Hard blue eyes watched the approach, a subtle shifting in footwork to follow the changing line was all that came in response from the Northman. His left side was covered from further encroachment by the rock just three feet over, so further action was unnecessary as he awaited her opening gambit. Sigurd was playing his cards close to his chest, revealing little as only one who had reached the age where experience and energy balanced could do so. His sword very slowly edged forward as his stance grew tenser, predicting what was to come. With an impressive, but manageable, speed the Spearwoman lunged forward. Indeed, her lance was oddly difficult to track as it exhibited qualities of heated metal in a forge, but Sigurd was watching her body not the point of the spear. Everything he needed to know was revealed to him by the position of her arm, shoulder and feet.

His curiosity was arisen immediately by the target for her attack. Seeing a shield, most spearmen would strike for the head or the legs. Had Sigurd’s shield been just ordinary wood, his foe may have just made a grievous error. However, it was anything but ordinary. Draped in the scaly magical hide of a dragon, it repelled the encroaching spear-head in short order, magic and all. The spear-head shot off a little way past his left side, barely effecting the Northman. He instinctively blocked off the line with his shield, preventing her quickly adjusting and cutting him as she retracted the weapon. He could have closed immediately, but even with the disadvantage of reach, only fools rush in.

What his foe could have read from his defence would be questionable. She had struck at the strongest point in Sigurd’s defence and so his reaction had been minor at best. Perhaps she planned to capitalise on the Northman’s inaction in some way? Sigurd was not perturbed, a fight such as this could be decided on a single mistake and he could already guess what it would be and when it would come.