[color=ed1c24][b]Berserker[/b][/color]
12th Floor Hotel Room
Interacting with: [@Turboshitter] Albert Prelati, [@VanceXentan] Lancelot, Leon Winchester, Angry Dual Wielding King
[hr]
[color=ed1c24]"Touched a nerve, did I?"[/color] the paladin quipped, a wry grimace of mild revulsion growing on her face, [color=ed1c24]"I've seen your kind before. My blade destroyed their flawed beliefs, as it will yours."[/color] She twirled her sword, a clear challenge to the enemy Berserker. There was a clear statistical difference between them, yes. No doubt that this opponent was a wall of flesh and steel, but a hero facing such an obstacle was commonplace, [i]expected[/i] even. It was like saying birds flew or fish swam - a tautology. 

If she had to compare this enemy to anyone, it would be that Saracen giant Ferrau. Big, strong and quite literally invincible, but still felled by the thrust of her lance, empowered by guile and agility. Roland watched the berserker likewise, gauging the beast with well-trained eyes, waiting for the movement she was looking for. She didn't have to wait long.

Berserker tilted her body to the side, dodging the pot with ease. It was projected with his peak strength, which would have destroyed the pot on contact, so it was ample slow enough to avoid with the speed of a Servant, not even requiring peak exertion. Then the enemy charged, but this was exactly what she was looking for.

A small smile, followed by a dancing blade. And with a simple application of agile footwork, the future forced by the enemy's actions was rendered moot. If she could not defeat the enemy through force of arm, she would defeat him with superior skill.

As the blonde brute rushed forward, Berserker darted to the side and, with minimal movement, pivoted to strike at her opponent's rear flank. An expected movement by anyone with any sense, but what came next was most certainly unexpected. After all, instincts, even those of Servants refined so much that they lay within the realm of precognition, were fallible; they only took into account what the user was aware of, rather than serving as an almighty clairvoyance. 

The ground creaks underneath the king, and then shifts [i]down[/i]. 

Earlier Berserker had slashed through the floor, disguised as a simple flourish of her blade. But the structure had been damaged, and the forcefulness of the enemy Servant was quite unrestrained. And so the scales of balance had been tipped, literally and metaphorically. The floor shifts in the same direction as the enraged king's step, trapping him in a precariously vulnerable position. 

[color=ed1c24]"Dodge."[/color]

At the same time, behind him Berserker's blade dances, leveling rapid slashes across the exposed and unbalanced warrior's unguarded posterior torso - a far more reliable target, if less immediately fatal, than aiming for his head. A triplicate flurry of mortal strikes, fast, efficient and aimed for multiple decisive blows: an upward stroke along the centerline to destabilize him further and damage the spine, a diagonal downward stroke through the shoulder to disable the arm and sunder the shoulderblade, then a side step to better target his crippled flank with a slash capable of nearly bisecting his chest.