Yoda My Stick Novels & Stories

Picking up a stick on the floor, I gathered my hair together and tied it together to keep it out of my face. I waited for the right opening, waiting for one of them to lower their garred. Just one and the rest will follow. Listening carefully , watching them, one turned his attention away from me and there was my opening. Breaking out in a sprint towards the one who looked away they called out to him reaching for their guns but I was already in front of him hitting him with the yoko tobigeri (Side flying kick). That will keep him busy, with the force I approached him he should be down for a while in pain clutching his stomach.

Miren's tone became icier as she responded: "I also said that I don't want to go with you guys; either you don't understand what I just said or you deliberately don't want to hear what I just said." Marik let out a loud snort, and then he reached into his bag and pulled out a dagger. He then pressed a button on the cane's stem, which caused the cane to transform from a short stick into a long stick with a blade at the top of it. The stick is made of extremely lightweight iron, but it has an excellent level of hardness; as a result, an average person who is struck by this stick will almost certainly suffer serious injuries. When the owner of the stick attacks and stabs their opponent, the per

Xyla Quest subconsciously glanced at the surveillance screen first. Indeed, it was Ron Batton who stood outside the door. He was wearing a set of white martial arts outfits with a walking stick in his hand. The handle part of the walking stick was made of a huge, white jade ball. It seemed low-profile but yet had a tinge of luxury to it. Xyla quickly opened the door and passed Ron a pair of slippers. “Grandpa, these slippers are for you.”

"My stick! Where's my stick?! Someone stole it! No, someone stole it!" Dinar started to panic and fumbled around the table then Yusa immediately grabbed Dinar's hand which was almost touching the hot bowl of Shitake mushroom soup. "I have secured the stick, Dinar, when you are with me, don't rely on the stick because I will be your second eye." Dinar was silent then Yusa closed his fingers around Dinar's hand but Dinar pulled her hand quickly, wanting to let go of the grip but Yusa continued to interlock his fingers.

I was stunned, “What are you doing?” “I’ve got this,” he said. “You can’t be serious!” I hissed, “these aren’t your average thugs—they’re real wolves, you can’t fight them with what I taught you!” “I’ve handled worse,” he said calmly, reaching down and grabbing a thick stick off the ground. “Handled worse? With a stick?!” He didn’t answer, instead, he twirled the stick in his hands with unsettling precision, eyes locked on the rogues as he stepped forward.

They then launched another duo skill, planning to finish him off but failed as he managed to dodge in the nick of time. Damn! Its almost as if they knew where I was going to strike! Even being able to block off my attacks with that stick! Wait... am I seeing this right? The stick is glowing... and it seems quite bashed up. Maybe... Xander inhaled a sharp breath as he steadied himself. He calmed himself and readied a fearsome stance. The duo grinned maliciously yet had an inviting atmosphere about them, almost as if they were taunting him with their euphoric expression.

"Every time you walk, you'll feel me." I blushed, but I knew I was gonna enjoy it all. “This is the riding crop,” he said, pointing to a short, leather crop with a stingy-looking tip hanging on a hook. Jordan tapped it against his palm, the thwack echoing in the quiet room. “Don't worry,” he said, you're gonna enjoy every bit of my torture here.” My breath hitched in anticipation. But Jordan wasn't done. He pointed to the night stand. “This is called the high-intensity wand.”

His face was a mask of displeasure and indignation,a look that is incongruous on his bear face,and I burst out laughing,the spate of temper all but dissipating. "Is there anything to drink around here?" He looks at me for a second before he uses his stick-wait,where does it keep disappearing to and reappearing from?-to stroke his chest diagonally.An old looking,well worn leather strap appeared in the wake of his stick and attached to the ends was a gorgeous, intricately carved,round wooden flask."Is that stick like,a magic wand or something?" I ask as he hands it to me."It is merely the conduit to my energy." He stands and watches me in befuddlement as I drink like I'd been in the dessert fo

"Maybe this time you still suck. But your natural talent in controlling Esze can't be underestimated. One day you could be the strongest, even surpass Elder Elvians. Therefore many people would aim at your strength. Many countries want you to stand on their side. There may also be people who intend to kill you and think of you as a threat. Therefore, Kid! Don't let your secret is known by many people." I swallowed my saliva. Then gave a small nod. Trying to lift a hand with hesitation. "What was it Esze?" The woman patted her forehead. Without further ado, she pulled something out of her boots. It was a three-foot wooden stick, then pointed it at me. I tilted my head. What would she do with

I reached up and stroked his hand affectionately. “It’s okay I want to do this”. I patted his hand before I cleared my throat and repositioned myself on the pillow. I looked to Artemis to continue and he nodded. Reaching behind him he pulled out a wooden stick, about fifty centimetres long and an inch thick, and placed it on the ground. “With gravity power, you can make heavy or you can make lite, with this I want you to make too heavy for he to lift” Artemis pointed at the stick and then at Smith and I nodded slowly.