[i]Zande didn't fight like a reasonable man. He threw everything he had into a life or death assault, completely without physical or mental restraint. The staff would impact the daggers with a desperate, reverberating pressure which might actually damage her wrists from the shock. Were she to be pushed back, Zande would hop back and hurl the metal rod at her knees. Whilst she was dealing with that he'd scoop up his fallen axe once more, wielding it in his left hand and using his right to reach around behind his head. If given the opportunity, he would pull the terrible visage of a thick, black steel tribal mask down over his face, which had been hanging on the back of his neck. What was to come after that would make the first few minutes of the fight seem like a sweet dream.[/i]