cooperone
Pollywog
Madness? This is SPAAARRTTAAAAA!!! *kick*
Posts: 96
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Post by cooperone on Apr 24, 2007 11:05:42 GMT -5
His back is turned to the fighting woman he faces, torso twisted, arms, blade and legs curled in taught spirals about his body. He slowly straightens his body out as he turns calmly towards her. A slight smile edges at the corner of his mouth; first blood is his. He crouches slightly, one leg in in front, stance just wider than his shoulders, sword held behind and above him, point passing his face and angled to the admittedly beautiful woman before him. He had learned many techniques of martial combat from a wise man in the far east, and this was one of them, integrated into his already considerable repertoire of western combat skills. He would wait, patiently, poised to strike, glad for the lightness of the durable alloy his plate was made from. The metallurgists and armourers of the far east were decades ahead of the crude iron and steel forgings from the west. He would wait, and he would not tire from his armour or sword. He would not lose so easily.
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Post by TSP on Apr 29, 2007 14:48:03 GMT -5
A flicker of panic coursed through her system, knowing full well that if she charged, she would cut herself up upon his sword - and really, where would that leave her? Instead she assessed the situation from afar, judging distance and the like, though really stalling for time while she thought of what to do. A thought struck, suddenly, like most thoughts do - and she acted, rushing forward recklessly towards the man, then dropping low in front of him in a crouch, her right leg bunched beneath her and her left leg streched out behind. With a grunt, she swept her left leg around quickly to the front, kicking sand, dust and bits of rock into her opponents' face and chest - with that, she shot forward to tackle his legs.
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cooperone
Pollywog
Madness? This is SPAAARRTTAAAAA!!! *kick*
Posts: 96
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Post by cooperone on Apr 30, 2007 11:17:29 GMT -5
Blinded momentarily by the trickery - albeit wise - of the fighting beauty before him, the warrior wrenches his body counterclockwise. His spiked knee digs deep into the woman's shoulder, piercing only flesh, and no bone. Off balance and his eyes only just beginning to clear, her tackle is effective in bringing him down. He lets go of his long blade and reaches for a short sword on his left hip with his right hand, while his left hand shoots across his body, glove-nailed gauntlet speeding towards the head of the ferocious woman entangling his legs. This move is half attack, half an attempt to get some armour plating over the weaker mesh armoured joints of his lower torso and upper legs.
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Post by TSP on May 1, 2007 12:14:35 GMT -5
Pain shoots in red hot spikes from her shoulder through her neuro-pathways to her brain, and she cleanches her jaw against flinching. She fails to see the gauntleted fist coming towards her head, and yet sees her opponents' right hand reaching for another weapon, so she reaches forward with her stronger arm, her right arm, to stop that from happening, letting the fist hit and glance off her forehead, leaving a deep gash. Blood is pouring from the wound in her left shoulder, making her skin slick and staining the cloth beneath her opponents' armour - and now with the wound on her head blinding her eyes with stars and blood, she can do nothing really except crawl up her opponents' body to reach his neck.
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