Good to see how a foe will deal with a threat. In a world where magic exists, it is an awful crutch not to have any of your own. A lesson Rook learned early in his career. Magic is like any weapon, except when it’s not, because the main threat in magic is that it can manifest itself in so many forms, and unlike a gun, you don’t know what it’s going to do until it does it. By which point, it’s sometimes too late. So, it was good to see how his foe would deal with a threat. He avoided it, partially, so he evidently felt he needed to. But was he harmed by the graze? Not discernibly, something around his torso seemed to mar, almost like dry glue flaking away. So, he had some defence against physical impact.

The guy still had a lot to learn about fighting for real, anyway. He just stood there looking dumb for a moment after impact, probably showing off some more magic, and then he had the audacity to run straight at Rook. The Mercenary had to bite back the urge to tell him how bad a plan that was, but he figured it was best not to look a gift horse in the mouth and frankly, he had a reputation to maintain. At least until it was convenient to reveal that he was more than met the eye.

The second barrel of the shotgun, primed and aimed directly at his incoming foe, as it had been since the first shot, erupted as another beanbag hurtled towards Quebra. This time, he was certainly ready for it, but his action didn’t really suggest he had considered the fact that running right towards a projectile significantly reduces your options. Especially when said projectile is aimed right for the same spot as before, where the armour is weak and your guard is too, the lower torso.

That was it for gun-play, at least for now, though it would have been over even sooner if Quebra learned to use his environment to his advantage. Success or failure, it was irrelevant, Rook had gotten his digs in cost-free, save a couple bean-bag rounds. He slid the shotty back into its holster with a practised flourish, presenting the shield toward the charging Greek, and then calmly braced against it with his right hand wrapping around the side handle. Two hands on his shield, and a lot of bulk, the Rook was ready for whatever Quebra could manage when he finally got into range.