[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inA3Sp9MAZ4[/youtube][/center] Tablurath heard the crack of gunfire, the sound audible in the quiet following the storms passing. Watching the barrels path with telescopic sight -allowing him to see through the remaining dust in the air- he predicted its path in his minds eye. Aroudn them the sand was already returning to the ground it had been kicked up from. Having thrown his swords clone over his right arm, he let his left hand rest above his right forearm. Tablurath’s previous preparation allowed him to easily intercept the incoming shot by angling Serenity by forty degrees up to his right with a twist of his wrist. Allowing the face of Serenity to deflect the shot to his right side. The sound of metal striking metal echoed for a brief moment, the bullet just grazing his right shoulder and back as it sailed past him. Thus announcing the sound of metal scraping lead moments after the first as another indention cut a path through his shoulder plate. Thankfully missing flesh. His movements were frustratingly slower than he’d have liked, the increased gravity making itself known, but he didn't waste time lamenting that fact. Taking satisfaction that his real goal had been reached. He pushed off his left leg as he shot forward, black mist weaving about him as it leaked from the sheath at his waist circling his form. He closed the distance in two heartbeats, following two bounding steps through the sand. He stopped some six feet away stepping forward with his right leg, causing his body to twist sideways allowing his weapon side to face the mage. Simultaneously making him a smaller target while giving greater range with Serenity. He swept his sword into a quick raft cut from the upper right down at an angle aimed for the left side of the Torm’s neck. The path of his sword sailing through a gathering of ash from his upper right side, causing the vague shape of that same weapon to begin to materialize there. The threads of magic around them becoming more visible with every passing moment. Meanwhile, perhaps, unnoticed by his opponent. The first canister of nano-machines had begun to leak a steady stream of mibs into the air some eighteen feet to the Torms right at his 4 O’clock.