Gonna Stand My Ground!

"Dragoness?" I say with a smile, not letting Mayfair pull me away.

"Ist Thou insane? We have to run or..." The rest of the words die in her throat as with a few arcane words and gestures I call forth eleven mana 'drops' and use five of them to summon an impenetrable bubble of pure **** around us.

The Dragoness charges forward but I spin my left hand in a series of gestures and yank an American Flag racing glove off my belt and secure it to my right hand with my teeth. "Brizby, Marnoch, Fizbin-Charlock!" I exclaim as soon as my mouth is clear then, 'crossing' the six remaining drops and clenching my fist inside the glove; swing as though shadow boxing with the Dragoness. My shocked companions face goes from surprised confusion to slack jawed amazement as the Dragoness doubles over in pain with the wind knocked out of her: exactly as if she ran full tilt into a gigantic sucker-punch by an enormous invisible fist...

"Now, remind me why I ought to run, again?" I smirk at the young Orcish maiden.