Ashes of Empires

Strike, Parry, Counterstrike

Strike, Parry, Counterstrike

A Thrust drew blood across his shoulder, he replied with a sortie of his own, but he missed by a hair breath. Again and again, it went on, sweat pooled in the armor, exhaustion welted off of him. An hour, maybe two had passed.

Strike, parry, Counterstrike

Tolon thrust his blade toward the man's face but diverted it at the last moment and bit into his mount's flesh. The Horse went down with a scream; its young rider quickly dismounted to not get stuck beneath it. 

His opponent who did not hesitate to repay dirty blow with dirty blow, dove beneath Tolon's reach, and dug his spear point into the stallion's heart. It was a quick and painless death; it deserved that much. 

Strike, Parry, Counterstrike 

Tolon pushed him back with multiple stabs, pushing back the other Khan. His armor was more utilitarian than Tolon's; it lacked any decoration or displays of wealth. The overlapping plates of iron glimmered in the sunlight as Chagadai moved with the grace of an elf. One, two, three strikes of a spear in the span of a second put Tolon on the defense. He counterattacked with a heavy swing of his glaive that sheared Chagadai's spear in two. 

A cut to his shoulder nearly cost him his life as he took too long to unsheathe his saber. Blood poured from the new wound, coating his hands in a thick oily layer. He switched to his other hand and crouched low. His saber flashed like his armor and met Tolon's blade in a series of attacks.

Tolon with the reach of his glaive, kept Chagadai from getting close; The onslaught of attacks from the energetic Chagadai forced them away from the corpses of their horses. Energetic Chagadai set him on the defensive, drove him from the Field, drove him into trees, swinging and clanging their blades across the bases of trees, over bushes and rocks. More than once, Tolon almost lost his momentum or balance, he received a cut above his eye. When that was he could not remember, the fight must have been going to for an hour, perhaps hours, time ceased to matter when fighting.

"Not bad, for a greenhorn," he laughed breathlessly. 

To his amusement, Chagadai remained silent, at peace as his blade danced and danced and danced.

He lunged behind a tree, unsheathing his saber to better fight amongst the confines of the forest he grew closer to Chagadai. For his efforts, he caught a cut to the thigh but matched it in turn with a slash to the hip. 

Gods, he can fight!

Tolon was slowing down, losing breath. He was not as spry as the young man, nor as fast, nor as skilled with a saber. The Glaive was his weapon, not the sword. His saber grew heavier and heavier with every swing.

He swung overhead, seeking to end the fight quickly, Chagadai, in a quick burst of energy dropped his blade and tackled Tolon to the ground. 

Bones crunched as the pair pummeled each other, rolling and struggling to get on top of each other.

Chagadai won. A series of punches dazed Tolon. The satisfying sound of steel leaving leather woke him back up in time to catch the dagger aimed at his throat, instead, it caught his palm and forced itself out the other side of his hand. Using all his strength he forced it away, Chagadai had more strength

Wait. God's wait. I'm not ready.