[Alaksoron]

"The Rohirrim horses are, indeed, the finest horses in the West, and I might say even in the known world." Osric Falkur said with a smile, but then his face grew serious. "Let us return to my question. I know that Tarondo is a swordsman, but I'd sooner think he would learn from me than I him. I am a blademaster, and a blademaster's sword is not something worn lightly." He paused, and drew his sword. "I could teach you to use the sword, if you like."

The blue-silver of the blade flashed in the sudden sunlight, for Osric had polished it only that morning, and it gleamed. It was a magnificent sword, indeed. The pommel was a silver wolfhead, highly detailed, with diamond eyes. The hilt was dark ebony, with a red-enameled serpent entwined over the guard. Taking it by the blade, dull edge on the inside of his palm, he extended it.

As Aidwain reached out to grasp the hilt, Falkur said "That is the proper way to hand a sword. There is your fist lesson for you, just to start." He flashed one of his rare smiles, and Aidwain knew he spoke teasingly.

As Aidwain hefted the sword, he noticed how remarkably light it was, how perfectly balanced. "That's Elven craftmanship," Osric spoke into his thoughts. "I call it Azar. Sindarin for lightning-blade." He said, sounding quite scholarly.