02-14-2017, 11:26 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-14-2017, 11:34 PM by homin-Ratione.
Edit Reason: Nevermind, it was good
)
“Baideci sua!” Ratione cussed in his own tongue, eyes squinting and brow furrowing. Shifting his right hand the secondary grip, left on the pommel, he forced the tip of the greatsword in a tight conical arc repeatedly while stepping backwards. Tearen’s halberd was pulled along with the blade, spike scraping against the floor as he moved with the motion, keeping the shaft of his own weapon against the Novan’s. The two moved in sync for the smallest moment, mirroring each other’s steps and swings, before both stepped off to put in some distance.
There was no hesitation as they moved in again. Ratione first swung up his blade before smoothly redirecting the inertia downward, taking a long step forward. Tearen hooked his front-most leg around his opponents, snatching the greatsword’s tip with his spike to pull it down and further forward, out to his own side. The spiked pommel followed through, forcing the Furtumin to release his right hand grab for the halberd’s shaft.
The legendary prime’s back leg swung forward in a chest-level kick, smacking into Ratione’s padding. Despite the immediate protection, the old man could still feel the energy going into his ribs. Almost at the same time, the soldier’s own leg flew forward, aided by his large stride, driving a shin-guard into Tearen’s groin. While this elicited a sharp cry, it still lacked the impact Ratione had planned for.
Both opponents now chest-to-chest, locked together, their weapons clattered on the ground to resort to significantly more physical means of killing each other. The Novan’s superior leg strength won out in the first move, right arm hooking between Nealaph’s thighs, the other around his glassy buttocks. Seasoned and toned thigh muscles heaved Ratione’s enemy up into the air, then back down into the concrete. The thing gave a sharp cough, followed by a loud bark as its opponent’s knee was driven into again its crotch, right leg pinned.
The Furtumin wasted no time in getting at least one fist to connected with Tearen’s jaw, head whipping to the side right before both its arms came up to redirect his next punch. Ratione fell into his own weight, the legendary prime wrapping its arms completely around him and turning both their bodies over.
The Furtumin wasted no time in getting at least one fist to connected with Tearen’s jaw, head whipping to the side right before both its arms came up to redirect his next punch. Ratione fell into his own weight, the legendary prime wrapping his arms completely around him and turning both their bodies over.
Now crouched over the bruised, battered, beaten, and overheated ancient soldier, Tearen summoned his halberd over. The polearm flew easily into his open fingers, all ten gripping the shaft as it was raised above the Novan’s skull.
The veteran’s timing was impeccable as blade was slapped the blade to side just when the spike scraped the bridge of his nose, burying deep into the grey floor, cracks spider-webbing out. To keep the weapon pinned, Ratione grabbed the shaft with his right hand, shoving his left elbow into Tearen’s arms to keep them to the side. The old man bent his knees, getting his feet underneath him, hefting all of his opponent’s mass into a counter-roll.
There was no hesitation as they moved in again. Ratione first swung up his blade before smoothly redirecting the inertia downward, taking a long step forward. Tearen hooked his front-most leg around his opponents, snatching the greatsword’s tip with his spike to pull it down and further forward, out to his own side. The spiked pommel followed through, forcing the Furtumin to release his right hand grab for the halberd’s shaft.
The legendary prime’s back leg swung forward in a chest-level kick, smacking into Ratione’s padding. Despite the immediate protection, the old man could still feel the energy going into his ribs. Almost at the same time, the soldier’s own leg flew forward, aided by his large stride, driving a shin-guard into Tearen’s groin. While this elicited a sharp cry, it still lacked the impact Ratione had planned for.
Both opponents now chest-to-chest, locked together, their weapons clattered on the ground to resort to significantly more physical means of killing each other. The Novan’s superior leg strength won out in the first move, right arm hooking between Nealaph’s thighs, the other around his glassy buttocks. Seasoned and toned thigh muscles heaved Ratione’s enemy up into the air, then back down into the concrete. The thing gave a sharp cough, followed by a loud bark as its opponent’s knee was driven into again its crotch, right leg pinned.
The Furtumin wasted no time in getting at least one fist to connected with Tearen’s jaw, head whipping to the side right before both its arms came up to redirect his next punch. Ratione fell into his own weight, the legendary prime wrapping its arms completely around him and turning both their bodies over.
The Furtumin wasted no time in getting at least one fist to connected with Tearen’s jaw, head whipping to the side right before both its arms came up to redirect his next punch. Ratione fell into his own weight, the legendary prime wrapping his arms completely around him and turning both their bodies over.
Now crouched over the bruised, battered, beaten, and overheated ancient soldier, Tearen summoned his halberd over. The polearm flew easily into his open fingers, all ten gripping the shaft as it was raised above the Novan’s skull.
The veteran’s timing was impeccable as blade was slapped the blade to side just when the spike scraped the bridge of his nose, burying deep into the grey floor, cracks spider-webbing out. To keep the weapon pinned, Ratione grabbed the shaft with his right hand, shoving his left elbow into Tearen’s arms to keep them to the side. The old man bent his knees, getting his feet underneath him, hefting all of his opponent’s mass into a counter-roll.
"Our fear is our weapon."