[b]Quar[/b]

Knight of Zaldar!

Your opponent dances back from her strike, ducking under the swing and getting in behind you before you can complete your trap. You can still feel the pain from her blow - both the phantom injury from her blade as well as the deeper ache that comes from the knowledge that you will not win this fight. Indeed, your last hope, your only ace, is stripped away from you even now. Whatever your opponent is, however committed to this fight she is in mind, she has held back enough to spot the cartridge.

Her hand grips your wrist, pulling it away and sending it skittering along the surface of the platform where it detonates. And in that flash - rendered in stark white and blacks - she brings her sword once again down on you.

The sword strikes just below your arm, monofilament edges scoring your armour at the joint.

Her left hand releases your wrist, as a new blade extends from a hidden compartment. It hits you along the hip, sparks flying as it traces the contours of your leg with a lover's precision.

Her right hand is empty as it plunges into your chest, through the opening made by her earlier strike. Long metallic fingers reach inside, they brush your drive, delving deeper, reaching ... reaching ... before ...

They ... withdraw?

Your heart still beats, your drive still has fire within it. Your arm joint was not severed, as should have been the case. And apart from the scoring on your hip, no blow has penetrated.

[i]Speak not to the outsider.[/i]

But she's saying something to you anyway.

She's saying you can't win. You're outclassed. And if she had wanted to end this fight it would have been over now.

She's saying she knows what it feels like to lose like this. To these moves. Do you recognise them? 

She's saying she won't do that to you. She doesn't want to hurt you like that.

The Novasurge withdraws, blade readied. She's waiting on your reply. But what is she offering? To teach you? To ally with you?

The sword is levelled, and a single rune blazes to life.

[i]Kneel.[/i]

What do you do?

[b]Isabelle.[/b]

You've always been good at denying yourself things, even when they'd ultimately benefit you. In this case, cleaving to your mother's instructions is more important than losing yourself completely in the fight.

So you don't. You stay focused. You remember the task.

But things [i]are [/i]different than before. And they may well keep being different going forward. It'll just take a single step at a time. Inch by inch. Seeing what you can get away with.

Right now, it's in hoping your opponent wants Solarel more than they want the win.

And it's not like your mother can complain if your plan works. After all, what's more impressive than defeating a Zaldarian knight than getting one to surrender?

[Isabelle forgoes the XP to avoid the trap and instead is trying to entice a surrender. Roll: 6 + 3 + 0 = [b]9[/b]]