Vanarus had of course calculated his opponent’s reach and stepped just within range of it, mimicking the wiggling maggot pierced upon the hook while he was in fact the hungry fisherman. It was just enough to provoke an attack, albeit a probing one, without endangering the Vampire, who could easily skip away from any strike his burly foe deemed it wise to launch from such distance. However, he was all too content to observe him, his casual stance further hiding his own skills while he took in the heavy-handed approach of his bigger opponent.

Neatly, as one may expect from a vampiric opponent far faster than any mortal man, and with reflexes to match, Vanarus skipped slightly back and to the left of the encroaching sword point, avoiding near certain death by a perilous degree, the blade barely scraped his cloak. What his opponent had perhaps overlooked was that although Vanarus had seemed out of reach before, now he quickly settled into a more traditional fencing style and lunged low and forward on his right foot, his sword piercing through the air quicker than the cumbersome sword could adjust to parry the push-cutting attack aimed at his opponent’s sword wrist and forearm. 

The unfortunate issue with such an attack for Vanarus was that it was not going to have a hope in hell of doing any lasting damage to his foe, if it even cut through the armour at all. Such a sacrifice had to be made however if he wanted to gain anything from his initial advantage, that of his previously unknown speed and fighting style.

Regardless, hoping he had managed to make his small cut unscathed with his surprising burst of inhuman speed, Vanarus quickly pulled back and further to the left, aiming to cause a pulling-cut with his rapier as he pulled his weight back and moved out of harm’s way. Provided he escaped without his opponent swinging his beast of a sword into his body, he would settle the same distance as before away from his foe and begin to circle clockwise, his footwork reminiscent of a more traditional fencing style, right leg slightly forward with the knee bent, and the left leg back pointed away from his body, poised to propel Vanarus forth should he wish to make another strike. 

He raised his blade slightly, no longer fully extended but slightly upturned, brandished with an unnecessary and slightly theatrical flourish. Vanarus had seldom opportunity to duel with someone who thought it wise to bring a claymore into a private battle, and he was interested to see if the reach was worth every other limiting factor of such a weapon.