This man was skilled, dangerously skilled. Rodetta knew very few humans who could swing a sword so hard and be blocked, only to re-approach with no recoil. Its like he shield was a whetstone for him to grind his sword against. To be able to achieve that sort of form one must be expertly disciplined in the complex eastern arts that Rodetta was vaguely familiar with. But the warriors of the east she had seen before were more measured, more cautious and meditated, like machines. This fiend in black was more like a well of living oil, fluid and slippery with his every move, and he was fast, faster than Rodetta herself but not so much where she couldn't stay competitive. She was an expert in her own discipline.

Now she was able to clear some ground just as he began to dart forward to close the gap to 3 feet from her, but she was not going to be chased down again. Like a Cobra strike she expertly thrust her spear at the man's centre chest area as he dashed forward to approach her, as fast as he was, she still had the reach advantage as her spear was much longer than his blade. She caught him in forward momentum so she was confident her attack would hit somewhere. And to be to close as this attack was unfolding would have him end up impaled on her spear as she jabbed it directly in his attack path. Her feet were planted in the ground and smoke began to rise up from the damp wood of the ship's deck, her body was getting even hotter...