaging the muscle groups he needed to, though there was definitely the possibility that his anatomy was simply weaker in that stance.

Such a thing wouldn't surprise her. Even the Nekh had a few stances found in traditional sword fighting techniques that were disadvantageous to them, chief among them being blocking strikes from the top. Something about their shoulders meant they struggled to maintain power with their arms above their head. Their preferred solution was to adopt a stance lower to the ground, giving them time to turn a block to the top into a deflection to the side.

'Good blocks, steady progress.'

Titanyana sorely wished she was taller and more proficient with the lance or spear. She couldn't strike from the angles Donovan needed to gain experience with and couldn't accurately simulate how a lance would react to being parried.

'I should start backing up. He's getting close.'

Titanyana took note of his lower stance. Not only did it make him a smaller target, but it put him in a position to react to thrusts better. Lower to the ground, he could get more out of his legs and force himself out of the way in the case that a redirection was impossible.

'Five more and then I step back.'

The first strike towards his shoulder was dodged before her sword was struck away. Her second strike was parried as it approached his abdomen, and her third, aimed towards his head, was ducked under. It was at that point that something changed in Donovan's approach.

'He needs to keep both of his hands on his sw-'

Donovan's free hand grabbed her wrist, and suddenly Titanyana became very confused. Sure, her sword was short, but it wasn't so short that he could have grabbed her wrist at an arms length. When did he step forward? Was it when he ducked under her blade?

Her train of thought ended abruptly when she was pulled off balance.

'Shit!'

Before Donovan's sword had even touched the ground, his right arm had come under her sword arm and grabbed onto. Ducking further and twisting his body around so her arm was over his shoulder, he pushed his lower body back and tossed Titanyana over his back. Donovan had executed a textbook throw.

- - - - -

Donovan didn't exactly remember what school of martial art this throw belonged to, but he had been taught it as a countermeasure to some individual with a weapon like a knife. Duck under their weapon, grab their wrist to lessen control, get center of mass under their striking arm, use feet or a short pull to unbalance your opponent, then pull them over your body while making sure to not be impaled by the weapon you are avoiding.

Ideally, the shock from hitting the ground would cause the assailant to let go of their weapon.

Titanyana had barely made contact with the ground when Donovan started to move to restrain her. This was an instinctual reaction for him, but the size difference of Titanyana in comparison to his old sparring partners meant that his limbs did not immediately go to the correct positions.

That said, he adjusted himself quickly, and Titanyana found herself unable to get out of his hold.

"Is that an acceptable way to do it?" Donovan's head was right next to hers, and he could feel her panicked breathing and racing heartbeat. Her arms were straining to get free and her legs flailed a bit. This was definitely not something she had been expecting, and her reaction displayed that. "You good?"

- - - - -

Titanyana was in the throes of terror. She had not experienced what was happening to her at the moment, and it was something she had a great fear of. It wasn't flying through the air, nor was it having her wrist grabbed, those were adequate means of disabling an opponent with a sword. It was what happened after the throw that caused her to freeze up.

Her free arm was pinned to her chest and her sword arm locked down by Donovan's. Her torso was pressed firmly to the ground by Donovan's own, and her legs kicked at nothing, unable to assist her. Only her head was left somewhat free, but even that was hindered by Donovan's head pushing against her neck.

Titanyana looked to the sky as the reality that she could not escape dawned on her.

This was a scary prospect for her on its own. She was fragile, but agile, so being pinned down assured a loss, but usually she could use split to get out of a tough spot. Here, pinned down by Donovan, someone completely incapable of using split, she was unable to get free. This was what terrified her.

Split, something she considered a nigh supreme tool in combat when used properly, was defeated. Here, she was weak. If she didn't have split, what did she have? She couldn't use her sword to any degree of competence without it. She couldn't run away without it. She wasn't even confident in her ability to exert authority without it.

Her entire life had been fashioned under the idea that split could solve just about any problem she would have to encounter so long as her opponent didn't have more of it or use it better than she did. Foreign royalty would be inclined to give her respect on account of her split proficiency alone.

For the first time in her life, split had failed her, and it was crushing her worldview.

"Titanyana! HEY!" Donovan's yells finally filtered into her train of thought. "Are you okay? You're hyperventilating."

Titanyana couldn't keep a handle on her emotions any longer, and she started to cry. Donovan was scary, but he was also eerily compassionate. He was also the one who had broken her. If she was honest with herself, she had absolutely zero idea what to make of him.

Donovan was smart and could pick up on concepts very easily, but he was completely clueless about a great many 'truths' she knew of. Donovan could be kind and caring like he was being now, but he could also beat people mercilessly and ignore the feelings of others without so much as a thought. Donovan was a terribly weak combatant by her standards, and yet she had just been beaten by him.

The pressure on her back lifted and she could move her arms again, but she still remained stationary on the floor in shock.

"Shit. Did I hit your head on the ground? Was there a rock somewhere? Fuck!" Donovan lifted her up and moved her from the training area, making a quick sweep of the area she landed in to make sure there was nothing there. "I guess we're done training for today."

- - - - -

"So she's fine?"

"I didn't see anything wrong with her." Gretts had some medical experience, apparently. "No bruises, no bleeding, and nothing that stood out as particularly strange when I looked at her."

"Then what happened to her? I don't think what I did was too strange."

"Do ya mind if I ask what happened? I've lived longer than you, and I'm something of a woman myself, so I might have a few ideas."

Donovan explained what happened in the moments prior to her panic as best he could.

"A throw? Can't say I've heard of it, but if its a more physical move then that might have triggered something." Gretts sighed, as if she had just encountered a particularly annoying situation. "I've worked with quite a few women who have found themselves in a variety of unsavory situations over the years, many having some sort of trauma. While I don't know what she's been through it wouldn't be surprising if this was related somehow."

"What do you mean?"

"Sexual trauma, though that might not be the case given her training. Look, all I'm trying to say is that she might have some bad memories about not being able to move or having a man so close to her. It sounds like you put her in something of a vulnerable situation."

"I would never-"

"Not saying you would sexually assault her or anything like that, only that you put her in a position that would evoke that sort of memory."

"... what should I do?" Donovan was at a loss. She was his trainer, one he desperately needed at that.

"For now, let her get some rest. It might take a day or two for her to come out of her shell again, but I'll see what I can do to counsel her through this. Who knows, it might not even be trauma related to a man, but some sort of beast that pinned her down and threatened to kill her. I seem to recall that's a fairly common story among some of the meeker men at the academy."

"That would be a confidence breaker." The Captain, who had been sitting off to the side, joined in on the conversation. His opinion was usually welcome to the both of them given his wealth of experience, but he seemed to be lacking in this area. "Should her trauma be combat related, I would like for you to ask me for help. She is young, and was asked to be an instructor by yours truly. It is entirely possible that she was not finished with her basic training either."

"You have my word, Captain." Gretts displayed her respect for the Captain with a slight bow. "As for you, boy, I suggest you spend the rest of your day with that girlfriend of yours. It looks like she has the day off, and there are plenty of places you two could go. Captain, would you be willing to show them around?"

"That was my secondary intention for the day. Sir Strauss, I trust you will have no qualms with this?"

"Not at all, and I don't think Diana will either. Neither of us are familiar with the locale."