Idle flakes of snow fluttered down along the parapets and stone ground of the Whitebrim Front training grounds. The duties of the Holy See's knights were unremarkable, but practiced with quiet precision....perhaps to keep as much personal heat within as possible. The wind was still this day, mercifully, but the cold of Coerthas' peaks was as unrelenting as the resolve of those at station.
A fitting place for one to practice her technique.
Steel Wolf's was the only voice that was audible above the dull murmuring voices and muffled quiet of the snowfall. She roared and grunted with every swing of her axe as the fearsome weapon was carried through against a training dummy which was beginning to show the considerable wear of her efforts. Steel was hardly dressed for the elements--simple boots, a pair of leather bottoms, and a threadbare leather halter that only served to cover a woman's modesty. Her muscles strained and stretched in brutal beauty as she carried her weapon along its cadence. Steam rose off her pale-grey skin as sweat met the chill air. It felt good. It kept her moving at lengths of time that were not conducive to heat or to a more controlled climate--cold enough to refresh, but biting enough to provide resistance to her efforts.
Another loud yell. Another loud thunk. She was becoming agitated, but not in the manner as was shown her by the Marauder's Guild. Her rage was not focused through her axe edge, but rather on it, as the weapon buried itself in to the dummy's side. A lethal blow, but one that held her weapon put, leaving her open and halting her follow-through. Steel growled and freed the weapon from its prison, reset her stance, and tried again.
One.
Two.
Th--THUNK
Again, the weapon was lodged. Steel swore and forced her shoulder in to the haft of the axe, muscles pushing against the resistance. The weapon's edge freed itself, following through the rest of her stroke with a ringing of vibrating metal and the clattering of splintering wood. Her axehead clanged loudly in to the stone and Steel stepped to, following the momentum of the weapon's weight before standing there, panting.
She had been at this for hours, but still wasn't quite clear what was causing her poor form. She replayed the lessons in her mind, watched herself from a distance at her body's stance and swing's form. It all looked correct, but it wasn't connecting somehow. She swore to herself again, hefting the axe once more in a ready stance. It would be nice if someone would show her what she was missing.
Before she could start again, a voice called out behind her. "Madam! I believe that target is quite defeated. You will clear this ground to make way for the Holy See's detail."
Steel slowly looked over her shoulder, golden eye glaring at the speaker. She was a guest to this fort, to be sure....but she was hardly in the mood to be interrupted. The rest of her body turned, eyes locking upon the Ishgardian knight. She slowly stalked forward, the edge of the axe scraping viciously against the cold stone floor. She swung the weapon forward, the grinding sound ringing out in a metallic ring as the weapon's haft rested upon her shoulder. She was a mere foot away from the knight now, glowering down upon him. The knight, to his credit, did not waver from his position, but his body language had dropped considerably from one of command to one of apology.
"I will not clear this field until I am satisfied in my training...or I am shown ample instruction. And unless you wish to provide me with a new target or an attempt to force me thus...you will make your practice at another area of this ground."
Steel let the top points of her axe land on the stone with a loud thunk--an exclamation point to her threat. Her chest heaved as her breathing began to steady, but her muscles were not fully relaxed from her strain. She was ready for more...instruction or a fight, it mattered not. Though instruction was clearly preferred.
A fitting place for one to practice her technique.
Steel Wolf's was the only voice that was audible above the dull murmuring voices and muffled quiet of the snowfall. She roared and grunted with every swing of her axe as the fearsome weapon was carried through against a training dummy which was beginning to show the considerable wear of her efforts. Steel was hardly dressed for the elements--simple boots, a pair of leather bottoms, and a threadbare leather halter that only served to cover a woman's modesty. Her muscles strained and stretched in brutal beauty as she carried her weapon along its cadence. Steam rose off her pale-grey skin as sweat met the chill air. It felt good. It kept her moving at lengths of time that were not conducive to heat or to a more controlled climate--cold enough to refresh, but biting enough to provide resistance to her efforts.
Another loud yell. Another loud thunk. She was becoming agitated, but not in the manner as was shown her by the Marauder's Guild. Her rage was not focused through her axe edge, but rather on it, as the weapon buried itself in to the dummy's side. A lethal blow, but one that held her weapon put, leaving her open and halting her follow-through. Steel growled and freed the weapon from its prison, reset her stance, and tried again.
One.
Two.
Th--THUNK
Again, the weapon was lodged. Steel swore and forced her shoulder in to the haft of the axe, muscles pushing against the resistance. The weapon's edge freed itself, following through the rest of her stroke with a ringing of vibrating metal and the clattering of splintering wood. Her axehead clanged loudly in to the stone and Steel stepped to, following the momentum of the weapon's weight before standing there, panting.
She had been at this for hours, but still wasn't quite clear what was causing her poor form. She replayed the lessons in her mind, watched herself from a distance at her body's stance and swing's form. It all looked correct, but it wasn't connecting somehow. She swore to herself again, hefting the axe once more in a ready stance. It would be nice if someone would show her what she was missing.
Before she could start again, a voice called out behind her. "Madam! I believe that target is quite defeated. You will clear this ground to make way for the Holy See's detail."
Steel slowly looked over her shoulder, golden eye glaring at the speaker. She was a guest to this fort, to be sure....but she was hardly in the mood to be interrupted. The rest of her body turned, eyes locking upon the Ishgardian knight. She slowly stalked forward, the edge of the axe scraping viciously against the cold stone floor. She swung the weapon forward, the grinding sound ringing out in a metallic ring as the weapon's haft rested upon her shoulder. She was a mere foot away from the knight now, glowering down upon him. The knight, to his credit, did not waver from his position, but his body language had dropped considerably from one of command to one of apology.
"I will not clear this field until I am satisfied in my training...or I am shown ample instruction. And unless you wish to provide me with a new target or an attempt to force me thus...you will make your practice at another area of this ground."
Steel let the top points of her axe land on the stone with a loud thunk--an exclamation point to her threat. Her chest heaved as her breathing began to steady, but her muscles were not fully relaxed from her strain. She was ready for more...instruction or a fight, it mattered not. Though instruction was clearly preferred.
))
![[Image: inkedmatasig.png]](http://i207.photobucket.com/albums/bb223/quasarp/inkedmatasig.png)
