This day seemed like a great one, banners rose to every height possible as people milled around the streets. It had been two days since Draven, his father and the caravan had arrived at the crowning city of Oba. People wore bright colors, children ran around the streets as parents watched. It was one of those busy days and the market was especially busy. City folk milled around the stands haggling for goods, bartering away things they had of value that could be used for other means.
Draven, with a small purse of coin tied snugly to his sash, the dark haired boy purused the festival. There were so many around, from all tribes it seemed to him. Stopping here and there, Draven admired the works of the smithies. The ringing of a hammer against heated metal as it was bent and twisted into works of their arts. Dancers performed on small stages, where some tossed coin in respect and cheers rang up for more. Draven stopped along his trek, the smell of food making his stomach growl. Was it lunch time? It felt like it was barely after opening, my did time pass! Pausing at one of the many stands he picked up a skewer of roasted meat, onions and other assorted vegetables.
"Mmmm, this is really good." Draven commented as the cook smiled and waved to him before turning to serve another customer.
Further through the crowds he wove, the sights, the sounds. It was almost too much for him to take in all to once. It was soon the sounds of cheers as men older then himself competed in contests of strength, accuracy and other feats. These attracted Draven's attention, pressing through the tightly knit throng of onlookers. He finally came to the front to see two swordsmen locked together in combat. Their swords flashed in the high sun, throwing light over the arena as the combatants broke apart to come to guard again.
"Excuse me, what are they doing?" Draven asked an older man to his side that was also watching the show.
"Its a show of skill. Also a way of seeing how they match up against others of their same class." The man explained, "As far as I can see, these two swordsmen are equally matched. In strength and power, it seems that everything will come down to how long they will last."
Perplexed at this, Draven stepped as close to the arena as h was allowed and watching the two fighters. Almost like he was mesmerized by the flashing of the sun off the polished metal, Draven thought back to when he was having lunch with one of his first friends, Abie. The water teen was working towards being a rider, raising his own snaptrotter, or that is what it looked like to him anyways. Draven had had an interest in blades that day when they looked over the weapons and got the chance to swing one around a little.
"Perhaps." Draven muttered as he turned away from the arena and headed along the edge towards where other fighters stood or sat in waiting for their turn. This was a one on one show and having others on the same field was a recipe for disaster if someone were to step just right. Poking his head into the waiting area, he watched the older fighters, swordsmen of all tribes and ages. Some didn't look older then he was.
"Excuse me little man, registered swordsmen only in here." said a voice behind him.
Turning sharply, Draven looked up at a stern looking man. He looked like someone that had seen the worst of everything and took nothing from no one that didn't deserve it.
"Sorry, I was just looking and thought if I were to become a swordsman myself, I might as well get to know a few?" He offered in an explanation.
"Just don't disrupt anyone." The official sniffed eyeing Draven down his nose. "Or you will be out of here faster then you stepped in."
Giving a sheepish look, Draven nodded in agreement before edging around the waiting area. Watching the men mill around, some taking practice swings at wooden logs set up on one side. Other talking to each other, some friendly, others not so much. Draven stopped once at a weapons wrack that sat to one side of the area and eyed the blades that rested upon it. They all looked so awesome.
Glancing around, no one was really paying attention to him. Good, if no one noticed, then he wouldn't get into trouble, right? Reaching forward he grasped ahold of one of the heavier, larger blades and tried to pull it from the wrack. At first the sword didn't want to move, but after a moment it slipped from its slot. With the sword free from the weapons wrack, Draven didn't realize how heavy it was until the weight cause him to topple backwards with a bit of a yelp.
"Careful there." Said a gruff voice that came as a chuckle. A large dark skinned hand reached out and snatched the sword easily from Draven's and set it back into the wrack. "Don't think you are ready to heft something like that one just yet." The man, a dark skinned Oban chuckled again.
Draven, feeling his face warm, surely his was blushing so red it showed. He looked up at the Oban who had taken the sword. Ok, he had been a little silly that he could get away with that. Picking himself up off the ground, he brushed off the dust and dirt.
"Yea, you might be right" Draven laughed softly, scratching the back of his head. "Didn't know anyone was watching, guess I should have asked before assuming."
The oban laughed heartily before smacked Draven on the back almost knocking him forward to the ground. He was only able to keep on his feet by bracing against the weapons wrack that was close by.
"Its alright, just have to be careful where you tug. Some of these could cause you to lose a limb." the oban chuckled watching the teen. "This sword might be more your size. Certainly won't cause you any harm if you hit yourself with it."
Draven looked at the wooden sword that was being held out to him. Really? Wood? Sighing slightly, Draven picked it up, the wood was certainly lighter then the metal ones. But he felt silly, like a child holding a toy and pretending to be a swordsman at the mockery of the adults.
"Don't look so down, I had to practice with that sword. Trust me, its a lot easier then swinging around a metal one and lopping off arms, legs and maybe even fingers." The oban explained seeing the disappointment on Draven's face. "Let me guess, no one uses a sword where you're from?"
"Nope, my father is a merchant in the caravan. Known that all my life, but its not what I really want to do." Draven explain looking away.
"Is that so, well. If its swordsmanship you want to get into, you have a lot to learn. Its not all pick up a sword and swing it around." the man explain, catching Draven's attention. "There are rules and techniques you have learn and master. You think you can handle that?"
Looking from where he had come from, the Market area was just on the other end of the festival ground, to the wooden practice sword in his hand. He felt this was right, there was much excitement. It was almost too much for him to contain. "Yes, yes this is what I want. I don't want to be a merchant's son all my life. Where do I begin?" Draven asked looked back at the taller Oban with excitement.
"More of 'when' and that is now. If you really think you are ready." The oban suggested, watching Draven intently. "Because once you start, there is no turning back."
"I don't plan on turning back. I will become a swordsman and use those skills to help others." Draven put bluntly that made the Oban laugh. He was ready and not afraid. Draven was an open book ready for learning. No matter what it too!
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