[@Bright_Ops]
When he saw them pull out their bows, he internally laughed a little. The heavy-stubber would be able to rip through a whole platoon especially in the open before the arrow even hit him, and if he died the Ministorum Priest in charge of his section of the Frateris Militia would personally execute them with his eviscerator. Still, the Beastman had shown good faith, so the man through his weapon to the side, it smacking the earth unharmed; it was a rugged thing that would not break without some true effort. He ripped off the front plate of his armour and the rest came off easily after wards. Finally exposing his bare, scarred chest and tattered remains of leather pants. Even his feet were bare, having scar tissue thick enough to strike matches on. It was as the last bit of armour hit the earth, he realized he never had a fistfight. All these years he was cutting or shooting Orks, before that he was a paper pusher. "It would be an education!" he mused. 

Still, he knew how duels worked, at least in his section of the world. He walked until there was about twenty feet between them and bowed, before going in the approximate stance he used with his mono-knives; one fist was raised higher to protect himself and the other lower for gut-oriented strikes. He sniffed expectantly. He did not know the personal meaning of the insult Khaz brought upon him so he retorted with a casual air about him. "You know it's quite funny [i]you[/i] call [i]me[/i] bull-headed." He braced himself for a charge, which he knew the Beastman would most likely go along with.