06-13-2009, 12:07 AM
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Got your PM!
Nope! It’s fine by me, ^=^. Also, I thought here she may be opened to kill him, but I left it open just in case you had anything further planned, OuO
And here is spear hand: picture. It’s called 관수 (Gwan-Soo) in Korean, ^=^. As weak as it looks, when done properly it’s very effective.
300+
The smell of blood from his severed fingers rose in the air, almost delightfully overcoming the stale smell of the bog. He grabbed her ankle and she knew that there was no immediate escape from that grip that practically closed about it unless she released the sword, and she knew that she could not relinquish the sword. HawkWind had made it quite clear that the obsidian monster’s head must be taken, must be severed. The mistake of King Malros from the tale that had been regaled had cost him his life and the permitted persistence of this monster of Vengeance. Obsidon was recoiled, gripped now with the blade pointing to the earth should she have been standing. But with the blade held in that way, it did not catch upon the earth and she hit the tree painfully. For a brief moment the warrior shut her eyes against it, falling to the earth. She could hear his approach and knew that if she did not move, Death literally would be at her throat.
He approached swiftly, but the warrior, despite the pain of the impact that had jarred her insides, was already moving with equal speed. Instead of rising, she remained upon the earth, her white orbs riveted upon the bone white gaze of this enemy—in this way she revealed nothing of what she intended to do. When he was near enough, her leg shot out, catching him behind the knees as she braced herself with her hands upon the earth, her right still gripping the handle of the prone blade. Regardless of strength, this technique always worked—it was simply anatomy. Turning completely and rising, she brought the blade around to catch him at the neck, Obsidon responding as it easily cut that path in the air. Her other hand came about to grip the blade, using now the weight of that blade and the momentum she had gathered to cut into the neck and spill his blood upon the murky waters of the marsh.
Got your PM!
Nope! It’s fine by me, ^=^. Also, I thought here she may be opened to kill him, but I left it open just in case you had anything further planned, OuO
And here is spear hand: picture. It’s called 관수 (Gwan-Soo) in Korean, ^=^. As weak as it looks, when done properly it’s very effective.
300+
The smell of blood from his severed fingers rose in the air, almost delightfully overcoming the stale smell of the bog. He grabbed her ankle and she knew that there was no immediate escape from that grip that practically closed about it unless she released the sword, and she knew that she could not relinquish the sword. HawkWind had made it quite clear that the obsidian monster’s head must be taken, must be severed. The mistake of King Malros from the tale that had been regaled had cost him his life and the permitted persistence of this monster of Vengeance. Obsidon was recoiled, gripped now with the blade pointing to the earth should she have been standing. But with the blade held in that way, it did not catch upon the earth and she hit the tree painfully. For a brief moment the warrior shut her eyes against it, falling to the earth. She could hear his approach and knew that if she did not move, Death literally would be at her throat.
He approached swiftly, but the warrior, despite the pain of the impact that had jarred her insides, was already moving with equal speed. Instead of rising, she remained upon the earth, her white orbs riveted upon the bone white gaze of this enemy—in this way she revealed nothing of what she intended to do. When he was near enough, her leg shot out, catching him behind the knees as she braced herself with her hands upon the earth, her right still gripping the handle of the prone blade. Regardless of strength, this technique always worked—it was simply anatomy. Turning completely and rising, she brought the blade around to catch him at the neck, Obsidon responding as it easily cut that path in the air. Her other hand came about to grip the blade, using now the weight of that blade and the momentum she had gathered to cut into the neck and spill his blood upon the murky waters of the marsh.