About: Symphony of a Nameless Blade

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An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

Nestled in the eastern foothills of Lordaeron, the small village of Darrowshire was enjoying a cloudless sky, and a warm afternoon. Tranquility moved throughout the area like a breeze, until it was stopped by the sound of clacking wood on a hilltop. An old man and a young man were sparring with two-handed strikes using long shafts of wood. Soon, the young man fell to the dirt after receiving an overhead blow on the back. By the look of it, this wasn’t the first time he had been floored. His lungs hungrily took in more air to disperse much needed oxygen throughout his body. After a few breaths, he wearily rose to his feet and fell into a stance.

Attributes	Values
rdfs:label	Symphony of a Nameless Blade
rdfs:comment	Nestled in the eastern foothills of Lordaeron, the small village of Darrowshire was enjoying a cloudless sky, and a warm afternoon. Tranquility moved throughout the area like a breeze, until it was stopped by the sound of clacking wood on a hilltop. An old man and a young man were sparring with two-handed strikes using long shafts of wood. Soon, the young man fell to the dirt after receiving an overhead blow on the back. By the look of it, this wasn’t the first time he had been floored. His lungs hungrily took in more air to disperse much needed oxygen throughout his body. After a few breaths, he wearily rose to his feet and fell into a stance.
dcterms:subject	Stories
dbkwik:earthenring...iPageUsesTemplate	dbkwik:resource/8LepC5Fckgnc0gIxzSaRhw== dbkwik:resource/i8yOB0BYsYTKCT_1rhLi8g==
Author	Aaryn
Title	Symphony of a Nameless Blade
authorcat	Aaryn
abstract	Nestled in the eastern foothills of Lordaeron, the small village of Darrowshire was enjoying a cloudless sky, and a warm afternoon. Tranquility moved throughout the area like a breeze, until it was stopped by the sound of clacking wood on a hilltop. An old man and a young man were sparring with two-handed strikes using long shafts of wood. Soon, the young man fell to the dirt after receiving an overhead blow on the back. By the look of it, this wasn’t the first time he had been floored. His lungs hungrily took in more air to disperse much needed oxygen throughout his body. After a few breaths, he wearily rose to his feet and fell into a stance. “Well, you’ve got determination, I’ll give you that. But determination alone won’t defeat anybody. Your blade is motivated by fear. You defend because you fear the pain of being hit, and you attack recklessly because you can’t control your fear and focus. Don’t come at me with your blade; come at me with your whole body and soul behind your strikes. That is the way of the Heartblade. That is how your father fought.” Yeah, and a lot of damn good it did him, the young man thought bitterly. ‘Daddy died saving us from the monsters.’ That was what his mother told him when he was a child and wanted to know why the other kids had fathers and he didn’t. The Heartblade was a philosophy of swordplay rather than an actual systemized style of combat. His father created it, or so he had been told, and the only man he taught it to was his brother. The young man wanted something more of his father than the memory of his mother’s words, so he asked his uncle to teach him the Heartblade. We’ll see who’s afraid, old man! He lunged forward as his wooden sword shot out towards his uncle’s chest. It would have connected had his uncle not side stepped the thrust and clipped the young man on the shin, sending him to the ground again. “I said to come with your whole body and soul, not piss and vinegar. Though if you’re going to replace fear with a single emotion it might as well be anger.” The young man limped as he got up and turned to face his uncle. “That’s enough training for one day. We’ll resume once you’ve recovered. Get some sleep for now. You have a long day at the barracks tomorrow”

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