Conrad let his heavy blade whistle through the air with the speed of a confident and experienced swordsman, pulling it from the sheath and aiming a horizontal strike at the unoffending air, then turned the strike before it reached its full extent and brought the blade in front of his chest, the typical guarding pose, his free hand on his hip and his legs spaced apart. The guardsmen in front of him had that singular look of attention and the former Hauptman hoped that it wasn’t feigned. There was no training that could really teach you how to behave in a combat situation, but if you had learned a certain amount of reflexes, you could survive long enough to get your feet back under you. Conrad pointed out why he had made that move, drawing in a horizontal strike.

”Make every strike count, fight dirty! We’re not nobles duelling, we’ll go toe-to-toe with lowlives and scum.”

He sheathed the Katzbalger again and repeated the move, faster this time, the steel becoming a silver stripe during the first motion, materializing momentarily before blurring once more as it shot to his chest. He smiled as he saw the men nod, they understood, most of them were solid guys, dependable, level-headed and good at what they did. Conrad continued his lecture.

”When you draw your sword with a killing intent, never give the other a chance to react, if you go for the kill, go straight for it. Every blow you give first is a blow he might not be able to parry.”

The group nodded again and made sounds of acknowledgement and Conrad gave them the order to continue their sparring, while walking around and correcting where they made mistakes. He wasn’t the real teacher here, the sparring partner was. He had given them the order to give it their all, there were no rules, it was all about winning. The sounds of wooden blades rung across the field and Conrad was taken back to his warring days, when he had heard these sounds almost daily in a much larger concentration. Hundreds and thousands of swordsmen and pikemen, often newly leveraged from the towns in France, Germany and Italy. Those days were gone though, he had left the army for a reason, a good reason. He was tired of the constant marching and fighting. The job of a guard was boring perhaps, but the food was on time and the payment was good. He smiled as he saw how the guardsmen exchanged their blows with a precision that he had ingrained in them. Do not give the enemy a chance to react to your strikes, strike true…

He dismissed them an hour later, they had duties to go to and he needed to do his own practising in private anyway. He sighed and rolled his shoulders a few times, before closing his eyes and drawing his sword. It might look ridiculous, him slashing at the wind, but it was his own method of training, flowing from one step to the other, stabbing, circling his blade and slashing. He smiled when it was done…Looking around slowly…

Oh she had heard of this training. Even though she was forbidden to go anywhere near the training grounds by her aunt and uncle. She couldn’t help it, it seemed to be a part of her in some way. One could think of it more as a comfort if they wished. A reminder of home, a time when she thought things were normal. The way when she was younger she would hear her father training. She remembered when her mother was alive, how she told young Sarita that she shouldn’t listen to such violent commotion. Even if it was only in training, she said a young lady shouldn’t worry bout such things. They should learn proper things like embroidering and taking care of a household. Not worrying about people fighting, that should be reserved for the men. Something they should be into, of course for awhile she listened. She was close to her mother after all. So what she wanted to do was, please her.

Oh how she missed those day. Memories would flood back on after her mother died, when her father wouldn’t do those same things. When he would lock himself up, become a recluse till she was ten. It was a surprise to her when he started to teach her how to handle a sword. His words to her, was her fast reflex’s from dance ‘may’ help her if she were to ever learn. This was when she could tell he had given up on trying to have a son. The wind blew past her as she walked, realizing this was all why she had to get away from luna. Because she was found out by a noblemen, it was after all forbidden for a girl to learn such a thing but she did. Sighing dark pulled back in a braid that made a halo around her head. Where long black hair fell down in loose waves to her shoulders. Hearing the clashing of wooden swords she grinned to herself. Her small frame quickly running in the direction but making sure she wasn’t seen. A light green dress, silhouetted her petite frame. Dark eyes looked up, once she reached her destination.

Crouching down, she looked out silently seeing the men and hearing the one who obviously was calling the orders practicing with such weapons. Something her father didn’t do, he taught her right away how to use a regular one. Well a custom made one, he had gotten for her which instead of being a war sword was a petite fencing sword to fit her hands. It wasn’t till about a hour that she finally moved abit to duck out of the way of the men coming towards her, so that they didn’t see she was there. Oh how her legs ached from being crouched down.

Conrad had spent long hours on the guard, not only in the castle itself, but also in the days before, when he had still been a foot soldier in the army of his lord Charles the fifth, the great emperor of the Holy Roman empire. There was something in humans, an old instinct that told when you were being watched, like a shiver across your spine, an unpleasant tinge of…irritation. Conrad knew it well, he had felt it in the alleys of Paris, when he had been set upon by ruffians and on his solitary watches on the field, just before an arrow buzzed at him.

He watched as his men walked away, talking softly among each other, groaning as they tested their arms and shoulders with the tentative touch of men who had today met their limits and hoped to move them. He smiled softly, they were good men, with an army of these, or even a company, he could’ve won the Italian wars. He sighed and turned away, ignoring the feeling of being watched for now to perform his own training. He pulled the steel again and stepped forwards, envisioning an enemy from the pure wind. He struck, swiftly and brutally, combining a pace forwards with a petit bonhomme, little Goodman. Bending his knees and dipping low he aimed his sword for the ground, angling down from his shoulder. The blade would’ve slid through the slot between the plates of one’s leg protection, shattering the kneecap with the blade’s hard beak. He rolled to the side, ignoring the dirt that came on his training doublet. He should keep his reflexes lively, even if said reflexes were part of a sequence he had devised himself to incorporate all sword moves he needed to practise. He got up swiftly, far faster than most people would’ve given him credit for an struck again, a mean angle from his elbow that would’ve cleaved upwards, through the strap of the helmet most foot soldiers wore in his days, shattering the jaw and most likely incapacitating the enemy. It wasn’t enough though, a blow had to be a killing one. Conrad slammed forwards his off-hand, right where the windpipe would be located. It was a mean punch, not really fair, but it worked more often than it didn’t. He jumped back again and continued the onslaught, gripping the blade with two hands then…

He sighed when it was over, he always had to. It was intense, he had to make it intense. He knew how little one could be prepared for war, since he had been at that grand battle near the fields of Pavia, but he knew that he should always be prepared, even that little. He needed to stay in shape, he might be living soft these days, he still had a job…A job that required hardness not inherent to this life of a guard. He brushed the sweat from his forehead, sheathed his sword and threw a look behind him. That feeling was still there…Why not?

”I’d appreciate it if you came out, I know you’re there.”

If there was someone, it might just bring that one into the open and if there wasn’t, well then there wasn’t. It wasn’t foolproof, this instinct of men, but no game, no win.

She watched, this man having the agility in her opinion of a cat. The way he moved, but then he also looked like he was insane just randomly swinging at the air. Putting her in the mind of the crazy people that roamed the streets of luna, where she lived just a year before. All he would have to do in her opinion was start mumbling and ranting about something that wasn't there. Then he would give off that feeling all to well. Eyes quickly keeping time with the slash's as if mentally noting how each ones swing was going to be. Something she couldn't help it was as if she was fascinated with the weapon in itself. The way that a human could be capable of weilding such a thing.

Eyes dancing with each movement, staying focused on the leg stances and the blade in the males hand. But it wasn't long till she heard the mans voice her eyes getting big. How did he know that she was there, she couldn't believe it. She didn't make a sound, for that matter she hardly made a noise. But he still knew that she was still there, it was odd and strange in her opinion. Her mind racing on wether or not she should come out. Eyes big before taking a deep breath, standing up as she straightened her dress out while he was still turned around. Quickly moving from her hiding spot to make it look like she was walking around as she spoke. Her voice soft and wispy with a soft lunian accent. I am sorry I was walking past just seen someone swinging at the air Her head still held high as if she wasn't spying and trying to put on that air of her status.

Conrad was breathing hard, sweating, his shoulder ached and his hand had locked up around the grip of the sword, but he was pleased. He felt that he had done well, that he was still fit and ready for what needed to be done. He walked over to the edge of the field, where a towel had been hung over the wooden railing, picking it up and drying off his sweating face. He’d have to wash before going back into his uniform, but that was alright. He needed to stay in shape and there was sweat involved in that, blood, sweat and tears. He turned around, to where he heard a voice.

“I am sorry I was walking past just seen someone swinging at the air”

That was a lie and he was certain of it. He hadn’t heard footsteps, not when he had been training nor when she had just “appeared.” She had been around for longer than just now and she had been hidden, probably behind the wooden walls. He decided not to point it out to her though, it didn’t matter. Her reasons for watching him when he trained were her own and none of his concern, unless she made them his. For now, he would just let it slide and as if nothing happened. He looked at her for a while, not recognizing her. She seemed to be of the gentry, or at least have the ego for it. Her dress made that look even more obvious, but she wasn’t from arround. Her accent was Luanian and her facial structure bore signs of that same country. He nodded calmly, showing no expression.

”Like milady might train her dancing without music, so do I train my sword without opponent. I have enough memories to relive as training.”

He sheathed his sword and belted it around again, found his hat and put it on his head.

”Conrad Schneider, captain of the guard, pleased to meet you.”

She could tell by the way he looked after the swinging stopped that the weapon must be heavy. Something she recalled even from luna, the way the men if they weren't accustomed to the work, and sometimes even if they were. The way they would sweat as if they had been lifting a heavy weight for hours upon end. Making her smile, she was always smiling as she watched them from a distance of course even before her father started teaching her. What could she say it had always been something she had been fascinated about.

She couldn't help it she had to think of something. She couldn't let them know that she had actually been watching such a thing. Oh if her aunt and uncle would find out she would get yelled at, after all she had to leave luna because of such a 'scandal' as her father had said, and her aunt and uncle agreed with. Brushing her dress off she smiled as he spoke listening to his words. Her mind drifting as she thought not realizing she was speaking out loud " You practice with no opponent like a bird sings there song with nothing to back them up. Like a lark flys through a hurricane to get to another.." She blinked snapping out of it as she blushed slightly shaking her head.

Hearing his name she nodded as she raised a brow Ahh tis a pleasure to meet you, I am Lady Sarita Iglesias... She couldn't help it, it was just something that popped out of her mouth.