The setting sun could barely be seen peeking out from behind the mountain range on the horizon. Maryanne was nearly brushing against the rickety shed as she continued her work. She was in a deep hunch, her long raven hair held in a messy ponytail that dangled just beside her right arm. She squinted as she held the comparatively miniscule sword in her left hand. To the young forty-foot woman, the broadsword looked more like a metal toothpick than anything possible of bodily harm. Pinching a worn