The left arm of the squire was beginning to feel heavy. The shield hanging idly from its form. The tense grip on the composite bow was beginning to shake. The strain on his right arm also started to get noticeable. Holding a composite bow pulled back for this long was no easy feat. The men knew this, no doubt, and sooner or later their prey would have to pick a target and let loose. Or just lower the bow and let the men have their prize. His face grew tense and his teeth bit together as he ignored the strain on both arms. His focus was entirely upon the men. On the steel in their hands.
At least Raven can get aw- oh petch you woman - can't you follow a simple order? Markus eyes widened a bit when he saw her wonderful form move behind the men. A welcome sight, much more pleasing to the ideas than scowling men, but he would rather have seen her rear as she bolted out of there. What does she even think she ca- oh... wow. Markus saw her take down the man. Lying on his back and her foot came down on his wrist. The three men stood stunned for a moment neither of them really understood what was going on. A painful long tick or two their gaze turned to each other. Trying to comprehend the situation. Markus was the first to recover, his arms pointedly reminded him of the drawn composite shortbow in his hands. He lowered the bow and let go of the arrow. His target had been the man's thighs, but his aim was so shoddy it instead went right through his right foot and into the ground. He let out a piercing howl of pain. The adrenaline rush that Markus felt then sickened him. He threw the bow at the other man, but it just harmlessly bounced off of his raised arm.
'My foot! MY FOOT YOU PIECE OF SHYKE!'
But he had not the time to suppress his foul notions. For the third man had snapped out of the daze and was attacking. Markus raised the shield and felt his arm give way to the powerful blow, but his balance remained solid and his shoulder withstood the blow. He hated axes with a passion. Such an uncivilized weapon. Markus stepped forward, right foot raised into the air and he push kicked the man in his thigh. Deadening the muscle there and he took a step back. Markus was a piss poor unarmed fighter, so that he had even managed to kick the man was a success in its own right. His free hand moved down to grip his blade. But the howling man on his left swung at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blade come swinging in at him. At the last moment, Markus got the shield in the way. His right leg was still being put down, so when the blade connected, Markus had no balance at all. He stumbled away from the pinned man. His howl had turned into a curious mix of swears and murmurs of pain. This was the first time in a long time Markus had heard so many referenced to petching and his own mother in a single fluid rambling sentence. Markus' right foot touched the ground badly and he felt a stab of pain through the ankle. He grimaced in pain.
The man with the axe came in again, seizing the opportunity. Axe came in, Markus went low as put the shield at an angle. Deflected the axe over his head and off to the side. The tension in his coiled up legs was unleashed as he flung himself at the man. The ankle exploded in pain as he did so, but he kept his focus on the prize. Right fist leading, taking him across the jaw with a very poor punch. But Markus had size and strength, any punch was sting on the defender. The left follow up came in the form of a shield slamming into his upper right arm. He shrieked in pain as the hand unwilling let go of the axe and it skipped across the forest floor before landing with a thud. His arm hung a little limp. Markus' right hand gripped him by his left collar and pulled him closer. The thugs eyeballs showed the white when he felt Markus right knee rise directly into his groin. Markus let go of his collar as the man's arms went for his private parts and sunk down on his knees. Markus winced when his right foot touched the ground again. Markus moved, slowly, around the man, wrapped his right arm around the man's throat and as he struggled he threw several weak ineffectual punches at Markus. The man's right arm was broken, obviously the way it hung limp. Markus felt the man grow weak in his arms.
But his eyes had never wavered from the third man. He had been pinned to the forest floor, but now he lay on the ground. Apparently his little attempt at swinging at Markus had snapped the arrow in half. Markus grinned at his misfortune and his idiocy. At his own sprained ankle. Or just misplaced step, would probably swell and get useless soon.
Despite the severity of the situation, he realized then... He would have to rely on Raven to help him home. ... petch me. Markus let go of the man and his body fell limp to the ground. Unconscious, he could see the man resume his breathing. But Markus had not the time to deal with him as he drew his blade and pointed it at the man on the ground. Swatted aside the longsword raised at him as he moved closer, limping all the way. Then he remembered Raven again, he looked to her, to see how she faired in her fight against the man. Markus sword pointed at the man on the ground - keeping him pinned.
At least Raven can get aw- oh petch you woman - can't you follow a simple order? Markus eyes widened a bit when he saw her wonderful form move behind the men. A welcome sight, much more pleasing to the ideas than scowling men, but he would rather have seen her rear as she bolted out of there. What does she even think she ca- oh... wow. Markus saw her take down the man. Lying on his back and her foot came down on his wrist. The three men stood stunned for a moment neither of them really understood what was going on. A painful long tick or two their gaze turned to each other. Trying to comprehend the situation. Markus was the first to recover, his arms pointedly reminded him of the drawn composite shortbow in his hands. He lowered the bow and let go of the arrow. His target had been the man's thighs, but his aim was so shoddy it instead went right through his right foot and into the ground. He let out a piercing howl of pain. The adrenaline rush that Markus felt then sickened him. He threw the bow at the other man, but it just harmlessly bounced off of his raised arm.
'My foot! MY FOOT YOU PIECE OF SHYKE!'
But he had not the time to suppress his foul notions. For the third man had snapped out of the daze and was attacking. Markus raised the shield and felt his arm give way to the powerful blow, but his balance remained solid and his shoulder withstood the blow. He hated axes with a passion. Such an uncivilized weapon. Markus stepped forward, right foot raised into the air and he push kicked the man in his thigh. Deadening the muscle there and he took a step back. Markus was a piss poor unarmed fighter, so that he had even managed to kick the man was a success in its own right. His free hand moved down to grip his blade. But the howling man on his left swung at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blade come swinging in at him. At the last moment, Markus got the shield in the way. His right leg was still being put down, so when the blade connected, Markus had no balance at all. He stumbled away from the pinned man. His howl had turned into a curious mix of swears and murmurs of pain. This was the first time in a long time Markus had heard so many referenced to petching and his own mother in a single fluid rambling sentence. Markus' right foot touched the ground badly and he felt a stab of pain through the ankle. He grimaced in pain.
The man with the axe came in again, seizing the opportunity. Axe came in, Markus went low as put the shield at an angle. Deflected the axe over his head and off to the side. The tension in his coiled up legs was unleashed as he flung himself at the man. The ankle exploded in pain as he did so, but he kept his focus on the prize. Right fist leading, taking him across the jaw with a very poor punch. But Markus had size and strength, any punch was sting on the defender. The left follow up came in the form of a shield slamming into his upper right arm. He shrieked in pain as the hand unwilling let go of the axe and it skipped across the forest floor before landing with a thud. His arm hung a little limp. Markus' right hand gripped him by his left collar and pulled him closer. The thugs eyeballs showed the white when he felt Markus right knee rise directly into his groin. Markus let go of his collar as the man's arms went for his private parts and sunk down on his knees. Markus winced when his right foot touched the ground again. Markus moved, slowly, around the man, wrapped his right arm around the man's throat and as he struggled he threw several weak ineffectual punches at Markus. The man's right arm was broken, obviously the way it hung limp. Markus felt the man grow weak in his arms.
But his eyes had never wavered from the third man. He had been pinned to the forest floor, but now he lay on the ground. Apparently his little attempt at swinging at Markus had snapped the arrow in half. Markus grinned at his misfortune and his idiocy. At his own sprained ankle. Or just misplaced step, would probably swell and get useless soon.
Despite the severity of the situation, he realized then... He would have to rely on Raven to help him home. ... petch me. Markus let go of the man and his body fell limp to the ground. Unconscious, he could see the man resume his breathing. But Markus had not the time to deal with him as he drew his blade and pointed it at the man on the ground. Swatted aside the longsword raised at him as he moved closer, limping all the way. Then he remembered Raven again, he looked to her, to see how she faired in her fight against the man. Markus sword pointed at the man on the ground - keeping him pinned.