NytefallAlso, for the record, I'm unsure how your character is really seeing anything she's doing or Sigurd's doing, as there's a shield directly in front of her face, but ya'know.
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Swing and clunk, surprising or perhaps not. Sigurd knew that fighting an opponent in heavy armour could often be a difficult task. His longsword glanced off heavy armour, the rebound and subsequent carrying of his arm off to his right clearing him from the sphere of influence of the swiftly descending shield. The point of his longsword jarred slightly as the shield made contact, but not significantly as there was a lot of give in his wrist and the weapon itself. Meanwhile, as he had expected the real threat of his attack had gone unnoticed, his own shield swinging into position. He pushed forward with his left foot to close on her, deciding finally to take the fight to its final stage. As he did so his shield came swinging in towards her own at a slight angle, likely to slam into the edge of her own shield with concussive force, the iron edge taking the brunt of the blow. There was only one inevitable outcome when his great stone arm was involved, her own defence would fail, pushing the shield out and away from covering her. As he pushed the shield away his own would twist in his hand, presenting the flat in a shield bind to the back of her shield and across her arm that would prevent further action. It was possible that his shield may slide behind hers instead, in which case the blow could break her arm or hand instead, however in her kneeling position Sigurd had launched the strike so that simply pulling away from it would be too slow.
Once in this risky situation with his opponent’s left side presumably bound up on the outside line, his right arm would be simultaneously drawing his sword back past his hip, preparing for a final blow. Fortunately pushing closer to his foe in this fashion would make manipulating her spear more difficult, the edge may begin to burn through his tougher armour such as the iron shin plates, but no immediate wound was suffered on his advance.
Once in this risky situation with his opponent’s left side presumably bound up on the outside line, his right arm would be simultaneously drawing his sword back past his hip, preparing for a final blow. Fortunately pushing closer to his foe in this fashion would make manipulating her spear more difficult, the edge may begin to burn through his tougher armour such as the iron shin plates, but no immediate wound was suffered on his advance.
OK officially retconning right leg strike to left leg strike. Have work today post will be up this evening.
How terribly dreary. You fight like a criminal defense lawyer.
That has been said before, no doubt it will be again. If you don't hate me by the end of this fight, I'd like to fight you again in unranked so I can prove that I'm not just generally a dick, tournament and ranked play brings out the worst in me. If I wasn't competitive, I wouldn't bother with ranked fighting at all.
For the record though, for the love of god why didn't you just have your character step backwards? It was such an easy solution, definitely less messy than all this pivoting/kneeling/ducking stuff you're doing instead that makes it incredibly hard to visualise.
@Darkmatter Eolas did literally nothing to convince Oliver to stay on the job. Given how little was done to address his concerns it wouldn't make any sense for him to stay.
Other than the classic 'we don't need you anyway' which is a fundamental of reverse psychology and I'd argue one of the most effective baiting tactics of all time.
But you don't believe anything makes sense if it hinders your chances of victory.
How delightfully snide, regardless it seems like you're not accepting the ret-con. In which case, the ruling needs to take into account a different part of the body was struck at, I'm interested to see Pollen's interpretation.
Hello, hi, I'm here for my annual drop-in visit. I see everyone's still doing fine here.
Hey Valeric
Things were moving quickly and the Venar couldn’t have relayed everything going on if he had wanted to. Dropping his hand from the Knight with an audible grunt he leaned back and tried to listen to the strange bird-speak that was common in Ventus. Being spoken down to by a large human with nothing apparently martial about him was somewhat demeaning, but his manner of speech did a lot to console the large beast-man. After him the little bowman shared his apprehension about the Knight and went even further to suggest they should kill him, excessive and perhaps overly cautious, but a fair evaluation of the situation. Considering Bakk’s history, he couldn’t profess to a lot of experience in plotting murder or mischief. However, in some of his misspent years raids had been suggested, and those who seemed overly cautious or fearful always turned out to be massive liabilities. The little woman made some comments, though her accent made her pretty much incomprehensible to the Venar, which would probably have been fortunate considering the circumstances. His sharp gaze shot into the back of Oliver’s head as Eolas spoke once more.
He helped row the boat back to the docks and stepped off, not as unsettled by the travel as the bowman but not overly fond of it either. He strolled after the group, his own coins firmly tucked away in three separate places he watched carefully to see where the others would place their own. It could well be that the opportunity for some looting would arise in the near future.
To say that Bakk was unhappy to see the arrival of giant spiders would be an understatement. No self-respecting Venar would be happy sharing company with a large insectoid. His hackles rose in fear and disgust at the creatures and his right hand slipped unconsciously to the metal axe at his side. Slowly, with a forced coolness he released the tension and the handle of the weapon, remembering why he was taking up with these others and their pointless quest. If he had to ride atop some monstrosity to get what he wanted, there was no question that he would do it.
His musings were interrupted by a strangely dressed fellow holding a cane of short stature, which was proving uncommon for the mercenaries assembled. Whoever he was, he seemed to lack the edge of secrecy Bakk had worked out seemed to be important so far, what with the boat and everything. Then again, he might have been talking about something completely unrelated. Shrugging, the Venar prepared to mount up after Eolas had shown how, and let the strange spider carry him wherever it would. Hopefully to some messy battle where a few of his ‘comrades’ would fall in battle, leaving their coin ripe for the picking.
He helped row the boat back to the docks and stepped off, not as unsettled by the travel as the bowman but not overly fond of it either. He strolled after the group, his own coins firmly tucked away in three separate places he watched carefully to see where the others would place their own. It could well be that the opportunity for some looting would arise in the near future.
To say that Bakk was unhappy to see the arrival of giant spiders would be an understatement. No self-respecting Venar would be happy sharing company with a large insectoid. His hackles rose in fear and disgust at the creatures and his right hand slipped unconsciously to the metal axe at his side. Slowly, with a forced coolness he released the tension and the handle of the weapon, remembering why he was taking up with these others and their pointless quest. If he had to ride atop some monstrosity to get what he wanted, there was no question that he would do it.
His musings were interrupted by a strangely dressed fellow holding a cane of short stature, which was proving uncommon for the mercenaries assembled. Whoever he was, he seemed to lack the edge of secrecy Bakk had worked out seemed to be important so far, what with the boat and everything. Then again, he might have been talking about something completely unrelated. Shrugging, the Venar prepared to mount up after Eolas had shown how, and let the strange spider carry him wherever it would. Hopefully to some messy battle where a few of his ‘comrades’ would fall in battle, leaving their coin ripe for the picking.
Alright, getting on it now.
Well, now what do I do? I don't care if the typo remains, but once again I refute that the shield move wouldn't work if Sigurd had targeted the right leg rather than the left. If you're happy, Chimera, to respond instead to a left leg attack (which could predominantly be defended against with the same move) that's fine, otherwise in the current situation I don't believe it makes sense.
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