Straw tore and billowed in a manner most satisfying, and Jigano felt pleased indeed at the success of his strike. He glanced over to the chuckle behind him, a sly grin on his features as he tilted his head in acknowledgment that his previous attempt had held more enthusiasm than grace, but glad that he'd been able to reassert his more usual panache in the end. A little water, a little stretching, a clearer head, and the results spoke for themselves.
He nodded in admiration of Weaver's return to lethal form, and offered Evie a sympathetic wince as the staff proved an unwieldy weapon for the normally-agile apothecary. Oliver's sudden success earned a quirk of a smile and a nod of agreement with Deimos's instruction and praise, but he stayed quiet to let the General lead the exercise.
For a moment he thought that they were done, targets successfully disarmed and staves more or less held well in hand. Deimos had one more challenge in store for them, however, and Jigano arched a brow at the next lesson and the partners chosen. Oliver had acquitted himself well, though, and they were both equally matched as far as one bad strike and one good one, so the bard nodded affably and took up position across from the young man. "When you're ready," he said, same as he had to Weaver, and once Oliver had taken his stance the bard stepped forward to push, shift aside, strike down--
And then twist his staff up, trying to catch the other man's stave and send it flying.
He nodded in admiration of Weaver's return to lethal form, and offered Evie a sympathetic wince as the staff proved an unwieldy weapon for the normally-agile apothecary. Oliver's sudden success earned a quirk of a smile and a nod of agreement with Deimos's instruction and praise, but he stayed quiet to let the General lead the exercise.
For a moment he thought that they were done, targets successfully disarmed and staves more or less held well in hand. Deimos had one more challenge in store for them, however, and Jigano arched a brow at the next lesson and the partners chosen. Oliver had acquitted himself well, though, and they were both equally matched as far as one bad strike and one good one, so the bard nodded affably and took up position across from the young man. "When you're ready," he said, same as he had to Weaver, and once Oliver had taken his stance the bard stepped forward to push, shift aside, strike down--
And then twist his staff up, trying to catch the other man's stave and send it flying.
