Alex and Emily stood in front of the guild's weapon armory, a large, open building filled with racks of weapons. Swords, spears, axes, bows, and more were neatly arranged, each glinting under the warm light of the room. Darren stood behind them, arms crossed and a grin on his face.
"Every adventurer needs a weapon they can rely on," Darren said. "Today, you'll pick your main weapons and learn how to use them. The choice is yours, but choose wisely. Your weapon reflects who you are and how you fight."
Alex wandered through the armory, his eyes scanning the swords and spears. Yet none of them felt right. He was fast, agile, and preferred precision over brute strength. A heavy weapon didn't suit him, and something about a bow seemed too distant. Then, his gaze landed on a set of daggers—a pair of sleek blades with curved edges, designed for speed and close combat.
He picked them up, feeling their weight in his hands. They were light and sharp, perfectly balanced. As he gripped them, something clicked inside him.
"These," Alex said, turning to Darren.
Darren raised an eyebrow. "Interesting choice. Daggers require speed, precision, and a certain amount of nerve. Why those?"
Alex looked at the blades. "They feel… natural. Like an extension of me. I want to move fast and strike when the opportunity comes. These fit."
Darren chuckled. "A good answer. If you're choosing daggers, you'll need to learn how to dance with them. Daggers are useless without footwork. Follow me."
Darren led Alex to a training circle outside, where a veteran rogue named Silas waited. Silas was slim and wiry, his daggers spinning in his hands with practiced ease.
"Footwork is the key to using daggers effectively," Silas said. "You don't stand still. You weave, dart, and pivot. You become unpredictable. This style is called Shadow Step. It's about staying one step ahead of your opponent and always being in the perfect position to strike."
Silas demonstrated, his feet gliding across the ground in a series of fluid, precise movements. He twisted, ducked, and sidestepped as if avoiding invisible attacks, his daggers flashing in imaginary counters.
"Now, you try," Silas said, motioning to Alex.
At first, Alex stumbled, his movements clumsy and awkward. But Silas was patient, breaking the technique down step by step. Over the course of the day, Alex began to find his rhythm. The movements became smoother, and his strikes more deliberate.
"You're catching on," Silas said. "Keep practicing. One day, Shadow Step will be second nature to you."
Emily moved through the armory with more hesitation. She wasn't a fighter, but she needed a way to defend herself. Her eyes fell on a wooden staff, its polished surface adorned with small carvings. She picked it up, feeling its weight. It wasn't sharp like a blade, but it felt sturdy and reliable.
"This," she said quietly.
Darren nodded. "A staff. A good choice for a healer. It can protect you and others."
Emily glanced at the rack of throwables nearby—knives, stars, and other small weapons. Something about them caught her attention.
"What about these?" she asked.
Darren smirked. "Interesting. A staff for defense and throwables for offense. You've got a strategist's mind. Let's get you trained."
Emily's instructor, a calm and analytical elf named Nira, led her to a smaller training area.
"Your weapon choices suit your role," Nira said. "The staff will help you keep enemies at bay and provide you with balance. But the throwables—those make you a wildcard. You can attack from a distance, disrupt enemies, or create opportunities for your allies."
Nira taught Emily the basics of staff combat—blocks, spins, and strikes to disable enemies without putting herself at too much risk. Emily practiced diligently, her confidence growing with each swing.
For throwables, Nira set up targets at various distances. She taught Emily how to hold, aim, and release with precision. At first, Emily's aim was off, her knives clattering against the walls. But with Nira's guidance, she improved, her strikes becoming more accurate and consistent.
"Remember," Nira said, "throwables are about more than hitting the target. They're about timing and strategy. Use them to control the battlefield."
By the afternoon, Alex and Emily trained together in a throwing knife session. Silas and Nira guided them, showing them how to conceal knives for surprise attacks and throw with speed and accuracy.
"Throwing knives are about instinct," Silas said. "You need to feel the weight of the knife, the motion of the throw, and the moment of release."
Alex excelled, his precision honed by his dagger training. Emily, while slower, demonstrated a natural understanding of timing and positioning.
"You're both doing well," Darren said, observing their progress. "These skills will serve you in combat and survival. But remember, your weapons are tools. It's your mind and instincts that make you dangerous."
As the sun set, Alex and Emily sat together, their bodies sore from training but their spirits high. Alex spun one of his daggers in his hand, the motion becoming familiar.
"I think I'm starting to get the hang of this," he said.
Emily smiled, twirling her staff. "Me too. It feels… right."
Alex nodded, looking at his friend. "We're getting stronger. We'll make it back home. Together."
Emily's eyes softened. "Yeah. Together."