It's been sometime since I wrote this story. İf there are anymore geneforge fans out there, feel free to review and show your thoughts. I'm also switching to third person as I am always forgetting to do first person.

CHAPTER 4

With a class of sore, breathless teenagers behind him, Jon was entering the practice courtyard. With targets pinned into great oaks, practice dummies full of straw, weapon racks and duelling areas, the coutyard looked as exciting as it was indimidating. He looked anxiously at the sinister black maces, elegant longswords and other weapons while he strode across the bright green grass. There was a cool and pleasant breeze in the air that seemingly gave him the energy he had lost while in endurance practice.

Byron was about to touch a steel blade when a strong, accented voice boomed, "Dont touch that."

A small man with a long, curly, chestnut hair and a deadly looking rapier strode into the courtyard.

"Greetings young ones. I am your teacher and master-at-arms. My name is Zayn Lodovico and whenever you hold a blade in your hands you shall remember me." He said so like he was sure it would happen.

"Now all of you get in line so I can take a good look at you." They made a row while he walked slowly in front of them. He looked piercingly into their eyes as if he was looking right into their souls.

"In this class you shall learn how to fight, to kill or be killed, to have a weapon be a part of your body, and any other machoistic phrases that will represent your combat training. Let us keep it simple. I am here so that when you hold a weapon in your hands, you wont feel like a virgin boy about to bed his first lass." The class guffawed loudly.

"No, after I am done with you, you will be better at fighting than any city guard, rough soldier or backwater mercenary. Whatever your expertise; magic or combat. Whatever you position, guardian, shaper or agent, you will become a combatant of arms."

"Now, swords!" Two burly guards pulled a wagon full of wooden swords into the courtyard.

"Everyone take a sword from the wagon."

Everyone took a sword from the wagon. Jon took one and noticed how it was unusually heavy for a piece of wood. The length of the sword was slightly longer than a shortsword, while not being as tall as a longsword. He gave a few practice swings,

"First I shall teach you how to grip your sword. The meat of your hand should be on top of the handle. Do not use a death grip as you will just waste your energy. Your grip should be firm, but your fingers and muscles relexed. Also have a slight bend to your wrist. İf you flatten your wrist the impact on the sword will be a bigger shock to your harm."

İt took a long time for everyone to adjust. Zayn walked through everyone and pointed out mistakes while praising the ones who did it correctly. Class was already over by the time everyone had got it.

Nothing interesting happened in missile weapons training. The scarred, rough looking teacher introduced himself and talked about the history of ranged weapons. After training Jon left the courtyard with Byron to his other classes.