[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mkFbcLS.png[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/c5i0HyX.png[/img][/center][sub][color=silver]T I M E :[/color]   One Week After Human Arrival
[color=silver]L O C A T I O N :[/color] A Random Warehouse, Port10
[color=silver]I N T E R A C T I O N S :[/color] [@JJ Doe]
[color=silver]T A G S :[/silver]    [@JJ Doe] ,   [@Conscripts][/sub]
[color=silver][sub]E Q U I P M E N T :[/sub][/color][hider=][sub]N/A[/sub][/hider]
 

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/DkWjPqa.png?1[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/0hgKymt.png[/img][/center]



	 [color=silver]Rowan was ready this time. A repeat of [i]last[/i] time was out of the question. He had his reasons. Pride. Honor. But also, the faint breath of his sister trembling against his skin. He could feel her cry of pain in the gentlest wind.

       A less refined creature would have murmured something under his breath. Rowan would admit later, how he felt about Vasco was embarrassing and lacked self-control. However, under the heat of the battle, his mind was sharp and resilient. His experience was shining in his cold eyes. His beef with Vasco stayed in its place. Here and now, he was a an honorable warrior.

      Both Aurora and Vasco were light compared to the Elven warriors he had helped before them. His body tilted, muscles flexing on his left side, swinging momentum from his right thigh and extending his right calf. His foot scraped over [b]Whisker’s[/b] face, and Rowan caught himself, right foot touching the ground with vibrancy.


     A cheeky wit was about to munch its way from the demihuman’s  mouth, when Rowan’s opposite foot landed its dorsum across the enemy’s cheek. His head twisted with the crash. Saliva and blood sputtered where words should have been. 


      Rowan panted, taking the small moment to recover. His feet were ready, on toes. His legs, bent at the knees and ready.  Eyes, piercing like a snake, calculated the stumble of [b]Whiskers[/b] before the next move. His humanoid body fumbled. Muscles twisted to control his form. Feet mumbling against the ground before letting his body collapse. His body rolled, waist arching to push himself upwards, but another foot was already meeting his torso, this time.

     Steel blue eyes darted around, anticipating the next needed move. His chest breathed in and out, extracting muscle and sweat. His Adrenalin was in-control. 

     The war hammer rested between the Light Elf and his next opponent. Without an owner it was useless, and his opponent was still recovering from some sort of clumsy stance. 

      Rowan decided he would not be using the hammer. He knew better than to put either Aurora or Vasco down. His feet moved quickly, again, with a bated breath. If he could out maneuver [b]Ironboot[/b] then he would be guaranteed a victory. This all seemed possible as his feet broke into a sprint.

      He was more agile than the Dwarf. His strength could theoretically be an issue, but he was going to risk his odds. His body danced around, swinging his kicks against a Dwarf that used his wrist cuffs as shields, until finally the Dwarf stumbled, again, on debris. The bottom of Rowan’s foot slammed into the dwarf’s large nose.

      Rowan offered no prideful words as the Dwarf faltered. No rebuttal of victory or mocking shame. Instead, a clean cut with his heel to the ear, side of head. Just underneath the [b]Ironboot’s[/b] headgear. [/color]