I need to grow, here I could be, Don't have to do this perfectly
Respect for the General only grew as he assured Chulane that he still practiced, still had things to learn. He supposed it was like becoming a master in anything - even as a master, one was always a student to their chosen craft, always learning new techniques, always honing, refining and striving to perfect it. Chulane was, so far, very much a beginner, a novice - everything was new to him about this craft, at least practicality (he had admired it greatly in TV series and movies, he knew the theoretical already). He gave a grateful nod and return slanted smile, understanding clear.
The thought of attacking the Sword was enough to make anyone hesitate, images of himself being rendered limbless or headless from a mere tap of the General's sword against him. He swallowed and banished the thought away as quickly as he could though - this was all a part of the training. Swinging a sword was all well and good; swinging a sword against an actual opponent was a whole other game. He stretched, testing his reach, his fatigue, his cursed skin, and then took a moment to decide on how he would approach the task set before him. Then, readying his 'blade', he began.
By some stroke of luck he rolled a 19 woo he found himself executing the first motion that Deimos had taught him with surprising accuracy and precision. His weapon swung sharply towards his would-be foe's shoulder, the motion of his feet and torso preparing his body to dodge a likely counterattack, his aim straight and true, his strength fair (though compared to the other man's still woefully insignificant).
The thought of attacking the Sword was enough to make anyone hesitate, images of himself being rendered limbless or headless from a mere tap of the General's sword against him. He swallowed and banished the thought away as quickly as he could though - this was all a part of the training. Swinging a sword was all well and good; swinging a sword against an actual opponent was a whole other game. He stretched, testing his reach, his fatigue, his cursed skin, and then took a moment to decide on how he would approach the task set before him. Then, readying his 'blade', he began.
By some stroke of luck he rolled a 19 woo he found himself executing the first motion that Deimos had taught him with surprising accuracy and precision. His weapon swung sharply towards his would-be foe's shoulder, the motion of his feet and torso preparing his body to dodge a likely counterattack, his aim straight and true, his strength fair (though compared to the other man's still woefully insignificant).
CHULANE
