[u][b]Thessir[/b][/u]

"Ow."

That was pretty much the most reaction she got out him from that.

The bop to the nose did effect him As his head rolled back, slapping against the back of his coat before rocking back up like a weeble-wobble. Now the halberd was back in her hand and she was yelling some gibberish again. He couldn't even hear it but it didn't shake him like the first time so it had to be something else. He hadn't delivered any new injuries so she wasn't recovering herself either it seemed.

Standing up as she faffed about he got back on his two feet in time to see her brace her polearm and... charge at him point first.

[i]Wait, really?[/i] He quirked an eyebrow with the realization this was her next plan of attack. [i]Either she's dumber than I thought or there's some magic trick up hir sleeve. 
Either which way it's foolish to believe I'd simply lit her hit me.[/i]

As she approached he struck a stance not unlike a fencer. His main foot forward he led with his dominant hand, the left, which clutched a dagger aimed point first towards his target. As she neared him he feinted a stab along the right channel of attack and watched her body language closely to see if she fell for it or not. Right at the moment her weapon was to meet with his inky semi-flesh a couple actions occurred simultaneously.

_
The first of two concurrent events was that firstly he opened up his body at the point the halberd was about to pierce. The hole expanded instantly, leaving his body in a large O shape with the head of the halberd smack dab in the middle of it. Her weapon passed through without touching a single millimeter of his strange mass, perforating naught but the backside of his jet black coat.

The second action taken was a deadly stab of his own. Coming directly in from the left channel of attack he thrust his dagger with a forward lunge, countering her own aggression with his own as he drove straight for her throat. This strike was predicated on the idea that she'd be so consumed with finishing him with her blow so close to fruition that she'd forsake any measure of defense against his counter attack. He didn't have to worry about suffering mortal injury since her blade wasn't even going to touch him so he had all the freedom to claim this blow with impunity. Even the advantage of reach that her weapon afforded her meant little since he extended his arm, borrowing mass from his free arm, to close the extra distance between his dagger and her neck.

Since she loved to cry all the time he planned to take her very voice away, deprive her of the means to her magic. As the dagger neared her sweat moistened skin his plan neared it's fruition.