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

For a moment, he'd thought that had been it. Surely, whatever was behind the armor had to be [i]vulnerable[/i]. And then Renar was quickly proven wrong as he narrowly evaded the retaliatory strike of flame with a tilt of his head. 

And then he returned to a desperate defensive, frantically parrying and evading the barbs sent after him. This was getting ridiculous. He couldn't read an enemy that didn't have tells! His teeth grit. This was just random. No thought, strategy, or practice behind the lashing barbs. To lose to such a cheap wretch with no appreciable skill would just be insulting. 

What to do, then? Precision had already failed. He still had no few tricks left, but half of them were discarded in his mind: they'd be of no use against a foe like this. Gerard or Fionn would likely have powered through by now, but Renar was more of a cerebral fighter than an instinctual one. He'd need a complete shift in mentality to change his approach in the middle of a battle. Better to weigh his other options first. 

Not simply charging in didn't mean he couldn't rely on main force. He'd just need a more suitable weapon first. As Renar dove to the side to evade a barb, coming up in a roll, he finally spied it: his poleaxe, lying discarded but meters away. The moment he confirmed where it was, an idea formed in his head. Another flash bomb was hurled at the trapper's feet, the small explosion hopefully blinding it while dissipating some of the smoke around its form. When its vision cleared, it would see Renar's sword hurled straight at its head, with its wielder in question following up almost immediately after, the hammer head of his poleaxe coming down to crash into the trapper's helm while it was distracted with the blade.