[center][h1][color=ff5000][b]Renar Hagen[/b][/color][/h1][/center]

Alright, truth be told, Renar hadn't actually expected the blinding powder to be [i]effective[/i]. Was he expecting it to serve as a distraction so he could get a real blow in? Of course. But this was better than expected. 

And now it was retreating. And afraid. Or at the very least, faking it very well. Still, Renar couldn't help but exult to himself in his head that he'd made a member of the Wild Hunt [i]fear[/i] him. Not to grow cocky, but best to keep the pressure and not give the wretch a chance to even breathe. 

The Bastard of Brias stalked forward menacingly, his left hand reaching down to his belt to draw a throwing knife and hurl it at the huntsman. And then another. And then a third. Teach it that distance didn't render him less of a threat. His pace grew faster with each knife thrown, aiming to keep the trapper off balance while he closed the gap, moving to slam the hammer head of his poleaxe into his foe's helmet as soon as he got within range once more.