After limbering up, Laurin wrapped a bit of leather around the end she would use as a grip. She may have looked silly, twirling it about as if it were a claymore, but she understood the transfer of motion from one end to the other. It would have to do. Maintaining weapons was one thing, she had little weapons training and now that was all she had to rely on until the shit hit the fan. Plunging it into the ground, Laurin brought out her crossbow and began inspecting the quality of the string, the bore sanded into the body and the shafts of her bolts with a critical eye.