Damien
"I never see you at the club!"
Okay? I never see you at the creek
Okay? I never see you at the creek
Damien huffed a low laugh, shaking his head. “Leviathan scale? If I’m meant to punch you in that, I’ll be walking out with more broken bones than you.” His eyes flicked over the plates again, respect clear in the weight of his look. “So unless you’re trying to send me home in a sling, I’ll need something else to swing.”
He glanced past Deimos, spotting one of the soldiers with a quarterstaff leaned easy against his shoulder. Damien tipped his chin toward it. “Mind if I borrow that for a bit?” The soldier passed it over without argument, and Damien gave the staff a quick test in his grip, rolling the wood in his palms. Solid, with a little flex, and—most importantly—blunt.
“That's better,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone, before setting his stance across from Deimos. He brought the staff up, one end braced low, the other angled toward the Warden. “Alright then,” he shrugged his shoulders a few times to drop muscle tension, voice carrying that dry edge again, “let's see how much this armor of yours can take.”
Without much else of a warning, he stepped in with measured footing, nothing flashy, and brought the quarterstaff around in a clean arc. Not a full strike—just enough weight behind it to test the feel of wood against scale. Truthfully, Damien was a little worried he'd bounce off.
He glanced past Deimos, spotting one of the soldiers with a quarterstaff leaned easy against his shoulder. Damien tipped his chin toward it. “Mind if I borrow that for a bit?” The soldier passed it over without argument, and Damien gave the staff a quick test in his grip, rolling the wood in his palms. Solid, with a little flex, and—most importantly—blunt.
“That's better,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone, before setting his stance across from Deimos. He brought the staff up, one end braced low, the other angled toward the Warden. “Alright then,” he shrugged his shoulders a few times to drop muscle tension, voice carrying that dry edge again, “let's see how much this armor of yours can take.”
Without much else of a warning, he stepped in with measured footing, nothing flashy, and brought the quarterstaff around in a clean arc. Not a full strike—just enough weight behind it to test the feel of wood against scale. Truthfully, Damien was a little worried he'd bounce off.
(Training 1/4)
