[ As he talks, she hums to prompt him to keep talking. Her fingers coming up, catching the thick mess of her hair - something she refused to let them touch. They were not her ladies, after all, her ladies would tend her after her training, comb the knots out, soak it, then dry it with smoke. But before that, it had been her father, pulling it back when she began instruction much the same.
He had been her first teacher, and she could recall certain lessons by where he pulled on her head as he gathered it away from her face. Does it now, fond on the memory. Moropant Tambe was many thing she supposed, so many years from now, but he had taught his daughter well how to fight. In turn, she had passed his lessons on, to Damodar, to Devi.
She had never got to say goodbye to him. Never got to say thank you for the woman she had become.
But she could still part on his lessons. Begins where he had started, as she rakes her fingers through her hair to settle it neatly in absent thought. Thinks on her fingers, their scars and lines. You will get cut, by your enemies, by yourself, you must learn how to handle that first. Once its settled, she began to pull the gold free from it. It had no place in this, at the moment. Undoing a queen and redoing a soldier. Letting the chains slither and drop from her fingers. Again, Manu, again, swing again, you must always be prepared to strike once more. One, and two, and three, the settle onto the bed beside her. Decorations for another woman, from another time. Not for a prisoner, on a different planet, with a soldier from somewhere else completely.
Fear nothing in battle, only assess and react, and the rest will be decided. ]
Very good. [ an approving hum of his assessment, leaving it there before she continues on. ] You pierce, you drive in deep. Soft areas are your targets, muscles and organs. The spaces between armour. There in lays its versatility. It is light, you do not need to swing wide to kill, and it will do just as much damage, but in return, it requires finesse. This type of sword is not an idle man's weapon. [ There's a click of her tongue, she is disapproving of those that have the ability ( or rather, the money ) to learn, but can only use firearms. Lazy. ]
You are quick, so I saw. That's good. Gives us an easy base to start with. [ Once her hair is neatened, she begins to braid it into a loose rope to keep it out of her way. Gestures again briefly. ] Where do you most often strike with a knife?
no subject
He had been her first teacher, and she could recall certain lessons by where he pulled on her head as he gathered it away from her face. Does it now, fond on the memory. Moropant Tambe was many thing she supposed, so many years from now, but he had taught his daughter well how to fight. In turn, she had passed his lessons on, to Damodar, to Devi.
She had never got to say goodbye to him. Never got to say thank you for the woman she had become.
But she could still part on his lessons. Begins where he had started, as she rakes her fingers through her hair to settle it neatly in absent thought. Thinks on her fingers, their scars and lines. You will get cut, by your enemies, by yourself, you must learn how to handle that first. Once its settled, she began to pull the gold free from it. It had no place in this, at the moment. Undoing a queen and redoing a soldier. Letting the chains slither and drop from her fingers. Again, Manu, again, swing again, you must always be prepared to strike once more. One, and two, and three, the settle onto the bed beside her. Decorations for another woman, from another time. Not for a prisoner, on a different planet, with a soldier from somewhere else completely.
Fear nothing in battle, only assess and react, and the rest will be decided. ]
Very good. [ an approving hum of his assessment, leaving it there before she continues on. ] You pierce, you drive in deep. Soft areas are your targets, muscles and organs. The spaces between armour. There in lays its versatility. It is light, you do not need to swing wide to kill, and it will do just as much damage, but in return, it requires finesse. This type of sword is not an idle man's weapon. [ There's a click of her tongue, she is disapproving of those that have the ability ( or rather, the money ) to learn, but can only use firearms. Lazy. ]
You are quick, so I saw. That's good. Gives us an easy base to start with. [ Once her hair is neatened, she begins to braid it into a loose rope to keep it out of her way. Gestures again briefly. ] Where do you most often strike with a knife?