Clashing Titans
#3
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I hope you don't mind this bit of powerplay I'm about to do << Let me know, and we can change it.


He had taken his walk and decided that after one more sniff around, he'd be done with this place for good. Not just the fight, he thought, but all of the ruins. He might linger a short while longer, but if Skoll's kids wanted to stay here terribly, they hadn't shown him or anyone else much sign. It seemed that their delay had been nothing more than a long goodbye to the place their friend had called home. Somehow, that didn't bother him. With no one who lived here, he doubted he'd make another pilgrimage like this. It was done. His respects had been paid, and his daughters were growing up back home without him...it was time to return, soon.


It was just as he resolved this that he came across the alley, and--just as it had happened when the fight had first broken out--he practically ran into someone who was already there. Surprisingly, the person was even taller than he was. Out of chance alone, or maybe due to his experience, he noticed the wolf was holding something in his hand; Jantus couldn't tell what the object was, but a dozen unconscious cues told him immediately to be on his guard. The object was a sword, and it came swinging his way almost sooner than he could react. He had begun drawing the half-axle he called a club a moment before the attack came, and a the sword blade cut through the leather haft-wrap down to the metal core of his weapon. Jantus pushed forward--he didn't want this--a weapon fight against a sword-wielder was extremely dangerous, especially with a heavy club which left so many openings. No telling how good his enemy was. He was reminded of Rurik, but the Russian wasn't half this wolf's size.


It was hard to tell, but Jantus got the impression that he was heavier than this individual, even though he was half a head shorter. Pushing him backward, he used one of the corpses to trip his enemy, and followed his fall to the ground, fumbling his heavy club in the processing and immediately deciding to secure a grip on the wrist of his foe's sword-arm. He began slamming down with the elbow of his free hand...hoping that the immediate threat of severe damage would prompt his enemy to drop the sword and try to protect his face.


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