At least she managed not to make a complete ass of herself this round. The arrow flies to its target, and she lets out the breath she was holding. It may be her worst weapon, but there was still some part of her that hated being bad at anything when it came to fighting. Not that she didn’t have plenty to learn, but still, she did like to be at least somewhat formidable. Maybe that’s why she hates the bow so much. It is harder to cover her mistakes.
Weaver returns her bow, quiver, and bracer to the place where she had gotten them from, thankful that they are moving on to something she is more comfortable with. Granted, she is not particularly formal in her skills, and as such, she expects this entire thing to be something of a challenge. To learn proper form and actually keep it was something she had never excelled at. Instead, Weaver simply fought like she had nothing to lose, and took risks when she should not.
Weaver pulls the scythe from her back, taking her position before one of the targets with yet another face. He tells them to pick their weakest move, and she returns Jiango’s rueful smile with a shrug. Her weapon did not lend itself as well to forehand attacks, given the design of the blade. Her mother had been clever, and the blade was double edged, allowing Weaver to use either side. Yet Weaver favored coming around a target and pulling, using the wicked curve of the blade to her advantage.
This time she watches as Deimos demonstrates for Evie and Oliver, curious how he approaches basic moves. She can adapt most sword techniques to her own weapon, though it is never exactly the same. She watches for a while until the motions feel like memory, and turns her attention to her own target. She holds the shaft with both hands, angled across her body, the blade above her right shoulder.
It is here she deviates, lunging forward with her right leg and dropping the blade down toward the ground and then back up, the blade sweeping up toward the target from below. The goal, in a real fight, is to get under the defenses of someone else, to feign a normal assault from above and change it at the last second. She’s not often fast enough to make it work, so now seems like a good time to practice.
Weaver returns her bow, quiver, and bracer to the place where she had gotten them from, thankful that they are moving on to something she is more comfortable with. Granted, she is not particularly formal in her skills, and as such, she expects this entire thing to be something of a challenge. To learn proper form and actually keep it was something she had never excelled at. Instead, Weaver simply fought like she had nothing to lose, and took risks when she should not.
Weaver pulls the scythe from her back, taking her position before one of the targets with yet another face. He tells them to pick their weakest move, and she returns Jiango’s rueful smile with a shrug. Her weapon did not lend itself as well to forehand attacks, given the design of the blade. Her mother had been clever, and the blade was double edged, allowing Weaver to use either side. Yet Weaver favored coming around a target and pulling, using the wicked curve of the blade to her advantage.
This time she watches as Deimos demonstrates for Evie and Oliver, curious how he approaches basic moves. She can adapt most sword techniques to her own weapon, though it is never exactly the same. She watches for a while until the motions feel like memory, and turns her attention to her own target. She holds the shaft with both hands, angled across her body, the blade above her right shoulder.
It is here she deviates, lunging forward with her right leg and dropping the blade down toward the ground and then back up, the blade sweeping up toward the target from below. The goal, in a real fight, is to get under the defenses of someone else, to feign a normal assault from above and change it at the last second. She’s not often fast enough to make it work, so now seems like a good time to practice.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
