Wow
! That was a fantastic introduction of a character and scene. Just from that, you made the reader feel as though they were in the room with Jesse. With little details like "vinyl sparring mat" and the construction of your training garb, you painted a very vibrant picture of the room. I (as a reader) now know that the room holds mainly "ancient" weapons, including some made up versions like the elven swords, but is set in a fairly modern world due to the vinyl plastics that cover the floor. I especially enjoyed the little details (which to me are by far the more important) like...
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the left side was for blunt weapons such as nunchukus, staves and axes. the right was for bladed weapons such as swords, dirks and such. Jesse favored the sleek look of the blades. he believed battle should always be stylized.[/size] "Excellent work. The only criticism I have is spelling and punctuation, but that's because I am a bit of a grammar nazi when it comes to writing... It doesn't get in the way of the story at all, it just is there and is something to improve. I wouldn't think anyone except other grammar nazi's would even notice it really.
Now to continue...
(as neither of our characters have back story, I will just make some assumptions in that direction. If this were a real RP, you would probably be asked to build a character to have a bit of back story so that people can draw from it and interact with you on a very personal level. For now however...)
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Otebon smiled as his student took the elegantly curved katana from it's place along the wall. He remembered all those years ago when Jesse had first found that particular weapon and nearly demanded that he be trained in its use.
Without uttering a sound, Otebon turned and walked to the small stand that lay at the head of the modern dojo. Here were his most prized possessions and favorite weapons. Just as he did every time he approached these weapons, Otebon's emotions vied for dominance.
These were his favorite weapons and he could not help but feel unbounded joy in each and every one. Each dagger was a beauty unto itself, every sword told a tale that never grew old, while his staves gave a silent vigil in their infinite wisdom. Every single weapon had a story to tell and Otebon spent the majority of his waking hours listening to those stories as he taught the few that traveled this far into the mountains to speak with the masters here, as he meditated, and as he cared for this place of instruction.
As Otebon got closer though, the joy dribbled away and was replaced by sorrow, especially as his eyes fell upon the Chinese Dao placed reverently in the center. It had once belonged to Otebon's father and was only in Otebon's possession now due to the brave efforts of a dear friend. Many years ago, Otebon's father had been brutally murdered. His friend retrieved his weapon and presented it to Otebon. Now it served as a constant sentinel here in his father's home.
These all fell away though as Otebon's thoughts returned to his student behind him. It was nearing the times of The Trial for Jesse, and he was no doubt deep into his studies and desperately trying to master the final Scrolls so that he could pass. Otebon smiled as he reached for a pair of long dueling daggers that had become popular in the southern provinces. They were too long to be called knives, but too short to be called swords.
Otebon turned back to his student as he absent-mindedly spun the daggers around in his hands, finally resting in what was to be called an "ice-pick" grip for both hands. These daggers would allow him to block and attack simultaneously, but never with too much force.
He wasn't going to give his student an easy time, but he thought it would be unfair if he went for something he was a true master at, like the sword or spear.
"Are you ready," Otebon asked from the far end of the room. Although nearly thirty feet separated the two, both of them knew that Otebon could close that distance in less than a second.
Without waiting for a response, Otebon charged, both daggers held against the black fur of his arms and allowed his strong lupine legs to carry him ever closer to his student. With his tail streaming behind him, Otebon leaped at the last possible moment and drew his left hand up so that it would come down with a powerful stab. His right drifted up to his ear, ready to continue the attack once he had hit the ground.
Here I come youngling, Otebon thought as he flew through the air.
Give me your all!--- --- ---
I just thought that neither of us had built the character for this. We just kind of started, so... just so you know. Otebon is a black wolf with white / grey markings.
Topic: new to roleplaying anyone wanna teach about it? (Read 4923 times)