Nikolaos Soyata had gotten in training late. It was about noon, as he had slept in. His normally pony-tailed hair was flowing like a long mane of hair, the blue contrasting against his skin. He wasn't wearing his coat, but just his blue pants, chain included. He had his staff in one hand and shifted into his stance. He held the staff with two hands, although a light grip as to let him shift it up and down.
He started by striking the air in a flurry of attacks, which even a novice combatant would recognize as him striking each extremity once. This was a simple training excercise that he used to do standing on one leg and on a wood stock barely the size of his heel. Next, he sat his pole on the ground straight up and leaped, landing one foot on it and stood on it, balanced perfectly. On one foot. He was a physical master, with his body being sculpted to show it. He, however, was not focused on top of the staff, just enough to stay there, not enough to realize that this was an insanely unsafe activity.
He started by striking the air in a flurry of attacks, which even a novice combatant would recognize as him striking each extremity once. This was a simple training excercise that he used to do standing on one leg and on a wood stock barely the size of his heel. Next, he sat his pole on the ground straight up and leaped, landing one foot on it and stood on it, balanced perfectly. On one foot. He was a physical master, with his body being sculpted to show it. He, however, was not focused on top of the staff, just enough to stay there, not enough to realize that this was an insanely unsafe activity.
