“Well Lady, it appears the Black Talons have graced us with their ugliest warriors.”

The Silver Shield's less than subtle jab at him only made the Orc smile: to him, the insult was no more than the fearful growl of a cornered wolf. On this day, he had already breached the capital's walls and marched through its streets, slaying no less than half a dozen of enemy soldiers on his way to the palace, so Gernev was certain that out of them two, he'd be the one to have the last laugh, tearing down the last line of Xoni's defense. It seemed like he'd be fighting against two - but Gernev did not waver. He had been fighting ever since he was a child, and had long accepted battle not as an occupation, but as his destined duty: whatever the the challenge may be, he simply had no choice other to conquer it or die. 

A watchful eye placed on both opponents, he waited for them to strike first, and when one of them did, he was ready. A quick twist of the forearm, and his mace collided with the halberd's shaft, knocking it sideways into the crook of his elbow, with it's tip passing by his side. Snaking his arm around, he pushed it up into his armpit and then turned his elbow outwards, applying counter-clockwise torque to the shaft and securing it with a firm friction lock. However, instead of stopping the thrust, Gernev fell backwards, piling his body's weight on top of its momentum and plunging it into the carriage's side, burying the weapon's spike in the wood. Even without both hands on the shaft, Karvos would now have a lot of trouble pulling it out, winning Gernev a bit of breathing space to deal with his other opponent.