Don’t thrust don’t thrust,

Excellent.

Metz forced himself up, springing from his crouched position to exploit his enemy’s overextension. Six feet spacing with a three and a bit foot sword was a bit of a push for a body cut on a crouching man, not much but enough that the arm had to be fully extended. That was where the trap lay, that and his spell which he quickly abandoned as a sham. The wound to his leg was really inconsequential to the Mage, who had hardly been moving around at all and had therefore refrained from giving away much. He moved as the man stopped and showed signs of the oncoming cut, forcing his weight forward uncomfortably onto his right foot, bouncing into a standing position a little to the right, the power coming from his uninjured leg. He took a single ginger step on his left and then pivoted his left foot as the sword swung in, entering within the man’s guard as his leap had covered three feet. He turned and slammed his body rightward with all his force to pivot, his right arm extended to plunge the knife in his hand in a forward grip into the man’s lower torso hopefully as he fell towards him.

Meanwhile, as his body pivoted his left arm reached out to grasp the sword-hand flying towards his body, trying to seize the wrist and lock, before completing the spin and pulling with his left hand, aiming to the drag the man past him. The end result was to have him off-balance, increasing the likelihood of him being pulled into the knife blow, and subsequently thrown behind the Mage and into his circle. His grip and pull was within human realms, but was likely to surprise the swordsman as it had behind it the strength of an extreme power-lifter.

Metz attack was quick, but behind that was his desperate survival instinct and the belief that if nothing else, his decision to go on the offensive with only a knife to his name would be unexpected by most opponents who had just seen him apparently badly injured.