This was no time for anger, now that the battle was joined. There was no place for ego on the battlegrounds he'd trod, and arrogance killed as surely as any sword. Even if they were only using sticks the instincts of years spent fighting for his life didn't silence themselves on command. Nor would he have tried to - a stick could kill, though it took far more effort and accuracy than a sword. In the hands of a master, it was still a weapon worthy of respect. Ashetta was less skilled than Riz had been, more predictable, but the bard was hardly a match for either of them, for all his dancing gave him an edge in footwork.
Neither of their blows struck true, and Jigano felt a trickle of grim realization that he wouldn't last much longer, growing winded even as she continued to dance easily out of reach. Before he could recover she went on the attack, pressing him with a flurry of attacks. Off balance and out of breath he could only focus on parrying each strike as it came, with no chance to counter. He blocked the blow to his shoulder a bit wide and struggled to evade the jab at his throat. If he hadn't already been spinning she would have touched his hip, but he managed to dance back so that her final thrust hit only empty air--
But she was still moving, shifting into his unguarded quarter as she spoke of things he had no knowledge of, places he had heard only the broadest brush strokes about. The information would be interesting - later, when he had time to think. Now, though, there was only time to react, twisting with widened blue eyes as he realized he wouldn't make it in time.
The sting of the stick hitting his ribs could have been far worse - it could have been steel - but Jigano still didn't treat it lightly, nor did he stop moving just because he'd been struck. Instead he melted away from the attack, scowling as her foot grazed the outside of his knee, the off-center hit enough to bruise but not knock him down with his weight already off the leg in his retreat. "An assassin's freedom is bought and paid for with the stolen lives of others," he stated grimly, from several feet back, executing a wary half bow before dropping his stick. "First blood is yours, murderer. May you one day reap the consequences of the violence you seem to crave - though, clearly, I won't be the one to deliver them."
A clumsy disengagement, his silver tongue coated in ice still in shock at having met an assassin in this small, humble world that was already dying. "I think I have interrupted your run long enough however, and I have my own work to return to. Good day, madame." Not holding back his frown he strode away at an angle to her, unwilling to turn his back on her as he faded into the trees and made his way back to the Settlement to brood on the encounter, blood chilled by more than just the autumn winds.
Neither of their blows struck true, and Jigano felt a trickle of grim realization that he wouldn't last much longer, growing winded even as she continued to dance easily out of reach. Before he could recover she went on the attack, pressing him with a flurry of attacks. Off balance and out of breath he could only focus on parrying each strike as it came, with no chance to counter. He blocked the blow to his shoulder a bit wide and struggled to evade the jab at his throat. If he hadn't already been spinning she would have touched his hip, but he managed to dance back so that her final thrust hit only empty air--
But she was still moving, shifting into his unguarded quarter as she spoke of things he had no knowledge of, places he had heard only the broadest brush strokes about. The information would be interesting - later, when he had time to think. Now, though, there was only time to react, twisting with widened blue eyes as he realized he wouldn't make it in time.
The sting of the stick hitting his ribs could have been far worse - it could have been steel - but Jigano still didn't treat it lightly, nor did he stop moving just because he'd been struck. Instead he melted away from the attack, scowling as her foot grazed the outside of his knee, the off-center hit enough to bruise but not knock him down with his weight already off the leg in his retreat. "An assassin's freedom is bought and paid for with the stolen lives of others," he stated grimly, from several feet back, executing a wary half bow before dropping his stick. "First blood is yours, murderer. May you one day reap the consequences of the violence you seem to crave - though, clearly, I won't be the one to deliver them."
A clumsy disengagement, his silver tongue coated in ice still in shock at having met an assassin in this small, humble world that was already dying. "I think I have interrupted your run long enough however, and I have my own work to return to. Good day, madame." Not holding back his frown he strode away at an angle to her, unwilling to turn his back on her as he faded into the trees and made his way back to the Settlement to brood on the encounter, blood chilled by more than just the autumn winds.
