"To put it simply, in swordplay, the blade is not a tool, it is you. And if you fall, you are most likely to die." Trevor drew his sword. It was a polished broadsword, tapered at the end, made to resist the shock of battle, yet remained an extansion of his arm. "I believe, that you will make a fine swordswoman, in time to come." He smiled. "Now, also, to maintain your balance in combat, you are to keep your feet apart, this will allow you to keep a balanced posture without being pushed over easily. Bend you knees! Don't keep them too straight. He who stands like a pillar dies in battle while he who bends like a reed shall live."<br/><br/>Now, he twirled his sword, and sheathed it. He returned his gaze to the claw. "Yes, I see now, this particular weapon is made for inward slashing, the same movement when you want to gather sand." He made exaggerated motions as though he was trying to gather sand. He paused, "Okay, that was stupid. But, you get the point. Also, i think..." He inspected the ends of the sharpened steel, "Mhmm, they are also capable of stabbing. Use stabbing as a fatal blow, do not attempt to keep using stabbing as a main form of attack, as you might over extand yourself and-" He made a gurgling sound, as though his throat was cut opened, "You die."<br/><br/>He pointed to two straw dummies at the side, they were made for scarecrows. "Go test you skills on them, try not ti cut too many plants." He smiled lopsidedly.<br/><br/>******<br/><br/>Marcus nodded at Blake, and both of them leapt off the rooftop with perfect synchronicity. They landed, making hardly a whispe of grey robes. Blood tainted the hems of the grey fabric, it would only be a matter of time before they were fully red.