Cylus 4, Arc 722
Cylus on Faldrass wasn’t quite as bad as Cylus in other parts of Scalvoris – while it was dark and cold, there was that nice orange sand – but Devin had decided to move his combat training – his personal training as well as the training for the employees – inside for the duration of winter, nevertheless. Miranda, the head maid, had graciously allowed him to use the ballroom when there were no balls or similar events, provided that nothing got damaged, and he cleaned up again afterwards (Even though he was the man in charge, Devin had decided to always ask his staff for permission and let them have a say – he wanted to have a good relationship with them and not be seen as a tyrant who did as he pleased).
So, that was where the young man that was dressed in a pretty white training ensemble and hard toe shoes (for safety reasons) and that wore a headband with fake snowballs made of cotton and glitter (because snow-themed accessories were in fashion that season) was at the moment. He had to admit, he liked training in such an overwhelmingly luxurious environment much better than training in the garden.
He had decided that he would master every type of weapon there was, or at least every type of bladed weapon there was, and all other skills that he could think of in general. He already knew how to wield one-handed and two-handed bladed weapons, and he could even use two swords at the same time. He really wanted to show off his skill at The Proving Ground or a similar place one trial, because he liked winning and being admired, and because you could only progress so far if you always had the same sparring partners or practiced on your own.
Before he was ready for that, there was one more thing that he wanted to learn though.
You couldn’t only stick blades into other people, monsters or targets in general, you could also throw them. Throwing a bastard sword or even a short sword seemed like a challenge at best and a potential disaster at worst though, so, Devin had procured a set of throwing knives. They were made of steel, which was a bit of a boring metal, to be honest, but their handles were made of gold which made up for that boringness, to some extent at least.
Since he didn’t want to create any holes in the pretty walls, Devin had set up a circular target in the center of the ballroom, far away from any pieces of furniture, paintings and other things that might get damaged. It was made of some sort of wood from what he could tell, and there were several circles, in blue, red, white and black, on it.
He had also covered the floor around the target with a number of big blankets, so as to not accidentally poke any holes into it. He didn’t think that he’d hit the floor instead of his target – he was quite a skilled swordsman which should translate to throwing blades reasonably well in his opinion – but it was better to err on the side of caution anyway.
Finally, he had brought a book. Mistress Alina’s guide to sword fighting had taught him how valuable a bit of advice from an expert was, so, he had gotten a guide to thrown weapons this time.
For the time being, the book remained untouched though.
If he was already skilled with a number of different blades, he might be able to manage without any kind of instructions. With that thought in mind, he grabbed the first throwing knife, made a step forward, lined the tip of the blade up with the center of the target - and let go. His eyesight was quite fantastic, so he had no doubt that he'd do well. To his surprise, his knife didn't hit the center of the target though. It didn't even hit the target itself.
It landed somewhere on the blanket in front of it.
He frowned and briefly wondered if either the knife or the target – or both - were broken.
After a few moments of doubting his knife, he decided to do something slightly more productive, opened the book instead and checked the chapter that dealt with the correct grip.
From his lessons in sword fighting (both the ones where he had been the student and the ones where he had been the teacher) he knew that holding your weapon correctly was important, and that you needed to learn how to hold your weapon correctly before you learned how to hit things with it.
The book came with a lot of diagrams and pictures of hands with various sorts of throwing knives and throwing daggers in them.
The author’s main advice seemed to be to hold your throwing knife as you would a hammer - which caused Devin to furrow his brow for a moment as he tried to remember how he usually held a hammer. He didn’t hold hammers very often because he wasn’t really into woodworking and such, and he didn’t really think about it when he did.
Grumbling ever slightly, he looked through the book some more in order to see if the author provided readers with an alternative to holding knives like hammers, or more detailed instructions, at the very least, and came across another picture of a hand holding a knife with a few lines under it.
He took a look, grabbed the second throwing knife (The first knife was still lying on the blanket in front of the target because he hadn’t seen a reason to pick it up; he still had four more.) and then he tried to copy what he saw, making sure to keep his thumb on top of his other fingers, like the book said that he should.
Finally gave it another try – with questionable non-existent success.
Again.
Cylus on Faldrass wasn’t quite as bad as Cylus in other parts of Scalvoris – while it was dark and cold, there was that nice orange sand – but Devin had decided to move his combat training – his personal training as well as the training for the employees – inside for the duration of winter, nevertheless. Miranda, the head maid, had graciously allowed him to use the ballroom when there were no balls or similar events, provided that nothing got damaged, and he cleaned up again afterwards (Even though he was the man in charge, Devin had decided to always ask his staff for permission and let them have a say – he wanted to have a good relationship with them and not be seen as a tyrant who did as he pleased).
So, that was where the young man that was dressed in a pretty white training ensemble and hard toe shoes (for safety reasons) and that wore a headband with fake snowballs made of cotton and glitter (because snow-themed accessories were in fashion that season) was at the moment. He had to admit, he liked training in such an overwhelmingly luxurious environment much better than training in the garden.
He had decided that he would master every type of weapon there was, or at least every type of bladed weapon there was, and all other skills that he could think of in general. He already knew how to wield one-handed and two-handed bladed weapons, and he could even use two swords at the same time. He really wanted to show off his skill at The Proving Ground or a similar place one trial, because he liked winning and being admired, and because you could only progress so far if you always had the same sparring partners or practiced on your own.
Before he was ready for that, there was one more thing that he wanted to learn though.
You couldn’t only stick blades into other people, monsters or targets in general, you could also throw them. Throwing a bastard sword or even a short sword seemed like a challenge at best and a potential disaster at worst though, so, Devin had procured a set of throwing knives. They were made of steel, which was a bit of a boring metal, to be honest, but their handles were made of gold which made up for that boringness, to some extent at least.
Since he didn’t want to create any holes in the pretty walls, Devin had set up a circular target in the center of the ballroom, far away from any pieces of furniture, paintings and other things that might get damaged. It was made of some sort of wood from what he could tell, and there were several circles, in blue, red, white and black, on it.
He had also covered the floor around the target with a number of big blankets, so as to not accidentally poke any holes into it. He didn’t think that he’d hit the floor instead of his target – he was quite a skilled swordsman which should translate to throwing blades reasonably well in his opinion – but it was better to err on the side of caution anyway.
Finally, he had brought a book. Mistress Alina’s guide to sword fighting had taught him how valuable a bit of advice from an expert was, so, he had gotten a guide to thrown weapons this time.
For the time being, the book remained untouched though.
If he was already skilled with a number of different blades, he might be able to manage without any kind of instructions. With that thought in mind, he grabbed the first throwing knife, made a step forward, lined the tip of the blade up with the center of the target - and let go. His eyesight was quite fantastic, so he had no doubt that he'd do well. To his surprise, his knife didn't hit the center of the target though. It didn't even hit the target itself.
It landed somewhere on the blanket in front of it.
He frowned and briefly wondered if either the knife or the target – or both - were broken.
After a few moments of doubting his knife, he decided to do something slightly more productive, opened the book instead and checked the chapter that dealt with the correct grip.
From his lessons in sword fighting (both the ones where he had been the student and the ones where he had been the teacher) he knew that holding your weapon correctly was important, and that you needed to learn how to hold your weapon correctly before you learned how to hit things with it.
The book came with a lot of diagrams and pictures of hands with various sorts of throwing knives and throwing daggers in them.
The author’s main advice seemed to be to hold your throwing knife as you would a hammer - which caused Devin to furrow his brow for a moment as he tried to remember how he usually held a hammer. He didn’t hold hammers very often because he wasn’t really into woodworking and such, and he didn’t really think about it when he did.
Grumbling ever slightly, he looked through the book some more in order to see if the author provided readers with an alternative to holding knives like hammers, or more detailed instructions, at the very least, and came across another picture of a hand holding a knife with a few lines under it.
He took a look, grabbed the second throwing knife (The first knife was still lying on the blanket in front of the target because he hadn’t seen a reason to pick it up; he still had four more.) and then he tried to copy what he saw, making sure to keep his thumb on top of his other fingers, like the book said that he should.
Finally gave it another try – with questionable non-existent success.
Again.
