Davlamin sat as patiently as one could for one that had already been waiting for nearly two hours, the sun had already broken over the horizon and the forest was alive around him.

His attention was focused on the elf before him that sat cross legged on a large and flat boulder, a wooden practice sword set across his lap, naked from the waist up with his eyes closed in meditation.

Davlamin had come out before the sunrise, as instructed, and waited. He was excited at first, to unravel the secrets that he had only begun to tap into. Master the ways of the elves and absorb everything he could. Yet, all this Master Yusill did was sit.

Enough was enough Davlamin decided, he grabbed the practice sword he had been given and walked into a circle that was outlined by rocks. He had had some practice sessions with the longsword before and this wooden sword was made to resemble one. He ran through the couple of moves he did know parry, parry, block, thrust.

He repeated the process, fighting an imaginary foe as he waited, his swings getting more bold as he feinted, lunged, spun in circles and interchanged punches and kicks with whomever it was he was fighting in his head.