[center][h3][color=C0392B]Rudolf Shilage[/color][/h3][/center]

Metal rang against metal at the summit, and Rudolf grit his teeth as the twin points of yellow of the Valheimr general's helm crossed paths with enshrouded bronze beneath his visor, holding for a moment's search. Even for all the training he had thrown himself at, the dozens of hard-fought battles he had survived... all that work that had forged Rudolf into what he now was still found itself wanting. It was like striking a steel wall. 

That mighty cleaver didn't budge, even with the full force of the lunge he'd taken to deliver the swing. He could feel it through the edge, despite his own straining— he wasn't going to overwhelm this man with brute force. Even now, such was folly— but he didn't need to overpower Garland on his own, either, necessarily. So long as he kept him occupied, and forced more of this stonewall defense out of him, he could close down the opportunities to impede the others from assisting Garuda, the [i]real[/i] priority here.

So he just needed to keep the pressure up, and leverage what advantages he [i]did[/i] have over the bigger knight. If not strength, then surprise.

Beneath the occluded, almost-noon skies of Sakel, Shadows began to pool at the two combatants' feet, dimming beneath the clash of their blades—[sup]1[/sup]

A shift in Garland's shoulder, the flash of the tropics screaming through Rudolf's somatic memory a mere instant too late—

—And then, his ears exploded with the sound of a ringing, keening bell of heavy bronze, and the unshaded snow rushed up to meet his visor, filling his field of view with fragmentary white. He was on the ground, pain blossoming in a warm, fuzzy knot between helm and temple, leaking down the side of his face. He could hear the rumble of the voice overhead after a thunderclap, surely in Garland's timbre, but not the words themselves.

Iron. Iron in his mouth. blood? Probably. He was in a fight, after all. He needed to rise. His body. He needed it to respond. Didn't he have help?

[i].
.
T̲̬͚͇̫̭̬̻̗͙́͂͗́̅̉͞͝h̷̡̧̗̲̰͈͎͒̀̅̾̓́̒͞i̦̙̼̞̜̗͔̪̻͊̓̂̂̊̍́̒š̢̧̧͈̻͖͔̦̪̦͌̀̌̏ i̢̫͙̜̬̰̳̊̊̆̀̈̀s͈̘̰̿̎̒͑͘͘͢ͅ b̶͉̜̹͚͚̣̯͍̈́̔̓̏̃̊̒̾̀͟͟ã̡̭̯͚̰̖̂͑̉̀͌̈́̐́͠d̶̢̨̡͉̯̳̞̻̽̈̍̃̅͜ͅ.̷̨̯̭̩̰̐̋̄̆́̊̕͢ Ī͖̯̭̙̲͔͒̈̑͒̽͗͞ c̴͙͖̣̜͎̯͉̱̫͗̆̾̄̄̕͜͡a̶̟̣͓͔̹͙͉͔̿̍̒̀̆͋͆̐͛̎n̵̡̡͓̣̫̬̬̟͒̽̋̒́͞ t̵̥͎̠̲̤̫̠̔̋̓̐̂̓ḩ̶̣̺̠̝͕́̌̓̄̈̈͞ͅͅi̡̧̤̙̲̖̠̼̰̥͌̈́̀̐̚̕͝ń̖͎̙̔̀̈̒͐͑̚͢͜ḱ̶̢̻̰͖̙͓̪̐́͒͛͟͟͡ c̷̡̫͈̳̜͙͔͓͂͂̒́̔͗̕͟͢l̛̛̹̪͓̱͎̯̺͆̃̎́̆̊̂̐ẽ͉̖͕͈̣̅̈́͒́̽̇̋̔͌á̵̧̧̱̠͈͙͙̲͓͐̎̾͑̇̊̕͢͝ŗ̷̢̻̠͙͕̯̫̘̌̈̌̇̅͌ļ̶̪̣̬͓̞͙͖̬̅͒͌̆̂̚͢y̨̢̲̭̭͓̥͗́̀͘̚,̶̨̛̫͈̰̰̝̮̝̆̈̒̄̈̑̚ͅ b̨̨̫͍̟̬̦̙̬̈̓͑͟͡͞ū̸̫̣̖̼͇́̄̿́̅͠͠ͅt͔̯̭̖͖̭͚͐̾̄̊͜͝͝ Ȋ̯̝͇̻̔̄͌͜͠ c̘̗͇̙̝̯̖̟̹̠̀̽̍̄͛á̧̠̪̮̖̣̪͔̬̆̆̓̊̓̔͢n̝̹͍̯͍͍͌̃̍͋͢͝͝ͅ'̷̮͓̞̝̘̏̆̓̈́̀͞t̥̮͈̭̹̘̩͕͔͉̃̉͒̉̍̀̕͡͝ s̸͍̲̟͋̽̍̊̚͟͟e̛̪̲̰̮̠͕͓̎̍̓͒̈́ḙ̤̹̼͒̓̓̆̀͟ ő͕͉̯͓̹́̓̀̔̆̀͡͡͠r̢̧̧̤͔̩̠̯͓̔̆͐̃̽͡ f̞̝̹̖̰̹̎͑͂̍̑͢ę̷͓͕͖̦͚̠̘̮̌̓́̏̈́͡͡ě̡̢̖̞̖̜̣̥̼̃̿̈̃͒̋̓͢l̬͓͖̙̗̫̰̪̥̊́͒̾̐͋͐͜͞͠͠ a̷̱̘̖͍͈̺̿̔̽̈́̂n̢̳̞̞̞̫͐̀́̃͛͝͞y̨̠̩̥̘̯̪͙̪͍̍̃͆̇͗̔͑́̊̂ b͚̬̮̞̪̙̩̋̿̀̊̄͗͆̿͞ę̢̳̠̬͙̪̤͎̘̑̌͆͗͆́͒̏͞t̴͍̞̺͖̪̼̮̤̓͗͊͛͗̑͟͝t̫͓͎̝̬̪̻̫̗̉̈̋̋̐̆̐̕͢͞͡ȩ̧͇̯̬͚͗́̂̀̋̊̓̀̇͐͜r̸̻̜̠͚̦͍͇̗̽͒̊̔̓̌̽͊͠͠ t̢̧̘͇̲͍̟̙̣̔̐̒͒̀́̿̕͟ḩ̠̝̦͎̞̱͆́̅͒͌͘͜a̢̘̩̳͉̬̙̓̌̒̒̇̀̈́̀͆ͅͅn̴̦̤̗̝͔̱̎̉͂̽̕͘͘͠͡͠ y̡̫͉͇̞̳͊́͌͂͊͂ớ̭͎̪̳̙͖͂́͒̀̔̿̆͋͜ù̸͚̰̖̺̭̼̯̻̆͛́̅͘̕͝ c̛̱̗̞̥̗̼͆̊̌̓̏̔͊̽a̷̢̰̤̟̣͑̊̄͋̊͆̎͟͡n̴̨̛͉̪̰̻͂̃̊̀͑́͌͝.͍̗̹̺͎̥̠̇̅̔͑́̈́ Ḫ̷̢̘̣̹̠̹͎͔͌͛̿͐̉͊͢͡͞e̵̩̦̠̦̙͛̉́͠͠ g̨͈͓̩͎̼̗̣͖̐̈́̆̋̈͑̾̋͜ǫ̛̛͖͖̬̦̮͐̎̑͊̉̾̔͒͢͟ţ̴̨̮̬̯̟̽̐͂͊̍̾̉̕͘ m̸̧͙̟̺̣̮̭͈̩̑̈́͛̔̈́̎̓͐̕͜͝ë̢̛̪̣̘͎́̔͐̈̍͆̑͋͝ p̡̳͇͎̻͈̤̽̇̐̀̈́̃̄̊̿͢r̷̺͖̲͙̪͇͗͋͐͊̈́̋̌͘͟͠͠ȩ̷̧͉̩̳̪͎̯̯̔̓̃̔̚̚͝t̴̟̘̗͍̾̑́̋̒̓̇̐͗͋͟t̵̫͎̱̤͓̞͚͉͋̓͆͡͞y̼͈͇͍̎͆͌̊̿͢ g̢̧̢̛̻̬̯̺̻͖͇̔̿̓̈́͑o̴͚̬̪͕̹̟͛̇̿̍̔͌̚͟ơ̵͖̲̖̟̥̐͊͒̑̕͜d͕̤̺̝̮̘̈̿͗̀͌̿͘͢͝ͅͅͅ,̸̧̗͚̞̳͙͓̗͒͒̑̍̌̽̓͝͠ͅ b̢͎̤̟̬̝͍̰̫͔͗͑̋̆̀͊͠ų̵̛̠̳̲̜̲̀̊͗̽͟͜͜͢t̨̧̮̬̤̅̑̉̔͌̕͞ y̧̧̨͉̝̤̻̦̣͆̏̄̀̀̂̓́̈͝o̙͍̟̦̘̺̬͌͌̋̿̌͛̓ư̧͉̣̼̝̠̪̫̣͈̆̎͊́̈́̃̚'̯̙̬͚͎͙͊̋̏̐͆̋͛͢d̞͉̫̳̲̰̰̋̑́̂͌̕ͅ ḃ̝̺̰̫̣̾̍̾̾͛̒̀̔͜e̴̡̨̝͍̪͓̙͎̖͋̓̒̕͝t̢̡̳̹͖̖̿̉̈͆͠ţ̧̱̭͈̪̞̓̐̂̏̽̋ͅȩ̛̯͚̜̟͍̩̲̹̳̃͋̑̿r̢̲̤̘̻̣̘̙͓͈̾͊̓̏̚͞͠ ṇ̴̛̗̤̤͈̬͂̽̈́̂ǫ̴̢̛̮̥͈̩̲̼̒͑̀̊̾̽ẗ̴̫̞̯͓̤̖̻́̈́̃͛͆̆̂̕ ď͖͇̠̗̯͔̑̍̄̀̒̑͠i̢̨̙͕̯̫͖͓̫̤͒́̑̀̃̽̔̿͋e̷̡͙̱͈͍̹̾̒̄̓͘̕͜ h̵̨̛̛̯̮̦̜̙̦͌̈̈͂̕͠͡ě̡̢̛̺̪̬̠̭̓̿̃͋̀̚͢ŕ̮̬̩̺̰͈̦̬́̉̍̓̚e̷̟̘̰̩͇͛̃̿̈́͗̈̌̚,̴̡̲̰̩̞̲͇̖̔̄̂̒͒̑ b̵̨͎̬͕̬̮̘́̄̏̽̇̓̑͜͡͝r̸̠̦͎̫̣͒̍͊͆̊́̓̉̀̍ͅą̵̠̣͙͕̪̩̤̾̄͋͐͊͆͛͞͝ṯ̶͈̬̗̞̣̰̥̓͌͑́͒̍͜͠.̡̲̙̳͙̲̾̈́̀͆̿̊͑͑̕ͅ Ú̶̟̰͉̠̯̏̇̏̃̊̿ͅp̸̢̫͚͈̯̘̽͆̃̉̉.̶͕̜̺̙̭͒͋̾̉̀̌̇̍̚͘
.
.[/i][sup]2[/sup] 

Bell rung, no doubt about it. Now he and Esben were in the same boat— they'd have to mutually agree to never tell Lene about eachothers' respective brain trauma. He grit his teeth, forcing will to flood his limbs and reorder them. The act drove a spike through the side of his head, but he could thank his helm for one thing, at least: It had absorbed the force of the blow well enough that he hadn't suffered the jaw being smashed out of socket. Yay. Improvement from Valon.

With titanic effort, Rudolf stilled his limbs and craned his neck, forcing himself skyward as he took in what he immediately needed of the field. Garland had gotten past him, and in his wake a storm of falling icicles, spearlike fangs, crashing through the gap between them and the eidolons. No go. High above, Izayoi, calling for lightning as Garland would doubtless surge to meet her—

Savvy and strong, too much by half, to allow Raijingeki in a vacuum. Rudolf's mind had reordered enough now, in these precious seconds, that he could manage he blur and sway of his perception enough to act. A silver lining to each time he had suffered a heavy blow like this before. 

He had to immobilize Garland. He had to get strength back, and sap away at the interloper's, and above all, burn away that time the black knight would otherwise use to swat her out of the air.

All achievable, thanks to his new recruit.

His dagger was still in hand. 

Good. Legs weren't done wobbling. He could feel it.

[color=c0392b]"Not done with you... [i]YET![/i]"[/color]

Planting it into the earth, he used the ad-hoc piton to wrench himself forward in a low, almost skidding surge forward, a sickly red haze of aether shrouding the outstretched hand that swiped aside the regal purple cloak into the wind and clamped itself around the horned knight's greave. As the absorption materia made its presence known, he pulled, and pulled hard, with the muscles of his back— even if he couldn't ground the man here, he could at least make him [i]fight[/i] for that next step.

[hr][hr]
[list]
[*][sub]1. Oh, we had better shadowstep quick, that right hand is—[/sub]
[*][sub]2. ...[/sub]
[*][sub]3. ...[/sub]
[*][sub]4. ...e back? Do I ...ve signa...?[/sub]
[/list]