Apelles Velvus
Apelles charged head-on into the fray, locking weapons with a lean, muscular Dunmer with a steel shortsword. He used his broadsword's longer reach to his advantage, but this Ashlander was fast, and good with his shortblade. He parried and deflected Appelles's blows with the grace of a young, yet experienced fighter. Apparently, Apelles had picked a fight with the best swordsman of the group.
The cravaners fought more competently than he had expected. Out of the corner of his eye, Apelles could see Dranas Heleran slicing straight through the torso of one of them. Not bad for a common drug dealer.
This fight, too, was an atypical one. In Apelles's experience, most swordfights were brutal, inelegant, and over very quickly - one fighter gained an advantage over another (usually brought about by an opponent's mistake) and capitalized on it. But the Ashlander was simply moving too fast to leave enough of an opening for Apelles to exploit. And the Ashlander was too busy defending himself from the long reach of Apelles's broadsword to make an attack. There was a time, perhaps, as a younger man, when he might have been fast enough to exploit the brief, fleeting seams in the Dunmer's defense. But the reality was, he wasn't - he would need to rely on his experience and cunning.
Then, the Dunmer finally began to tire - Apelles could see it in his face, and in his slightly slowed movements. Suddenly, he abandoned his defense and made a desperate lunge for the torso. Apelles, surprised, stepped back. The blade barely even managed to penetrate part of the dragonscale armor that he wore. It was but a surface wound - and he had left himself exposed. Apelles plunged his broadsword through the Dunmer's back into his vital organs.
Apelles looked around. The Ashlanders on the ground were all dead. He sheathed his sword, grabbed his bow, and turned to face the remaining archers.
This post has been edited by bbqplatypus: Sep 8 2010, 03:23 AM
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