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Old 11-26-2006, 01:50 PM   #282
Nogrod
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Hadith

Hadith ran towards the slaver shouting a war cry from the bottom of his lungs. It seemed not to impress the slaver as he still grinned and just waited for him to charge. In the end Hadith just slowed down and stopped. The slaver had won the first heat by depriving him of the advantage of the momentum. Hadith was beaten before he got into the action. The slaver looked confident, standing comfortably and having his blade ready to strike. They took a couple of side steps both of them, trying to look at the possible weaknesses behind the defence of one another.

Suddenly the slaver made his first move. The hit came in just as Hadith had borrowed a second to see how Athwen was faring. At the same time they all heard the cry from a few yards away from them "I'm here. I'm coming!"

The hit forced Hadith to take a few steps back. He had time enough to put his blade between him and the swing but was too late to have any strength of his body behind it. As soon as he had balanced himself the second hit came on him. Now it was fiercer than the one before. Hadith still managed to hold his blade in front of the new one, but this time he fell down with the force of the hit.

Hadith was waiting for his death as he had tumbled down on his back. So this is it, this is the way I will die... as he noted the slaver to hesitate for a moment. He was attending to the cry they both had heard just a moment ago. That gave Hadith the precious chance to rise up and to come back to defend himself. He was badly bruised even though he had managed to parry both of the hits the slaver had swinged on him. His back was aching and his feet felt like jelly again. Still he bravely challenged the slaver again.

"Come on! I'm not dead yet and others will finish what I can't!" Hadith called his opponent. The slaver looked unsure for a second but then came towards Hadith with a kill in mind. It was no longer a cat toying with a mouse but a hungry wolf on his pray, ready already to take on the real challenger just behind his shoulder after finishing this easy kill. The slaver was after Hadith's life now, seriously.

Hadith fell into an elementary trick. The slaver seemed to invest all his powers to a strike from up-right to down-left and Hadith tried to counter it with all he could spare, bringing his whole body to take on the impact. But just before the hit the slaver suddenly swerwed his sword from under Hadith's blade and ducked his blade under Hadith's. Hadith was going forwards with full effort, his side open, as the slaver got somewhat back to his balance, from which he in fact had not been far away at any moment unlike Hadith he had tricked into jumping forwards. The slaver hewed his sword backhanded on Hadith's defenceless side, aiming for his throat.

The hit missed Hadith's neck by inches landing on his shoulder. Hadith could feel the bones splintering under the sword. Blood bursted to his face. He felt dizzy and his vision started to darken. He felt the ground as his knees hit it and then his face slammed to the dry sand.

Hadith turned his head to see what happened. The slaver was about to give him the finishing hit when he suddenly turned around. Hadith heard it too. A horse was charging straight towards the slaver! Hadith tried to lift his head to see what was happening but his vision was blurring. He felt the ground trembling from the pounding of the heavy hooves.


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Folwren's Post

Athwen knew at once that the advantage in this fight would be completely on the slaver's side. He was man, fully built and probably fully trained in fighting. Hadith would go down quickly with no hope of ever getting back up again. She had not a moment to loose in figuring out something to help him with, at least until Dorran reached them. But how? How was she supposed to stop a man twice her size from killing another? She looked around her, hoping to find something that she might use as a weapon.

Her eyes lit upon the slaver's horse. A plan instantly leaped into her mind. She ran forward to him and grasped his rein as he shied away from her. She spoke calming words to him, whispering reassuringly in his ear as she gathered his reins above his neck. As soon as he stood tolerably still she thrust her foot into the stirrup and launched herself upward into the saddle. Once there, her feet could not reach the stirrups, but that did not worry her. She clenched her knees tight against the hard leather of the saddle, turned his head about with one rein and urged him on with her heels in his side.

As the horse made the turn, Athwen could see the two combatants. Hadith was stumbling, his sword arm was far out in attempt to regain the balance he had lost. The slaver stepped forward and his arm swung upwards. Athwen bit back a cry and drove her heels into the horse just as the man's curved blade came slicing down.

The rushing, pounding hooves of the horse seemed to drive the emotion from Athwen's mind. She saw Hadith fall. She watched as he first collapsed to his knees and then fell onto his face in the ground before his enemy. Though the thought that he had been killed before her very eyes flashed through her mind, Athwen did not think to be sorry for him, she did not think of anything, except bearing down on this slaver.

The man looked up, hearing her approach. An expression of surprise filled his face and he stumbled back out of the horse's path. Athwen passed him, but her hand was already on the tight rein and in a moment, she and her horse were turned about again and charged once more upon the slaver.

Last edited by Nogrod; 11-27-2006 at 07:09 AM.
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