10-12-2014, 05:21 PM
Kuzan was a military man. Surely he'd know an opening to make his move when he saw one, and he wouldn't get a clearer one than to have their three attackers turn dumbstruck to face Ornstein after he leapt clear out of the pit to brandish his mighty spear. The knight was left pondering the nature of one of the hooded man's mysterious weapons for a few moments - what was that, some kind of magical catalyst? - before the crook's attention was snatched away by Kuzan's own escape and summary counterattack. Ornstein watched within his helm with no small measure of awe as his companion flung a volley of spear-like icicles to bite the ground around the hooded man's feet. A warning, no doubt, for he surely couldn't have missed at this point-blank range if he had intended to strike true.
The knight kept his tense, ready stance, his spear perfectly still in its vigil to hold these three thugs firmly at bay. The muscle turned around, their grim faces brought upon Kuzan at the other side of the pit, and they circled towards him on both sides with their shortswords raised ready. That left Ornstein with the ringleader, and he was ready to make his move before the cloaked man affixed his attention once again and raised the odd weapon in his left hand.
BANG!
The explosion was as loud as it was totally sudden, and Ornstein reeled backwards beneath a hammer-like blow to his breastplate. His armour held, but a screaming pain spread through his chest like he’d just been battered off his feet by Smough’s enormous mallet. By the Sun, what was that?! Some foul new pyromancy?
Whatever it was, he couldn’t let it happen again or blows like that would lay him low. Before the next shot came, he snarled and rushed forward to close in on the hooded man. He raised his spear, still braced beneath his arm, and stepped into a violent thrust of the weapon – aimed past the man’s head. Instead, he levelled the crossguard beneath the point’s smooth ricasso at the man’s throat, looking to topple him winded into his own pit and take him out of the picture in order to open the way to aiding Kuzan.
The thief had other ideas. Emboldened by how his shot had struck painfully true, he nimbly ducked beneath the massive spear, letting it whistle overhead. He lashed out, apparently mostly in reflex, to smack the weapon aside with a sweep of his own sword. Ornstein relaxed his grip to roll with this parry, letting his spear be turned aside off to his right. Deftly did the knight move with it instead, stepping to the right to pull the weapon with him into a neat spin. The thief got to his feet – just in time to have the flat of the spear’s point crash into the side of his head. With a short, flat cry of shocked pain, he toppled off his feet and into the pit to fall atop Kuzan’s stricken, icy horse.
The knight kept his tense, ready stance, his spear perfectly still in its vigil to hold these three thugs firmly at bay. The muscle turned around, their grim faces brought upon Kuzan at the other side of the pit, and they circled towards him on both sides with their shortswords raised ready. That left Ornstein with the ringleader, and he was ready to make his move before the cloaked man affixed his attention once again and raised the odd weapon in his left hand.
BANG!
The explosion was as loud as it was totally sudden, and Ornstein reeled backwards beneath a hammer-like blow to his breastplate. His armour held, but a screaming pain spread through his chest like he’d just been battered off his feet by Smough’s enormous mallet. By the Sun, what was that?! Some foul new pyromancy?
Whatever it was, he couldn’t let it happen again or blows like that would lay him low. Before the next shot came, he snarled and rushed forward to close in on the hooded man. He raised his spear, still braced beneath his arm, and stepped into a violent thrust of the weapon – aimed past the man’s head. Instead, he levelled the crossguard beneath the point’s smooth ricasso at the man’s throat, looking to topple him winded into his own pit and take him out of the picture in order to open the way to aiding Kuzan.
The thief had other ideas. Emboldened by how his shot had struck painfully true, he nimbly ducked beneath the massive spear, letting it whistle overhead. He lashed out, apparently mostly in reflex, to smack the weapon aside with a sweep of his own sword. Ornstein relaxed his grip to roll with this parry, letting his spear be turned aside off to his right. Deftly did the knight move with it instead, stepping to the right to pull the weapon with him into a neat spin. The thief got to his feet – just in time to have the flat of the spear’s point crash into the side of his head. With a short, flat cry of shocked pain, he toppled off his feet and into the pit to fall atop Kuzan’s stricken, icy horse.