Catch his Wrist

With the trained precision of a Tuelian hunter you catch his small wrist before he manages to sink the dagger in to your flesh. You squeeze his wrist hard before he drops his knife with a distressed yip. With you other hand you make a fist and you land a solid hit in the middle of his solar plexus. The elf doubles over and falls to his knees.

"Get it over with tulerian swine" he says in a condesing tone.

"Swine, I thought I was a savage brute?" You look over with a look of disgust at the pitiful creature in front of you. "You know the prize of failure elf, but I'm in a merciful mood tonight so I'm gonna let you chose how you are gonna humiliate yourself "

He rises up on his knees in front of you, bites his plump lip thinking it over. His cute forehead filled with furrows.

With a softer voice then before he says: "I.. I.. don't have anything to give you."