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At night, outside the gates of Stormwind.

The refugee camp was quiet in the rain. On most nights, there would be singing, laughter, or crying now and then. Tonight, there was none of that.

From the woods a few hundred yards away, they could still see the camp's faint lights.

Gred held a wooden stick that was only just straight enough to use. He paced back and forth as he spoke. "Dwarves used to fight with swords mainly against enemies in heavy armor. Every dwarf clan knows how to make all kinds of armor, and Khaz Modan has never been short of metal ore. The Bronzebeards and Dark Irons still follow the old ways, because they've got old enemies to watch out for. But the Wildhammers are different. These days, we prefer fighting enemies in light armor. Most of our enemies are trolls, and the forest trolls that liked wearing heavy armor were burned to death by the pointy-ears' magic over the last few thousand years."

"So which kind should I learn?" Jess wiped rain off his forehead and eyebrows. "Fighting enemies without armor, or enemies in heavy armor?"

"The first kind, of course," Gred said. "Can you picture a gnoll dressed up like a walking tin can? Remember their leader, the one who kept yelling 'Hag, Hag'? He only had one piece of armor on him, a shoulder plate he'd stolen from an orc."

"Speaking of the Blackrock orcs..." He grabbed his beard. "Don't worry. After a few years fighting those Dark Iron idiots north of Redridge, they won't have any decent armor left, either. Come on. Attack me. Show me the sword moves you've seen."

Jess looked at the dwarf, then at the long stick in his own hand. He weighed it for a moment and tried to remember the swordsmanship he'd witnessed.

He hadn't seen many real sword fights. Gred's duel with that elf on the slope was the most frightening one he'd ever watched.

Most of the other so-called fights he'd seen were just people rushing each other and swinging whatever weapons they had. They'd clash and clang away without hitting anyone, then someone would get grazed, howl, stumble back several steps, and refuse to go in again.

So he searched through memories from his old life. Games and movies... Mount & Blade, Star Wars, The Witcher, For Honor, Game of Thrones.

He tightened his grip on the stick and wiped rain from his eyes. "I'm ready."

"Come on, then." The dwarf beckoned, holding his own stick out slightly with one hand. Jess guessed he was ready to knock Jess's attack aside.

Jess suddenly stepped forward and swung diagonally. The dwarf brushed the strike away with ease. Jess thought he'd spin around and deliver a beautiful, powerful slash, just like the great swordsmen in the movies. He was only halfway through the turn when Gred tapped the back of his neck.

"What are you doing? Turning around to run away?" Gred asked with a frown.

Embarrassed, Jess demonstrated what he'd been trying to do. "I wanted to turn like this and swing. Wouldn't that make the strike stronger?"

"Maybe." Gred tossed the braid stuck to his neck over his shoulder. "But you need to catch your opponent off guard. Try a move like that when there's distance to close quickly, when you're fighting several enemies and need room, or when your opponent's off balance and can't attack right away. Don't just memorize a routine and follow it every time!"

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The dwarf was getting impatient. He kept moving his stick as he explained.

"Most important of all, be fast! Fast! Don't wave your sword around like some bard showing off tricks. You're trying to kill an enemy, not get him to toss you a few copper coins!"

He stopped demonstrating and pointed at Jess. "Look, you're a beginner. A human beginner, at that. Don't try fancy moves beyond what your body can handle. Get the basics right first."

"Keep control of your weapon. Don't let it swing too far out of your control, especially behind your back. Keep your sword point aimed at your opponent whenever you can. Make sure you're always a threat."

Then the dwarf made a quick series of diagonal cuts, downward cuts, and thrusts. There were no huge, heavy chops or wide swings.

"Like that. Every strike is fast and sudden, so it's hard to predict. Don't dance. I'll say it again: don't dance around in a fight like that elf."

Gred sighed. "To be fair, I'm not saying his style doesn't work. That sword dance is dangerous. Very dangerous. It can fool an opponent badly. But only elves can pull it off. They're built nothing like you. Forest trolls and elves from Quel'Thalas can do things you wouldn't believe. They're like a bunch of six- or seven-foot mongooses bouncing around a battlefield. You're human. You need to find ways to deal with those moves, not copy them."

He leaned against a small tree. "Here's an example. If an ogre loses his weapon, he might just pull this tree out of the ground and keep fighting you with it. You can't do that. But you have to know he might. And you have to use the fact that he'll move more slowly after pulling it up, and that he'll tire himself out faster. Turn that into an advantage for yourself. Understand?"

"Got it," Jess said.

"Let's try again." Gred shook the water from his head. "I'll correct your movements as we go. We'll find what works best for a human."

Jess nodded. This time he forgot about all those flashy sword dances and thought about Olympic fencers instead.

They were fast and unpredictable, with their sword points aimed straight at their opponents. Their weapons stayed under control. That sounded exactly like what Gred wanted.

He turned sideways and held the stick in one hand. After a deep breath, he took a long step forward, splashing rainwater aside, and shot his right arm out in a sudden thrust at Gred.

The dwarf's eyes widened. He took a quick step back and knocked the stick away, looking genuinely surprised. Jess didn't hesitate. He followed up with another step and another thrust. This time Gred caught the attack, twisted his stick, and knocked Jess's weapon out of his hand.

Gred picked it up and handed it back. "Who taught you that, eh?"

"I've watched other people do it," Jess said.

"Lordaeron nobles?" Gred asked. "It's dangerous, I'll give you that. But for all its strengths, it has serious limits."

"You can tell from the way you move. That's the kind of reckless lunge nobles use in their little dueling games. It looks pretty, but even those nobles wouldn't use it against a real enemy. If you make a mistake on a battlefield, nobody's going to stop the fight just because you've been touched. I'm teaching you swordsmanship to keep you alive, not to help you show off for women. If you want to impress a woman, you've got another sword you can use. You can thrust with that one, too, and it'll do you a lot more good."

Gred patted his crotch and went on. "Besides, this stick's a bit light. With a heavier real sword, you won't be able to move that fast. I'll have an easier time blocking your attack or knocking your weapon away, and then you'll be helpless. Unless you're a mage, anyway. Right. Watch me, then copy what I do. Basics first."

Watching the dwarf practice careful downward cuts and upward strikes, Jess felt a little ashamed.

Swordsmanship and fighting skills took years of practice and real combat to develop. How could he expect to beat an experienced enemy with tricks he'd picked up from who knew where?

He needed to improve patiently, one step at a time. Gred was willing to teach him like this. The least Jess could do in return was work harder and take it seriously, instead of looking for shortcuts.

Thanks to years of physical labor, Jess was in decent shape. He managed to imitate Gred's moves fairly well.

Seeing how seriously Jess was practicing, Gred couldn't help smiling. "That's it! That's more like it, my little Jess. Once you've got these moves down, I'll teach you a few more. Then you can practice on your own whenever you've got time, and I won't have to watch you every night. But you'd better keep at it!"

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