**note to self - this section is not in sequence with the others. Reis has met with a hermit weaponsmaster who has decided to take him on as apprentice.**

Reis swung his stave clumsily at the wooden figure. Alvern’s sober grey eyes twinkled, and he shook his head as he watched the end of Reis’ stave dig in the muddy ground, throwing him off balance. He chuckled, then walked over to the dejected boy. “I’ll never get the hang of this,” Reis lamented. “Sure you will - give yourself a break boy, you’ve only been practicing for fifteen minutes! Try again - this time, focus on only the ends of the pole, not the dummy.” Reis nodded, his lips tightly drawn in a stubborn grimace. He swung his stave around again, taking care to raise both ends, and missed the dummy completely. “Damn! I give up!” he angrily stormed over the grass near the edge of the practice area. He sat gingerly on the damp ground, grabbing handfuls of shorn grass to clean the mud from his once-new boots. Alvern watched silently, then walked over and hoisted up Reis’ stave. He examined it carefully from end to end, made mental note of a few areas which could use some smoothing. Then he stepped away and began to move, whipping the stave around his body and over his head in long, continuous flowing motions that made the wind whistle in his ears, then making shirt, repeated jabs to each and every side, whipping the staff back and around to ward off an imaginary fool attacker. Reis had never seen a weapon handled with such skill, and he stared in awe. It seemd as if Alvern were performing an eloquent, ancient dance with the rod as his partner. After several minutes, Alvern stopped and turned to Reis. He wasn’t even breathing heavily. “This, boy, is something that you will learn to do. I will give you exercises which you will repeat for at least four hours every day. After that, we’ll hit the practice field again.” Reis nodded dumbly, reaching for his stave. Alvern held it away. “You’ll not deserve this weapon until you’ve proved yourself worthy. Use that long branch over there.” “That?!” The branch in question was covered in rough bark, studded with twigs, and damp from the rain. Alvern showed no sign of backing down. “You will use branches until they no longer break them against the ground, but against the manikin. This will make your sight keen, your hands tough, and your reflexes quick.”