[ How is it that Geralt's gone from going a hundred some-odd years never taking on a student, and now he has two within the space of a month? Three, if one counted Ciri, but Geralt doesn't if only because she's entirely come into her own, as far as he can tell.
Sam, on the other hand. There's work to be done. Geralt's offered after the...rising dead situation, seeing as Sam's clearly used to weapons that don't involve a long blade. Which is all that's available on this sphere. He means to teach Jaskier, too. May as well get the most out of the dull training sword he's acquired. (Besides, he owes Sam. For a fuck of a lot more than what a few lessons can cover, but it's a start.) He's considered doing it in the Horizon altogether, but the more they avoid ducking into that place too often, the better. Useful as it is, Geralt prefers not to rely on being there if they haven't got a need for it. And Sam will probably find the weight of a sword quicker to memorize if he can hold it in reality.
They're far enough out of the city, up on the hills away from prying eyes. It's early in the morning; the air's cool and there's just enough light out without the chance of running into any stray wanderers. Geralt's left his own weapon leaning against a tree, tucked inside a leather sheathe meant to sling over his shoulder rather than strap to his back: a more discreet method of carrying that he's found suitable for the city. No point in looking armed wherever he goes, when all he's doing is delivering monster bits.
The training sword, though—that, he's placed in Sam's hands. He wants to see what Sam can do, to start with, what edge his combat experience grants him even if he's not learned his way around a sword, so Geralt's simply invited Sam to attack. If there's any hesitation, Geralt will assure him he's unlikely to land a blow. Or at least it won't take anyone's head off if he does. His stance is loose, but there's a sharp, critical look in his eyes, one that suggests it doesn't matter if Sam's never touched a sword in his life. Now that Geralt's given him one, he intends to make him proficient with it if it's the last thing he does. ]
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Sam, on the other hand. There's work to be done. Geralt's offered after the...rising dead situation, seeing as Sam's clearly used to weapons that don't involve a long blade. Which is all that's available on this sphere. He means to teach Jaskier, too. May as well get the most out of the dull training sword he's acquired. (Besides, he owes Sam. For a fuck of a lot more than what a few lessons can cover, but it's a start.) He's considered doing it in the Horizon altogether, but the more they avoid ducking into that place too often, the better. Useful as it is, Geralt prefers not to rely on being there if they haven't got a need for it. And Sam will probably find the weight of a sword quicker to memorize if he can hold it in reality.
They're far enough out of the city, up on the hills away from prying eyes. It's early in the morning; the air's cool and there's just enough light out without the chance of running into any stray wanderers. Geralt's left his own weapon leaning against a tree, tucked inside a leather sheathe meant to sling over his shoulder rather than strap to his back: a more discreet method of carrying that he's found suitable for the city. No point in looking armed wherever he goes, when all he's doing is delivering monster bits.
The training sword, though—that, he's placed in Sam's hands. He wants to see what Sam can do, to start with, what edge his combat experience grants him even if he's not learned his way around a sword, so Geralt's simply invited Sam to attack. If there's any hesitation, Geralt will assure him he's unlikely to land a blow. Or at least it won't take anyone's head off if he does. His stance is loose, but there's a sharp, critical look in his eyes, one that suggests it doesn't matter if Sam's never touched a sword in his life. Now that Geralt's given him one, he intends to make him proficient with it if it's the last thing he does. ]