Watching the elderly man as he stepped gingerly forward on legs, it seems, he put little trust in, shaking as if they could unexpectedly buckle at any moment. On his face, not weathered but still showing its age, was a look of concentration as he gazed before him at his goal. A moment later he stumbled forward and with all his might swung his arm, the weight he lifted in his hand was released at his aim; it was easy to see his aim was still true. He faltered and nearly fell over as his precarious balance was momentarily lost, but alas, he caught himself. All the while his eyes followed the path of his weapon, of sorts, as it glided on to the target. It proved excellent, smashing in to it with a resounding thud and bringing a brief smile to the old man's face and congratulations from his eager comrades. STRIKE!