He was sure this was the right place, a nondescript building, on some random building in the busy street of Udine, Italy.
"Hiding in plain sight, I see," Joachim thought to himself. He always knew this fencing master to be somewhat secretive, as the rumors led him to believe, but this was something else. Apparently this man took combat seriously.
Joachim was always one that wanted to learn the art of combat. Ever since he was a young lad, he dreamed of one day charging down, lance in hand, driving the way for his fellow comrades to advance like the chivalric tales he heard as a lad.
Now, since he was 12, and a proper squire, and ward to a rather well off lord, his lord figured it was time he learned advanced fighting techniques. It was actually not a common thing this lord Giovanni required, all of the men-at-arms at his service were trained to be the best of the best.
However, their instructor has always been hidden under the rug. A slave, to the artistry of combat is what he heard. Now that he's standing in front of the door, he could see that the rumors were indeed true.
"Should I knock on the door?" He asked himself. "Well, I see no harm in it." He knocked assertively, and to his surprise the door opened rather lazily. He cautiously stepped inside to find himself in a large room, with several weapons hung about. He saw a group of poleaxes bunched up in the corner, several daggers laying about, as if the owner needed a convenient place to quickly grab one, and several longswords of varying types strewn about the room.
Admittedly, it was a rather impressive space. Shaking himself out of the distractions, he remembered why he was here, "Hello?" He called out, just to see of the master of the house was about.
No answer.
Suddenly, he heard a voice saying, grimly, "Draw your sword."
Acting on pure instinct, Joachim drew his sword from its scabbard, as a man in his late thirties descended upon him with moves that hit like an elephant, and strikes coming in so fast as if they were the lightning bolts from God himself.
Frantically backpedaling, Joachim tried his best to parry the incoming blows. He was no stranger to the sword, but up to this point, he only learned the basics, and it was clear he was outclassed.
The figure, clad in in a caperon, eventually pinned his arms as he blocked a mittlehau coming in from his left, and in one deft movement, the man used the handle of his sword to wrench Joachim's sword right out of his hands.
Now, completely vulnerable, his arms pinned, and his only weapon now flying a distance and finally clanging to the ground, Joachim had to admit that there was no way of him winning, or even coming even to this master.
"I yield, sir!" He yelled on instinct, hoping that he would receive mercy.
"Pathetic! This is what Lord Giovanni sends to me now! Pah! Where's your honor, lad?" The figure spat. "If you lack any courage or honor, you may as well go hang yourself, lad. Fencing is not for you."
Now with more light pouring in the room, Joachim could now see the figure's face. Clad in a caperon, dyed black, with a black overcoat, and brightly colored and nicely tailored clothes, he could see that this was a man of high status. As the figure stepped into the rays of light now piercing the room, Joachim saw his face. He seemed to be a man roundabout his late thirties, with a nicely groomed, full beard. He knew exactly who his master sent him to.
"You.... You're Grandmaster Fiore the Furlano!" Joachim said, gleaming with excitement. Of course his lord sent him to learn the art of combat from one of the best masters in the entire Holy Roman Empire.
"It seems my reputation proceeds me," the Furlano said. "No doubt your master sent you to learn from me, Fiore?"
"Aye, noble sir. My master deems it necessary to become an artist of combat," Joachim said. He still couldn't believe this massive opportunity. Growing up in his father's manor, being the second son of a noble, he was destined to either be sent off to the monastery, or become a knight. He chose to be a knight, and thus he was sent off to be the ward of Lord Giovanni to be molded into a men-at-arms.
"It seems you have much to learn, pupil," Fiore said, obviously nonchalantly, "No one has the right to call himself an artist or a master if he hasn't even mastered the fundamentals."
"Your first lesson starts now," the Furlano said. "We have to first unlearn what you thought you knew about the art of combat. Start with a clean slate, then we build you up from there."
--Let me know what you guys thought. This is my first attempt at writing any story, so any feedback would be appreciated!
"Hiding in plain sight, I see," Joachim thought to himself. He always knew this fencing master to be somewhat secretive, as the rumors led him to believe, but this was something else. Apparently this man took combat seriously.
Joachim was always one that wanted to learn the art of combat. Ever since he was a young lad, he dreamed of one day charging down, lance in hand, driving the way for his fellow comrades to advance like the chivalric tales he heard as a lad.
Now, since he was 12, and a proper squire, and ward to a rather well off lord, his lord figured it was time he learned advanced fighting techniques. It was actually not a common thing this lord Giovanni required, all of the men-at-arms at his service were trained to be the best of the best.
However, their instructor has always been hidden under the rug. A slave, to the artistry of combat is what he heard. Now that he's standing in front of the door, he could see that the rumors were indeed true.
"Should I knock on the door?" He asked himself. "Well, I see no harm in it." He knocked assertively, and to his surprise the door opened rather lazily. He cautiously stepped inside to find himself in a large room, with several weapons hung about. He saw a group of poleaxes bunched up in the corner, several daggers laying about, as if the owner needed a convenient place to quickly grab one, and several longswords of varying types strewn about the room.
Admittedly, it was a rather impressive space. Shaking himself out of the distractions, he remembered why he was here, "Hello?" He called out, just to see of the master of the house was about.
No answer.
Suddenly, he heard a voice saying, grimly, "Draw your sword."
Acting on pure instinct, Joachim drew his sword from its scabbard, as a man in his late thirties descended upon him with moves that hit like an elephant, and strikes coming in so fast as if they were the lightning bolts from God himself.
Frantically backpedaling, Joachim tried his best to parry the incoming blows. He was no stranger to the sword, but up to this point, he only learned the basics, and it was clear he was outclassed.
The figure, clad in in a caperon, eventually pinned his arms as he blocked a mittlehau coming in from his left, and in one deft movement, the man used the handle of his sword to wrench Joachim's sword right out of his hands.
Now, completely vulnerable, his arms pinned, and his only weapon now flying a distance and finally clanging to the ground, Joachim had to admit that there was no way of him winning, or even coming even to this master.
"I yield, sir!" He yelled on instinct, hoping that he would receive mercy.
"Pathetic! This is what Lord Giovanni sends to me now! Pah! Where's your honor, lad?" The figure spat. "If you lack any courage or honor, you may as well go hang yourself, lad. Fencing is not for you."
Now with more light pouring in the room, Joachim could now see the figure's face. Clad in a caperon, dyed black, with a black overcoat, and brightly colored and nicely tailored clothes, he could see that this was a man of high status. As the figure stepped into the rays of light now piercing the room, Joachim saw his face. He seemed to be a man roundabout his late thirties, with a nicely groomed, full beard. He knew exactly who his master sent him to.
"You.... You're Grandmaster Fiore the Furlano!" Joachim said, gleaming with excitement. Of course his lord sent him to learn the art of combat from one of the best masters in the entire Holy Roman Empire.
"It seems my reputation proceeds me," the Furlano said. "No doubt your master sent you to learn from me, Fiore?"
"Aye, noble sir. My master deems it necessary to become an artist of combat," Joachim said. He still couldn't believe this massive opportunity. Growing up in his father's manor, being the second son of a noble, he was destined to either be sent off to the monastery, or become a knight. He chose to be a knight, and thus he was sent off to be the ward of Lord Giovanni to be molded into a men-at-arms.
"It seems you have much to learn, pupil," Fiore said, obviously nonchalantly, "No one has the right to call himself an artist or a master if he hasn't even mastered the fundamentals."
"Your first lesson starts now," the Furlano said. "We have to first unlearn what you thought you knew about the art of combat. Start with a clean slate, then we build you up from there."
--Let me know what you guys thought. This is my first attempt at writing any story, so any feedback would be appreciated!