13th of Winter, 513 AV
This felt strange if Anna were being entirely honest with herself, actually that was an understatement. It felt downright weird to be standing outside the Citadel like this, facing an inanimate object like it was some kind of enemy to be felled. If Amaryllis could see her like this she'd probably die from laughter, actually that would probably be true for anyone who saw Anna standing out in the cold trying to get an awkward hold on her sword. Nuit were fragile creatures and humans were far more able to improve physically, Anna knew her body could easily become a deadly weapon if honed correctly. That still didn't change how ridiculous this was.
The tall woman stood some distance away from the Citadel proper, facing one of the trees that lined the path that led down to the Harbor. Her cloak was folded off to the side and her dagger laid atop it, to be used later. Her hair was up in its normal ponytail and other than the slight dark rings around her eyes she looked the picture of good health. The Sorceress held in her gloved hands a longsword, its tip facing towards the ground and its blade sharp and ready for use at a moment's notice. Rather it would be, if Anna knew the first thing about swords or rigorous physical activity. Which she unfortunately did not.
Right. So how do I hold this thing again? She wondered, adjusting her grip on the weapon.
It felt so heavy in her hands, its weight a foreign thing to her. She dealt in Djed manipulation, not swinging around a pigsticking sword like some uncouth barbarian. With a few errant gestures she could summon firestorms, fell men by the dozens, burn entire buildings to ash and dust. Compared to that, what was in a sword that could possibly compare?
In the end it came down to self defense and the need to learn some form of combat oriented techniques. She doubted she'd ever be a swordsmaster of legend and didn't particularly desire to be such a thing, however if she was going to survive the Heartlands she needed every advantage she could gain. Magic could do much, but why waste her Djed reserves when a blade could dispatch a threat just as easily?
Anna lifted the sword up out before her, adjusting her grip so that both hands had a somewhat firm grip on the hilt of the weapon. Again the weight of the weapon caught her off guard, her arms faltering slightly as she held the blade. She supposed that this was a good first step at least, she knew what end to hold and which to point away from her. For a perfectionist such as herself her ineptness here was rather embarrassing.
Right. So I've got a good grip, now what? Do I just start swinging? She thought, glancing at the tree that was to be her target.
With a mental shrug Anna drew the weapon back and slashed it into the side of the tree, still in her awkward stance. She regretted immediately when it jarred her arm rather painfully, steel meeting unyielding bark. Not only that but her poor stance nearly caused her to unbalance herself, her body not being able to compensate for the momentum of the weapon and her arms halting so suddenly.
She grimaced, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to right herself. That hadn't gone as planned, so obviously her balance had been off. Perhaps if she tried to right her stance, something like her Reimantic stances, the question was which one to use here?
When it came to Reimancy Anna had identified that each element possessed a different style and different primary use, as such she often held different stances and gestures for each one. Earth tended to be unyielding and defensive, air flighty and evasive, and fire was powerful and destructive. It helped to keep her focus and to keep herself centered on the element she sought to manipulate. Considering that her weapon possessed a primarily offensive use it seemed best to try and incorporate her fire stance.
Anna moved her feet apart, centering her body and moving one foot ahead of the other. Her blade was brought out before her again, but this time it felt a little better. It seemed her little theory had been accurate so all that remained was to try again. She smirked as she drew the weapon back and held it there for a moment as she lined up her strike. Then she swung it in a side slash.
As before the action jarred her arms, but the tree didn't have so much as a petching dent in it. That wounded her pride a little as she had swung with all her strength that time. Her stance had prevented her from slipping up again, but still she was obviously doing something wrong. The question was, what was it exactly?
