Four-
Final Fantasy XII, Basch
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Basch took hold of Vaan's wrists and tugged them outwards, until Vaan's hands neatly divided the pole into thirds. "Not too close and not too distant," he said, adjusting the angle of Vaan's wrists. "And that maxim goes for the pole, as well. Forearms straight out, thus, holding the pole on a diagonal, thus."

"Okay," Vaan said, staring down at the middle section of the pole, his forehead creased in thought.

Basch studied him for a moment, then stuck the toe of his boot between Vaan's ankles and nudged them outwards. Vaan yelped and staggered before righting himself, his feet further apart. "Not too close and not too distant," Basch said again.

"Okay," Vaan said, now slightly exasperated.

"And shift your weight to the balls of your feet," Basch said. Vaan did so, quickly, before Basch could push him into position. Basch nodded. "Bend your knees a trice." Vaan did, dropping into a half-crouch and curling the pole against his chest. "Arms out, recall," Basch said, and Vaan stuck his forearms back out, the length of the pole springing away from him.

"Is that it?" Vaan asked, gingerly balanced on the balls of his feet like a motion-sick panther, either about to spring or fall over.

"Almost," said Basch, and he snatched his own pole from where it was leaning against the wall. "You must also remain light on your--" and the pole leaped out, sweeping Vaan's feet out from under him. Vaan crashed to the ground with a yelp, his pole clattering away. "--feet," Basch concluded, his own weapon's arc concluding with the pole stored neatly across his back. "Think quickly, mind you."

"You know," Balthier said, from his safe vantage point at the top of the Strahl's steps, "if I didn't know better I'd say you were enjoying yourself."

"I cannot fathom where you got such an idea, my friend," Basch said, offering the wincing Vaan a hand up.