Tristitia takes a deep breath and stretches to limber up her body. She swiftly pulls her hair back and ties it tightly with a crimson ribbon.

You have emoted: Vakvyr lets his tower shield drop to the ground and lean against his leg while he takes a moment to stretch and flex his arm. He narrows his eyes at Tristitia. "That ribbon..."

Tristitia grins wryly and nods before raising her hood over her head. "Is exactly what you think it is," she finishes for you.

You have emoted: A new wave of vigour washing over his form, Vakvyr grunts and hefts his tower shield back up, securing it in place before inspecting his sword. He nods, satisfied, and looks toward Tristitia.

"Shall we begin?" asks Tristitia, but she doesn't linger for a reply. She immediately falls back into the shadow of a copse of trees and springs out of sight.

You have emoted: Vakvyr snorts once in amusement and raises his tower shield up. "Begin, right." He glances cautiously about before adding, "Usually a fight starts with an attack."

Tristitia delivers on the expectation, letting slip a vine noose from her place on an overhanging branch. "Then I suppose I'm starting the fight!" If successful, the noose closes about your neck and lifts him to be strangled.

You have emoted: As the noose tightens around Vakvyr's neck, he struggles to breathe, starting to turn red and flailing some as he tries to get his heavy form to move. Just when his head looks like it's going to explode, he wildly swings his sword above him and cuts the vine noose. Feet back on the ground and no longer asphyxiated, he breathes in and out hard before growling and looking to the trees.

Unable to keep from a delighted laughter at pulling off the attack, Tristitia makes her position even more obvious. She reaches over her shoulder as though expecting something there. "Damnit, Daeir reminded me..." She shakes her head and simply leaps from the branches, intending to topple over you and drive a dirk into your back.

You have emoted: Vakvyr turns and raises his tower shield in an attempt to intercept Tristitia, thrusting the flat surface toward her and then to the side as if swatting away a fly.

Tristitia expected at least the resistance of an armoured body and thus manages to avoid injury even as she is deflected. She rolls until she is in a crouching position, her black cloak now covered with dirt and leaves.

You have emoted: Wasting no time, Vakvyr rushes toward Tristitia with the large tower shield in front of him, intending to use it as a battering ram. "Ground level now. My level!"

"What the--?!" Tristitia dodges to the side, startled by this form of attack. As she turns to follow your movements, she also brings her lash around reflexively, intending to scourge you with the strike.

You have emoted: Vakvyr pulls back and shoves his front foot's heel into the ground to force himself to a stop. His movement relatively sluggish to Tristitia's nimbleness, he is unable to do anything but catch the lash on the side with a grimace. He shifts to put his shield in front of him again, but instead of rushing he angles his shield toward Tristitia's shins and strikes quickly, intending to knock her feet out from under her.

Arm already pulling back for a second strike, Tristitia fails to adapt quickly to a strike aimed at what is an unexpected angle. She stumbles and it ruins her attack. "Hey, stop that!" she says, landing a knee on the ground. She already begins to pick herself up from the ground when she challenges, "Fight me for real, Vakvyr Terias!"

You have emoted: Vakvyr seems taken aback, indignantly defending himself verbally. "Hey, I AM fighting! It's a lot easier to stab you when you're lying on the ground." As if to emphasize his point, he attempts the same maneuver, but this time combos it with his sword, attempting to impale Tristitia afterward.

Tristitia isn't about to be taken in by the same vector of motion twice. your moment of verbal self defence allows her just enough time to retreat to where she can manage to dodge the thrust. "Careful with that knife," she teases while sending a lash forward to attempt to force you to keep your distance.

You have emoted: Vakvyr swats the lash aside with his shield and then crouches down behind it. He sets his sword down beside him and from the rift quickly pulls a few inks, wasting no time in using them to sketch out a series of lightning bolts on the ground. No sooner than the sketch is complete does the ground beneath the two begin to rumble violently, similar to an earthquake. Vakvyr retrieves his sword with ease and moves in to engage Tristitia, seemingly having no issue with the tumultuous ground himself.

"What are you doing back--?" Tristitia cries out in surprise as she immediately loses her footing. While trying to break her fall, she loses hold of her lash, leaving only the dirk remaining in her grip.

(Clan): Tristitia says, "Take that, king six-lines."
T_T

You have emoted: Vakvyr closes the remaining distance easily and quickly attempts to combo a shield attack to Tristitia's center to temporarily incapacitate and then a quick slice toward the nearest leg. "You're not going to fall over, are you?" he jeers as he attacks.

Tristitia does precisely that and falls over even as you speaks, having been easily thrown off further by the shield slam. As her luck would have it, she also takes the deep cut to the leg on her way to the ground, blood immediately filling the wound. She utters a profane curse as she hits the ground, causing her rattlesnake to angrily slither out of her pack.

You have emoted: Vakvyr hesitates on his followup when the snake comes into view. He growls and looks between it and Tristitia, as if trying to decide who to attack. His indecision costs him his advantage though as the ground ceases its rumbling and the runes etched on the ground fade away. He growls and mutters something about snakes and mothers.

The rattlesnake advances with lethal intent as Tristitia recovers herself and her dropped weapon. There is a limp in her step and flecks of blood litter the ground as she attempts to round on you and place you between herself and her rattlesnake.

You have emoted: Vakvyr catches on to his increasingly precarious positioning and opts to launch himself at the snake, hoping to dispose of it via swift decapitation and return his focus to Tristitia as soon as possible.

Tristitia shouts a loud, "NO!" and immediately attempts to lunge on to you as you presses an attack on the snake, hoping to drive a dirk behind your shoulder. The snake strikes simultaneously, delivering a dose of delphinium before it suffers enough injury to fall limply to the ground, possibly dead.

You have emoted: Vakvyr flinches at Tristitia's shout and fails to commit to his attack and consequently his defense. In short order, he is both stabbed and bitten. He crumples to the ground and cries out in pain, but is almost immediately silenced as the delphinium takes effect, pulling the man down into a deep sleep.

Tristitia begins to frantically bind your sleeping form, her eyes worriedly flicking over to the snake, which had taken a clumsy, but debilitating blow. With what little time she has, she does her best to secure you, angrily demanding "yield!" as soon as the man regains consciousness.

You have emoted: Vakvyr groans in pain as he wakes and then flinches again at Tristitia's demand. He growls angrily and starts to writhe, but the movement agitates the wound in his back and he ceases. "Gods damn it! No!"

Tristitia leans wearily upon you, though her weight is relatively light compared to the armoured man. Still, she poises her dirk at the back of your neck and insists. "I've already beat you, Sentry Terias. Yield."

You have emoted: Vakvyr winces in pain again as the back wound reminds him of its existence, and he turns his head to try to glare at Tristitia. "Hmph. I'm not done yet. I just need...uhhh...gods damn it OW..."

Tristitia grins despite her own pain. "Say it," she demands, pressing the tip of the dirk to the back of your neck for emphasis.

You have emoted: On feeling the tip of the dirk pressed against his neck, Vakvyr grits his teeth and closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the arduous task ahead. "Fine. Fine! Gods damn it fine! I yield. There. Now get off me!"

Tristitia laughs victoriously and instead uses the dirk to cut you free of the rope ties. She stands up, favouring the leg that is not wounded as she limps over to where her snake lay in the overgrown weeds.