[centre][h3]Rider - Marko[/h3][/centre]
It seemed the rocks missed their target again. Marko clicked his tongue in annoyance.

He had almost lost track of the enemy in the debris, but then a trident came flying from the cloud. Compared to his own throws, it was like it was moving in slow motion. Marko let it pass by his head, the wind tussling his hair and nearly taking his hat off. 

“Finally going on the offensive, huh?” He called out. “Alright, let’s see what you’re made of.”

Nearby, the fairy lounged in a sea of wool, sinking beneath it again, her toes and knees rising as her head descended.

The dust seemed to swirl around the enemy, as if the battlefield itself was attempting to obscure him. Unfortunately for the enemy, he had already announced his presence, and his killing intent was clear. 

He met the enemy’s charge, his war-spear manifesting in a single hand. He nudged the sheep forwards, his skill at manipulating a mount bringing out its strength to throw the enemy off balance. 

The spears clashed, his shaft simply knocking the gladiator’s own off course, its own point glancing away from the enemy in the clash.

And in the other hand, another rock was ready, to smash through the enemy’s guard, curving around this new shield, to blast into the enemy at point-blank range.

[@Ducksworth]