Maea
If I could sing one last song
The main difference between their fighting styles was Liam's classical training - the efficient soldier versus the unpredictable street fighter. She had learned to expect a certain pattern from those who had been formally trained, and he was no exception. Fully expecting him to parry, Maea switched her grip on the shaft, let the impact of his sword carry her glaive up and aside, and used the butt of the pole to block his swipe at her side, deflecting the sword downward.
Taking a step back as he pressed forward, she knew it would be important to maintain distance. Her longer weapon made up for what she lacked in reach, but that only made them even; it only gave her a moment to twist the shaft between the palms and bring the curved edge of her blade down towards Liam's shoulder in a slash from above.
So far so good. They were being careful; no real weight put in yet, and the speed was moderate. Testing the mettle of her opponent. Testing herself, and enjoying the feeling of moving in synch with the dragoon. Like a dance.
Taking a step back as he pressed forward, she knew it would be important to maintain distance. Her longer weapon made up for what she lacked in reach, but that only made them even; it only gave her a moment to twist the shaft between the palms and bring the curved edge of her blade down towards Liam's shoulder in a slash from above.
So far so good. They were being careful; no real weight put in yet, and the speed was moderate. Testing the mettle of her opponent. Testing herself, and enjoying the feeling of moving in synch with the dragoon. Like a dance.
I'd make it a good one
