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originally posted in:The New Dojo
8/12/2017 4:43:07 AM
1
"And you, as well," The woman would murmur in response.
The moment she had kicked the man, she took a couple swift steps forward while he was still slightly off balance, aiming a quick horizontal slash at his torso.
English
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He stumbled back and allowed himself to fall. He somersaulted backwards, taking a slight graze acoss his stomach as he did. Still, no blood had been drawn.
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In the middle of the man's somersault, the woman's left hand would momentarily let go of her grip, her right hand still clutching it tightly. Her left hand would grab and hug the man's leg while he did his fancy flip, causing his back to hit the ground. Simultaneously, she would swing her sword in a vertical arc, aiming to strike the man's chest, all the while keeping a firm hold on the man's leg. And of course she'd stop the blade before it actually hit the man.
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His other leg shot out, his hobnail boot connecting with her stomach as he knocked aside her blow with his sword.
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The woman let out a painful cough, staggering, but kept a firm grip on the man's leg. Immediately after recovering her right leg would shoot out, her foot shooting out to attempt to kick the man's sword out of his hand, while her own blade was held high out of the man's reach.
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He turned the sword so her boot connected with the sharp end of his blade and kicked her a second time.
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As the man turned his sword, the woman's boot made contact and she stomped, slamming the sword onto the ground. This also created a space between the arm which she used to hold the man's leg and her torso, space she would use to trap the man's other leg as he attempted to kick her again. Essentially, she was now gripping both of the man's legs while her left foot was firmed planted on the man's sword. She then began moving her sword forwards, probably in attempt to place the blade against the man's neck and signify victory, although he still had one free hand.
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His free fist connected hard with her stomach as he struggled fiercely. He pried against her one arm with both his legs as hard as he could in an attempt to free himself.
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The punch would bend her body so she was no longer standing straight, but instead of tugging back on the man's legs she allowed herself to be pulled closer towards him. As her sword was unobstructed, the woman was able to gently place her blade against the man's neck.
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As soon as he had realised he wasn't breaking free his hand moved to his belt. As soon as the sword touched his throat, he had a dagger touching her stomach.
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"Oh come on, who'd win in a fight, the person with a slit throat or the person with a stabbed stomach?" The woman asked rhetorically. She knew he knew the answer; or at least hoped. She was still standing, the man was pinned to the ground. Her blade was at his throat, his was at her stomach.
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"If I slit an artery, you'd bleed out within fifteen minutes." He pointed out, lowering his dagger.
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She rolled her eyes. "If I slit your throat, you'd be dead within ONE minute." She raised and sheathed her sword, and extended a hand to help the man up. "It was a good duel, though."
