The female was getting tricky, as Razkar knew she eventually would. A few decent blows, a dash of invention and her confidence would grow. Like he had learned before, she was growing to understand that unpredictability and spontaneity in combat was truly deadly, when wielded correctly. That and deception.
Especially deception.
Her feint made him jerk, muscles betraying him, shoulders and legs telling the Kelvic more than mere words could. Then she feinted again, and he didn't-
-not a feint, as he realized too late.
Her broadsword swung around from behind her shield and by the time it smashed into his blocking gladius she was still moving forwards, shield forcing him on, a burst of speed charging it towards him-
-he struck it with his hand ax but it was like trying to slash at a charging bull.
Razkar was knocked back across the mat and nearly lost his footing. Now she pressed her advantage, shield held close, protecting her and denying him an opening. She held it straight, too, no more a springboard for him. Her broadsword thrust towards his stomach as he still wobbled, and he parried with his gladius, a horizontal sweep-
-and he allowed the momentum of that movement to spin his body to his right, feet sliding to his left-
-narrowing avoiding her slash to his legs.
Panting, now. Breathing harder, muscles starting to sting. Were she wearing armor, it would be her tiring now, hacking and slashing and thrusting and hammering taking its toll when you're wearing several dozen pounds of metal. But she was not, and adrenaline was driving her on...
And wits. Ah, such progress was being made.
She came on again, broadsword tight to the side of her shield-
Razkar realized how much the shield looked like a bullseye. A big, broad target
-and jerked his pelvis forward, lifted a leg and slammed the sole of his foot against the shield.
The shield was still at an angle to his foot slid slightly, but he did not put so much weight behind the kick that it would throw him off-balance. She got the worst of it, her own shield turned against her and slammed against her torso, driving her back, throwing her off-
-as the Myrian came in from her right, her sword side, hacking with his gladius at her ribs-
-broadsword swiped down to meet it, knock it away as she found her feet again-
-as his right arm cocked back to the left and gave a backhanded blow to the right of her shield, knocking it further to her left, opening her chest-
And she thrust her broadsword towards him again, only for the Myrian to twist to his left, broadsword sailing past his chest as he suddenly went from facing her to sideways, gladius arm straightening towards her as he did so-
-tip of the wooden blade stopping an inch from her neck.
A pause. In battle, he could have buried that in her throat. But his eyes flickered to the broadsword that was outstretched past his chest, and Razkar knew full well that all she'd have to do would be jerk that blade back towards her, and it would carve open his pectorals and whatever else was under them.
He jumped back, beads of sweat now covering him from head to toe. He shook his head, top knot flapping madly, dried skin and bone fragments clinking clacking as he did so. Once the moisture was off his face, he took a deep breath... and lowered his guard.
"More? Or perhaps different weapon?"
Continued here
Especially deception.
Her feint made him jerk, muscles betraying him, shoulders and legs telling the Kelvic more than mere words could. Then she feinted again, and he didn't-
-not a feint, as he realized too late.
Her broadsword swung around from behind her shield and by the time it smashed into his blocking gladius she was still moving forwards, shield forcing him on, a burst of speed charging it towards him-
-he struck it with his hand ax but it was like trying to slash at a charging bull.
Razkar was knocked back across the mat and nearly lost his footing. Now she pressed her advantage, shield held close, protecting her and denying him an opening. She held it straight, too, no more a springboard for him. Her broadsword thrust towards his stomach as he still wobbled, and he parried with his gladius, a horizontal sweep-
-and he allowed the momentum of that movement to spin his body to his right, feet sliding to his left-
-narrowing avoiding her slash to his legs.
Panting, now. Breathing harder, muscles starting to sting. Were she wearing armor, it would be her tiring now, hacking and slashing and thrusting and hammering taking its toll when you're wearing several dozen pounds of metal. But she was not, and adrenaline was driving her on...
And wits. Ah, such progress was being made.
She came on again, broadsword tight to the side of her shield-
Razkar realized how much the shield looked like a bullseye. A big, broad target
-and jerked his pelvis forward, lifted a leg and slammed the sole of his foot against the shield.
The shield was still at an angle to his foot slid slightly, but he did not put so much weight behind the kick that it would throw him off-balance. She got the worst of it, her own shield turned against her and slammed against her torso, driving her back, throwing her off-
-as the Myrian came in from her right, her sword side, hacking with his gladius at her ribs-
-broadsword swiped down to meet it, knock it away as she found her feet again-
-as his right arm cocked back to the left and gave a backhanded blow to the right of her shield, knocking it further to her left, opening her chest-
And she thrust her broadsword towards him again, only for the Myrian to twist to his left, broadsword sailing past his chest as he suddenly went from facing her to sideways, gladius arm straightening towards her as he did so-
-tip of the wooden blade stopping an inch from her neck.
A pause. In battle, he could have buried that in her throat. But his eyes flickered to the broadsword that was outstretched past his chest, and Razkar knew full well that all she'd have to do would be jerk that blade back towards her, and it would carve open his pectorals and whatever else was under them.
He jumped back, beads of sweat now covering him from head to toe. He shook his head, top knot flapping madly, dried skin and bone fragments clinking clacking as he did so. Once the moisture was off his face, he took a deep breath... and lowered his guard.
"More? Or perhaps different weapon?"
Continued here
