[center][h3]Erickson of the God Eaters[/h3][/center]


[i][u]Unknown location-893 HP-3/4 Stamina                                                                                     	                                                        [/u][/i]

Erickson recoiled from the stone fisted blow, the solid fist crunching and warping his visor shut. He backpedaled with the blow, cursing as he did, dropping his smaller blade, working at the latches of his helmet and pulling them lose one by one until he threw off his helmet, his face now bare to the world. Blood dripped from his mouth as he scowled at the faceless brigand, before the cruel smile returned to his face.

Worthy flesh! Finally he would... then the creature already slain had bubbbled into nothing... no body, no flesh, no bone... just magic. Erickson roared his fury to his opponents, his size giving the sound much needed volume and bass, his allies no doubt hearing the guttural noise of rage. Again he rushed at his opponent, moving quickly but taking his time not to charge and leave himself open. Wielding his large longsword in both hands so as to bring his full strength to bear. He realised impalement would not work, so a beheading would be necassary.

Once within range he took a quick step forward, moving the blade as if to bring a simply and extremely telegraphed wild swing meant to lop off the brigand's head. However, he pivoted, the attack had been a faint meant to leave his opponent open as he had learned so long ago, and the blade was instead brought higher up, quicker and more controlled to a point where the creatures head would simply be cut in half, Erickson imagined that this would be adequate enough. Besides, he was the only one hit! He would not be shown up by the rest of his party, he was a God Eater and God Eaters were not weak, and they did not fail.