Neil had managed to outmaneuver the one gunning for him, flanking his own team and dancing around the swinging clubs. He tried to get to his dropped shield, but it was too far across the field for him to make it to it just yet. "Yeah that does pose a problem," he replied as nonchalantly as he could to Sayeeda when he formed up with her again. Thankfully they had gotten the point with their quick thinking. A few of the others had noticed it too. One of the tribesman approached, and Neil held his club up defensively before he realized this one was on their team. 

He attempted to speak to them, clicking his tongue and pointing his fingers. "Oh, cool." he sighed. [i]At least this one wasn't ignorant there might be a language gap[/i]. From what Neil could gather, he and the other would head for the middle while Sayeeda was instrumental with going round the enemy team...probably. Neil gestured to himself, as if to say 'no shield' but the tribesman was already moving. Sighing, Neil headed off with him, straight into seeing the first death on the field. It was a man on their team who had been unlucky enough to be struck in the temple. Blood spittled out of his mouth and ears as he fell heavily onto the dirt. 

"Ew," Neil stated, though he did his best to take advantage of the sudden pause from the death and furiously attack the one who killed him, swiping and thrusting his club instrument. The tribal player blocked with his shield, and then raised his own club to come crashing down on Neil. The Pilot instinctively thrust his hand out to catch the shaft, but no blow came. He saw the enemy tribesman gawking at his hand, and it was at that moment Neil realized the man saw the Xenos symbol that had been engraved on it. 

Neil unceremoniously thwacked the guy on the head, knocking him out cold. 

"And who said tattoos were poor choices?" the pilot quipped.

A garbled cry in the foreign language brought his attention to the ball suddenly flying over them like a freighter slingshotting around a moon. Neil leaped and knocked it, though it went wide and soared onto one of their foes's shields. Bouncing to the ground. Luckily, Junebug was close by. Neil cried out with his best tribal cry and sprang forward, trying to use his hand as a distraction do the warrior didn't knock the ball away before she could get to it. 

Above them, the crowds cheered and hooted. The sun was at its zenith in the sky, and the onlookers began a strange, archaic song. 
[@Penny]