You circle around him for another brief moment counting steps.
'One, two, one, three, two, one, one', you count in your mind, examining his footwork. His form seems almost
too good, but you aren't too shabby at fencing yourself.You both slowly close the gap between you until you are at striking distance. Suddenly, your sword sings through the air, making an arc towards his. Metal clashed against metal, and you skillfully ricochet yours off of his, towards his side. He parries again and swings his forward. You both exchange blows, the only sound the cries of the ongoing battle and the deadly hissing of swords colliding.
After several tense, adrenaline-fueled moments, both of you back off to circle one another once more. You can't see his eyes through his helmet, but you can see his cruel, streamlined mouth that was forming... a grin? Surely he must have been tired by the exchange, at least a little bit: you hit his armor several times before, and your sword should have at least left him somewhat shaken if not disoriented!
You pant with exhaustion: your sweat drips into your eyes annoyingly, and you begin to wish for some more free air. Surely he would have the chivalry to let you breathe a moment?
...but why should he give you the courtesy that he denied so many others?...
Home 
Browse 
About 
Help 
Register