[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/zQXUPoA.png[/img]
[sub][@HereComesTheSnow][@Conscripts][@Krayzikk][@VitaVitaAR][/sub][/center]

There was only the slightest of shrugs from Serenity in response to her foe. She didn’t like his type either, the elusive, indirect, annoying type. Archers were proper battlefield threats, and in formation, presented a storm that had to be braved. Knife-throwing rogues though?

[b]“Go lick your knife and save me the trouble.”[/b]

No one made a formation out of those; they neither had discipline nor accuracy, and only served as distractions, too drunk on buffoonery to even work as proper assassins of mages. All they had were a bag of tricks. Renar did too, of course, but at least he had the confidence in them to strike in close combat from the openings it created! This, however? Black smoke curled over the chaos of the battlefield and in response, Serenity leapt back herself. Not to retreat, but to mirror Steffen’s positioning. Her work was defensive until there was a greater opportunity, and under the smoke, her opponent could simply circumvent her if she remained still and cautious!

His daggers flashed through the smoke, his form lost within the shroud.

One clanged off the shield, a second missed as she slanted her form, and the third Serenity [i]headbutted[/i], the steel insufficient for piercing one of the sturdiest pieces of armor she had. Without hesitation, she kicked up the two knives that had dropped close to her. She flung one into the throat of an unlucky mercenary at her flank (lucky shot, she’d need more training to make that toss consistent), while the second she withheld, waiting for the smoke to clear and for her opponent to reveal themselves once more.

How strange it was, getting into a knife-throwing fight in the middle of a battlefield populated by cursed giants and madmen. But until the bastard Gerard and Steffen fought was felled, she would make sure that rogue before her was occupied.