[@Lucius Cypher] 
Azga's eyes widened as he was rushed in upon by the Arms slave. At the last possible moment, mustering up all the courage and coolness he could, he raised his palm shakily and whispered the word; [color=khaki]"No."[/color]

Upon the words, the shields attempting to hit him would bounce off as though two negative sides of a battery were struggling to touch; a slightly translucent purple aura appeared when the berserker tried to get close and was bounced away. Azga kept his palm up though his wide, golden eyes never left the Arms Slave. He swallowed as a visible bead of virtual sweat ran down his neck. With a nervous exhale, his other hand pushed his glasses up his nose and he closed his eyes. The golden witch doctor cleared his throat and took a deep breath. With all the bravado and dignity he still had left, he glared up at the arms slave, doing his best to look unruffled despite the fact that he was shaking in his boots.

[color=khaki]"I choose not to fight you...[i]yet.[/i]"[/color]