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"No, no, NO!!"
This verbal explosion came from the outpost's main square.
More accurately, from Simeo, an elf, one of the veteran members of the Red Claw and master swordsman, who was training some young recruits in the noble art of fencing.
And the current student wasn't good.
Not by lack of good will, but what Simeo said seemed to go in an ear and leave by the other.
And the elf was losing patience.
"I said, don't hold the sword too tight! You'll lose in flexibility and will only numb your hand!"
The poor student made an effort to relax a bit.
"Better," grumbled the elf. "Correct pose too. All right, let's do a slow mock fight."
The first exchanges went correctly, until the student tried and overdid a lunge, and fell flat on his face.
"FOR PETE'S SAKE!!" yelled exasperatedly Simeo. "HOW MANY TIMES MUST I REPEAT TO NOT RUSH?! IS IT TOO HARD TO UNDERSTAND?!"
"Yeah well you think that's easy?!" barked back the student, who had enough and threw his sword away. "Maybe I'm just not cut for swordfighting!"
"Clearly," spat the elf. "Younglings. They wield swords like they were pans."
"Even though the sword is no mere tool," said a voice behind him.
The mercenary turned back and saw Carrios, who had taken up the discarded sword and was now in a fighting stance.
"The sword is a part of its master's body, an extension of his soul, imbued with his will to triumph," continued the merchant. "It moves and strikes fast and true, like lightning, and steps back, ready to strike again."
Wordlessly, a smirk in his lips, Simeo took his own fighting stance...

Art by  greeneear88
Original here: https://twitter.com/BarashBenski/st.....81852999036929
Carrios and Simeo © me