ISAR
Arm yourself
The dagger drew blood, but only a little. That was an improvement though, which pleased him to realize. This time he was able to dodge the kick, by ducking low under the sweeping leg.
Again the dagger flashed in the dim light. Isar aimed for the man's inner thigh as it passed over his head, savagely aiming for the vein. He'd never learned to fight for sport, only for survival, and that meant never pulling any punches. Not ever. If you messed up, you died - that was the iron rule of Whitebrim as he had learned it.
Again the dagger flashed in the dim light. Isar aimed for the man's inner thigh as it passed over his head, savagely aiming for the vein. He'd never learned to fight for sport, only for survival, and that meant never pulling any punches. Not ever. If you messed up, you died - that was the iron rule of Whitebrim as he had learned it.
Because no one else here will save you
