Sikarthis was not enjoying himself. He had expected (and hoped) that the knight he was facing would have learned from the mistake that allowed himself to be dismounted in the first place, reserving his strength and focusing more on using his skill as opposed to brute strength. Instead, his opponent had immediately launched into a flurry of wild swings and jabs, the full force of his strength backing up every wayward slash. It was all too simple a task for Sikarthis to bat them away with his longsword or step nimbly out of range. He had yet to even require the use of his shield, instead adopting a two handed grip on his longsword that was more than sufficient in dealing with the pathetic display of swordsmanship he had been pitted up against. Throughout their 'fight' Sikarthis couldn't help but notice his companions engaged in their own battles, suffering injuries and dealing death to opponents who, while by no means matched their skills, certainly tried a bit more than his own opponent. More importantly however was the couple of footsoldiers rushing to assist the knight Sikarthis was currently putting up with.

Without word or warning Sikarthis went on of the offensive, his longsword going from parrying and batting away swings to delivering blow after blow against the small shield his opponent had strapped to his left arm. Up and down again the blade rose, chipping away at the shaped lumber and driving the armored warrior backwards as he desperately attempted to regain both his balance and the upper hand. Neither happened. Tightening his grip on the pommel of his longsword, Sikarthis brought the sword down on the shield with all his might, sheering through shield, gauntlet, and bone all in one go. With a cry of immense pain and terror the knight fell backwards, his sabre forgotten as he attempted to stem the steady stream of blood flowing from the stump where his hand used to be. He cried out for mercy as he lay on the ground clutching his bloody half limb, sobbing and simpering like a craven. Sikarthis ignored him, turning instead to face the two footmen who were nearly upon him.

The first of the footmen arrived just as Sikarthis drew the shield from his back, swinging his one handed maul with the precision and skill more often attributed to veterans of several battles than an undertrained farmhand. Stepping out of range of the maul, Sikarthis swept his longsword down and across to put some space between them, raising his shield at the same time to intercept the spear thrust from the second footsoldier on his left. The Northman was pleased to find that his opponents were both fairly skilled and, more importantly, capable of working together well without verbal communication. For close to a minute the three of them fought, a blur of movement as Sikarthis parried, sidestepped and intercepted the various jabs, thrusts and swings from his two opponents, occasionally pushing back one or both of them with a series of cuts and feints. However when the spearman overstepped a lunging strike, inadvertently placing himself within range of Sikarthis' longsword, the Northman was ready. 

Disengaging fully and suddenly from the maul wielding footman Sikarthis stepped in close to the spearman, his shield lashing out and flattening the man's nose against his face with a sickening crunch. Stumbling forward and past Sikarthis, he had barely enough time to drop his spear and cover his shattered nose before the longsword buried itself in his spine. The cry of rage from behind him told Sikarthis all he needed to know about what his other opponent was doing, and by the time the other footman realized that his overhead strike wouldn't hit his target the Northman was already pivoting down on one knee, his longsword slicing through the air as easily and cleanly as the boiled leather and bone of the unfortunate soldier's legs. Sikarthis ended the man's suffering before he could so much as beg for mercy. He had deserved at least that much for his display of skill. 

Sword and shield dripping crimson, Sikarthis surveyed the battle continuing around him for a moment before stalking off towards where he had last seen the savage Alt and the younger Joachim.