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7/24/2025, 9:59:23 PM
>>6279845
What follows is a melee in your favor as the Stranger is forced to give ground while repeatedly parrying blows with half a weapon not suited to such a purpose. Through his movements, you see a passing familiarity with this style of combat as his form resembles one who is used to knife play. So, after one last failed block, you do the only sensible thing you can do. You unsheath a dagger from your thigh and toss it to the man.
He catches it without comment, twirls it through his fingers, and tosses aside his ruined gun, then attacks. No words are exchanged, no gasps of surprise or comments on your intentions. Perhaps he just sees the manic smile on your face. It’s not that you can help it, even surrounded by blood and death, your heart still beats at a million miles a minute from the exhilaration of combat. You’re having fun. You want to have more.
Parry, guard, chamber, strike. The two of you dance a lethal waltz through mud and blood. Sometimes your longer sword slashes through the man's armor and flesh while you’re nicked at others. For a seemingly endless moment, nothing exists except you and your opponent. Unlike a simple spar, both of you are trying your hardest to kill the other. Every mistake you make is punished, every success is rewarded. Not with gold or prestige as is normal in your courtly life, but with the sound of metal cutting through flesh, gasps of pain, and just a little bit more adrenaline. You are alive!
The status quo of the duel is only stopped when the Stranger leaps back from you and twirls the dagger through his fingers once more before throwing it in your direction. You say that because it wasn’t at you, not truly, seeing as how bad the Stranger misses, instead hitting the wooden carriage behind you. You raise an eyebrow at this tactic before the dagger explodes, showing the area in a hundred thousand splinters. Besides the newfound pain, your mind processes something. The fact that he just gave you a clue as to his Cheat Skill. It’s not the equipment he possesses; his Skill must be linked to his explosions!
As the dust settles, you don’t see the remains of Lord and Lady Bloodgrave, but instead see them in the process of limping a distance away from the carriage. The Stranger must have seen them from the broken window before he attacked. They’re not too hurt, but they seem to have frozen, stunned by the events around them. But you don’t have the time to think of them further as pistol-fire whirls past you, a bullet even taking a small chunk from your left arm. Dammit, if only you had enough mana to spend on the luxury of controlling your pain receptors instead of only the basics needed to keep you standing. Dammit, you’ve had your fun, but you need to end this fast if you are to survive this.
>It’s do or die. Charge the Stranger with Sturmfahrein held high!
>No matter how hurt you are, the Stranger has it worse! Retreat to cover and use the last magic you saved to deal with him.
>[write-in]
What follows is a melee in your favor as the Stranger is forced to give ground while repeatedly parrying blows with half a weapon not suited to such a purpose. Through his movements, you see a passing familiarity with this style of combat as his form resembles one who is used to knife play. So, after one last failed block, you do the only sensible thing you can do. You unsheath a dagger from your thigh and toss it to the man.
He catches it without comment, twirls it through his fingers, and tosses aside his ruined gun, then attacks. No words are exchanged, no gasps of surprise or comments on your intentions. Perhaps he just sees the manic smile on your face. It’s not that you can help it, even surrounded by blood and death, your heart still beats at a million miles a minute from the exhilaration of combat. You’re having fun. You want to have more.
Parry, guard, chamber, strike. The two of you dance a lethal waltz through mud and blood. Sometimes your longer sword slashes through the man's armor and flesh while you’re nicked at others. For a seemingly endless moment, nothing exists except you and your opponent. Unlike a simple spar, both of you are trying your hardest to kill the other. Every mistake you make is punished, every success is rewarded. Not with gold or prestige as is normal in your courtly life, but with the sound of metal cutting through flesh, gasps of pain, and just a little bit more adrenaline. You are alive!
The status quo of the duel is only stopped when the Stranger leaps back from you and twirls the dagger through his fingers once more before throwing it in your direction. You say that because it wasn’t at you, not truly, seeing as how bad the Stranger misses, instead hitting the wooden carriage behind you. You raise an eyebrow at this tactic before the dagger explodes, showing the area in a hundred thousand splinters. Besides the newfound pain, your mind processes something. The fact that he just gave you a clue as to his Cheat Skill. It’s not the equipment he possesses; his Skill must be linked to his explosions!
As the dust settles, you don’t see the remains of Lord and Lady Bloodgrave, but instead see them in the process of limping a distance away from the carriage. The Stranger must have seen them from the broken window before he attacked. They’re not too hurt, but they seem to have frozen, stunned by the events around them. But you don’t have the time to think of them further as pistol-fire whirls past you, a bullet even taking a small chunk from your left arm. Dammit, if only you had enough mana to spend on the luxury of controlling your pain receptors instead of only the basics needed to keep you standing. Dammit, you’ve had your fun, but you need to end this fast if you are to survive this.
>It’s do or die. Charge the Stranger with Sturmfahrein held high!
>No matter how hurt you are, the Stranger has it worse! Retreat to cover and use the last magic you saved to deal with him.
>[write-in]
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