Accept His Challenge

I stand and accept the challenge. Bets are made, the audience seems to look favorably to the Orc before me. Typical, I take out my sword, and he raises his halberd. Stepping in a circular motion around the ring facing one another, our steps draw closer, intensity building as the crowd urges the fight to begin.

The brute takes his axe and makes the first move, sweeping it over my head as I duck beneath it, spinning my blade over it, slamming down on it's head and unbalancing the giant in a forward stumble, carrying the rebound of my blade from the axe to raise it for a strike over his shoulder. Cutting down through the fabric and into his skin, I slide the blade through flesh and step away from a backhanded fist.

Undaunted by my counterattack, he quickly plants his foot down, steadying himself with his weapon hand and getting ready to charge, all too open for a fatal strike, but if I step back I will step out of the ring. Seeing as his arms already block both sides, there is little I can do but wrestle or forfeit.