62nd of Spring, 522 AV
It was late afternoon when Cleon decided to start training. After his meeting with Uta it had been on his mind all night, and throughout today as he realized how little he knew about using the tools at his disposal. There was the machete, the bow, and the ax, all three of which he had hardly touched since procuring. He supposed he didn’t have much of a reason to, but he knew that would not be the case forever. Better that he become acquainted now, and not need it, then need it and not have the know how.
He decided to start with the machete since it was a form that he could wrap his head around. A long, fat knife basically. While not the most accurate description it helped put it into a context he could understand for getting a feel for the weapon. Its parts were intuitive as well. A handle for gripping, a shallow guard that he supposed was there to keep him from cutting himself, and of course the long, flat blade with a sharpened edge put on one side. That would be the side he would want to hit with probably.
Gripping it by the handle he slashed it through the air wildly in front of himself. He had chosen his ground well, a relatively empty patch of beach where anyone could see him long before they had to cross paths with him, and of course, he would see them. As he swung he got a feel for how the blade felt when it reached the end of its swing, how it felt in the muscles of his arm to pull the machete back up to swing again. At once he could tell that he was using muscles that he had never used before, or at least couldn’t remember using. Ones in the interior of his forearm and along the backside of his arm all the way up to the shoulder. It felt different then pounding out a rough shape with a chisel. More graceful perhaps.
While swinging he also got focused on how it affected his grip. How the handle moved in his fingers, how tightly did he need to hold it before it felt like it might slip out of his grasp. What did it feel like at each stage of the arch in his swing. In essence he was getting a feel of the balance of the blade though he didn’t know contextually what he was doing. He was just getting a sense of what was to come but he realized his understanding would remain incomplete until he actually struck a solid object.
Trees were the first thing that came to mind, but he quickly dismissed that idea because he didn’t want to cause such purposeless damage. Driftwood was much more preferable but not exactly on hand as far as he could tell looking along the beach for as far as he could see. He would comb the beach more thoroughly later, for now he would just have to do with getting a sense of the feel of each of his weapons.
WC - 520
He decided to start with the machete since it was a form that he could wrap his head around. A long, fat knife basically. While not the most accurate description it helped put it into a context he could understand for getting a feel for the weapon. Its parts were intuitive as well. A handle for gripping, a shallow guard that he supposed was there to keep him from cutting himself, and of course the long, flat blade with a sharpened edge put on one side. That would be the side he would want to hit with probably.
Gripping it by the handle he slashed it through the air wildly in front of himself. He had chosen his ground well, a relatively empty patch of beach where anyone could see him long before they had to cross paths with him, and of course, he would see them. As he swung he got a feel for how the blade felt when it reached the end of its swing, how it felt in the muscles of his arm to pull the machete back up to swing again. At once he could tell that he was using muscles that he had never used before, or at least couldn’t remember using. Ones in the interior of his forearm and along the backside of his arm all the way up to the shoulder. It felt different then pounding out a rough shape with a chisel. More graceful perhaps.
While swinging he also got focused on how it affected his grip. How the handle moved in his fingers, how tightly did he need to hold it before it felt like it might slip out of his grasp. What did it feel like at each stage of the arch in his swing. In essence he was getting a feel of the balance of the blade though he didn’t know contextually what he was doing. He was just getting a sense of what was to come but he realized his understanding would remain incomplete until he actually struck a solid object.
Trees were the first thing that came to mind, but he quickly dismissed that idea because he didn’t want to cause such purposeless damage. Driftwood was much more preferable but not exactly on hand as far as he could tell looking along the beach for as far as he could see. He would comb the beach more thoroughly later, for now he would just have to do with getting a sense of the feel of each of his weapons.
WC - 520
