“A satyr is a demon and if we don’t destroy them, they will destroy us,” she remarked, speaking in a sarcastically slowly manner, as if to insinuate that he needed it to be spelled out in a simple manner.
The huntress unsheathed the blade she had detached from the sentinel’s moonglaive. In her other hand, she held her dagger, with the blade pointed back. She brushed off her quiver and long cloak, revealing the sleeveless tan colored leather jerkin she wore.
Izdazi continued to appraise her target as she tried to think up some plan for escaping this situation. He wasn’t going to let her go and had already proven himself much faster then she had originally expected.
He was a trained fighter. She was not. Running wasn’t an option and neither was her default method of attack. If she had to fight on his terms, then to survive this, she’d have to do something unexpected.
Let’s see how well you handle a little troll, you cretin. Her eyes remained locked on his as she turned and started circling opposite of what she had been doing. He didn’t appear armed, but she wasn’t going to fall for his tricks. Elune only knew what else he had in his belt. And his glaives hadn't been forgotten.
She suddenly spun the sword and began racing towards him. Her footfalls were nearly silent and there were no exclamations from her as she aimed the sword for his chest. At the last moment, however, she feinted left, spun around and fell back to her balled fists. Her left foot shot out and connected with the joint between his right arm and shoulder.
With a quiet prayer, Izdazi hoped the strike would be enough dislocate or at the least, temporarily disable his right arm. Still, not choosing to press her luck, she jumped back to her feet, skipped on them a moment, while swiping her sword for his neck.
During her time in Booty Bay, Izdazi had watched trolls practicing this strange form of martial arts. As best as she could tell, the hands and weapons were used as a form of distraction, but the real attack came from kicks. It was a form of fighting based on decoy and deception; something the huntress could appreciate. Weapons were used in earnest once an unchallenged assault could be made.
Izdazi understood that she wasn’t terribly good at this form of fighting. Most of it had been learned by surreptitiously watching those practicing it and then mimicking. No troll in their right mind would ever allow an elf to learn their fighting techniques, much less train with them. They may work civilly together, but outside of their employers’ jurisdiction, rivalries and hatreds were as healthy as ever.
As expected, he easily dodged her attempt at his neck, but in doing so, offered an opening for her to kick at the back of left leg, which forced him onto a knee. She rotated behind him and touched the point of her sword against the front of his neck. He would no doubt feel the cool steel of her dagger against the back.
“I think you’re the one confused, old man,” the huntress said in a voice that just barely made it to his ear and contrasted sharply with the vigorous way they had just fought. She pressed the blade harder against his skin. “Maybe a flight over Astranaar will remind you whose side you should be. We’re losing this conflict and inviting betrayal by trusting these so-called turned satyrs. Sooner then later, they will discard the façade of their former lives and show their true nature. Sundar is too heartbroken to see that his brother, along with all the rest, is a threat to us; it's subversion from within. Can't you see?"
It had taken all of Niashado's self control to not rush up to Jaou's aid when he was being 'reprimanded,' by Councilor Lorren. She absolutely hated seeing him suffer, which was only more exasperated with the knowledge of what was coming up for her.
The grip the vindicator escort had on her arm tightened, as if he could sense to turmoil surging through her mind. But even worse then that, was the sudden doubt of Jaou that had crept into the darkest recesses of her mind. What if they were right?
Oh, the other elves had nothing but high praise for him, but what if it was all a cover? What if he...
NO! Jaou is as you remember. He is being unfairly tried, she declared mentally, while at the same time feeling a sickening budding in her heart.
Again, the 'witness' said more lies about Jaou and the ranger satyr tried to defend it only to be assaulted by the vindicator behind him at Lorren's command. Niashado finally had to turn away from the flashes of golden holy magic, but his cries echoed painfully in her ears.
Why was his helary being so useless? She would have fought tooth and nail for Jaou, if it hadn't been for 'his' request.