Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by KOgaming
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The town was not far away. It was roughly an hour, maybe two since he had stepped off to meander about the beach. Maximilian had been in town for perhaps three days. There, he was taking leave; a well earned vacation he had paid for using the money he earned as a mercenary. Though it had been half a year since Maximilian had seen battle, a part of his heart and mind still dwelt on the events. After all, he had fought on the front lines and seen many scenes which he was certainly not prepared for. It was only natural he had felt a bit nostalgic.

"Ah. You'll get over it." he told himself. Though he wasn't in battle, he still carried his two weapons. His primary arm, a long sword almost as tall as its wielder, was carried in Maximilian's right hand, the blade rested gently against the clothes over his shoulder. Though he was not expecting battle, Maximilian was fully dressed in the same armor he had worn as a mercenary. He felt that he had grown used to it. It was comfortable to him.
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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Max would be able to see the black guy trying to hide behind a rock. Firstly because the rock was too small to cover the black dude's ass, and secondly because he kept stealing quick, obvious peeks over the top.

If Max humoured the black guy and got to within ten yards if the rock, Zande would leap out and wave his arms in a menacing fashion.


"Ey bwana! Gimme all ya goods! I wanna ya sword, I wanna ya drink, an' I wanna all ya white wimmin! Hurry for' I take off ya dreadnut!"
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by KOgaming
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"And ooga booga to you too." Maximilian retorted. Lazily, he tilted his head to the left side and allowed his sword to fall into his left hand, his shoulder pushing the blade off itself. He rotated his shoulders as if to warm up and kicked his legs out. The blade was held out in front of him, both hands on the main grip of the zweihander. Maximilian's face appeared more annoyed than anything else.

"You look a bit too dark for a saracen and your accent's all wrong. My. You must be a man of Afric! I've seen one or two as mercenaries but never of your... stature. Your armor has no style though- too many bits and pieces sticking out. Why bother wearing a mask? All your kind look alike anyways." the mercenary babbled.
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Zande's jaw fell open. He pointed limply at Max. He didn't even draw his own weapons.

"You is races!"

1x Laugh Laugh
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The mercenary looked back with a quizzical stare. "Frankly my dear, I'm not quite familiar with that word." he circled around the man, swinging his sword in a threatening manner, but without the intent to actually cut his foe.

"I can't hand you my sword. You don't look quite fit enough to carry it, especially not with that garish armor on. If you would be so kind, I can bring you back into the village. Perhaps we can share in a drink of grape?"
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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"I gon' be drinkin' dat wine out ya skull cap bandu."

Zande kept pace in front of Max, stalking just outside of his range. Instead of brandishing one or both of his imposing battle axes, he withdrew a big serrated hunting knife with a ten inch blade from his belt. It looked thick and heavy.

Either the headhunter was a true lunatic, or he actually thought he could take on a greatsword with a knife.
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Maximilian took a small step back, knowing full well the advantage in range he had. He turned his head to the side, putting down the visor of his helmet, hiding his face. "Very well then." Maximilian retorted, voice muffled behind his helmet. With a flick of his wrists, the sword was swung slight ways back lifted upward so that Maximilian's chest and face were still covered by his arms. He stepped just close enough so that the first half foot of the blade could make contact with his opponent.

Maximilian dropped the blade atop his opponent. "Have at you!" Maximilian declared just before his opponent could react to his blade. It was aimed toward his head with more intent to knock off Zande's mask than anything else.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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Zande stepped smartly back onto his left foot at the last moment, the tip slicing air before his sharp eyes. Might the greatsword be drawn back for a thrust? Surely such an endeavor would be doomed to failure against this particular foe. Were the blade to carry through with its arc and draw near the ground, Max would find that the agile headhunter would have propelled himself from his rear leg and shot forth alongside the greatsword (on Max's right) to close the distance in two rapid, scissoring strides, three should Max try to escape to either side or in reverse. The vicious knife would be ready to shed blood in Zande's right hand, held below the waist. As he rushed in, his muscular jaws worked up and down behind closed lips.

Few if any outlaws could have such prowess. Perhaps he was, by profession, not a taker of goods but of lives.
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Maximilian swung his sword in full arc, allowing the blade to fall to the ground, kicking up dust and sand as it dug itself into the beach. Zande seemed to have dodged- quicker than Maximilian had first anticipated- but nothing faster than what he had already dealt with. His visor allowed fairly limited vision, though he could tell that his assailant had dodged to the right. His neurons were firing quickly, instinct and muscle memory worked in tandem as Maximilian let go of the handle of his sword with his right hand. His right arm kicked out into a chicken wing shape. As Zande was coming close, Maximilian swung his elbow at Zande's chin in attempt to halt his animal biting motions.

Maximilian's left pulled the sword from the sand as he was moving his right arm to hit Zande. Maximilian shifted slightly both compensating for the weight on his left side and bracing for what he was certain would be Zande's lower jaw meeting Maximilian's elbow. In spite of being covered in two layers of clothing, there was still thick armor covering his arm which Maximilian was intent on using to bash his opponent, hopefully ending the fight.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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That chicken wing was a telegraph, and one that Zande wouldn't miss. Max, on the other hand, would very likely fail to see the result. Zande had bitten his tongue up good, hence the working jaws. Right as Max released his punch, a spray of blood would jettison from betwixt the headhunter's front teeth, aimed to spatter Max's face and make him either flinch, shut his eyes, or look away. Would Max expect the islander to go for his throat? A mistake, that would be. Zande would then dip down just below the strike, bending at both the waist and knees in a timely fashion so the arm overextended past his head, and were Max to have been distracted by the blood, he'd next find that the knife had been rammed deep into the crook of his right arm.

Regardless of that result, Zande's momentum would carry him thereafter towards Max's center mass, the lunatic swinging his left arm down low to try and hook it behind the knight's right leg (behind the knee) from the outside, simultaneously attempting to bowl the man over with a heavy right pauldron to the abdomen. A single leg takedown. If it succeeded, the wily headhunter would withdraw his knife (if the stab worked) and attempt to scurry and clamber into a full mount atop Max, his wiry, agile strength a force to be reckoned with on the ground.
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As the spray of blood came for him, Maximilian hadn't actually had to move much but his elbow, which was already in front of his opponent's face. It splattered over his sleeves, soaking them red. Maximilian leaned back on his sword, stabbing it into the sand and fully extended his right arm for a backhand slap aimed at Zande's cheek.
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Zande would instead piston his weapon up to gore the man's exposed right armpit as he reacted to the blood spray, potentially cutting open the axillary artery and keeping the blade driven deep as he tried to take the knight down, desiring to work it in as they struggled to cause further harm to tendon and muscle. This would be difficult to anticipate with Max's elbow blocking his own vision. The cannibal knew that each vulnerability harkened to another, and had no shortage of tricks. Zande would likely be deep within Max's guard and below his arm by then, and if Max were able to have both stopped the blood and saved his armpit, then when he launched his backhand Zande would tilt his head to his right so that his pauldron shielded the side of his mask, making it more likely that the gauntlet would bang against the top of the steel mask or the pauldron.

The takedown would have less gusto than before, as the shoulder barge would have been compromised and weakened by Zande's reaching across to stab the armpit, and though Max could try to keep himself upright with one arm holding his great sword, he'd be supporting nearly two-hundred pounds of dynamic force, taking into account the weight of Zande.
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Maximilian would not could not dodge but he will avoid that knife for it would not be good, in fact it takes his life. He does not like this dark skinned man, he does not like them here nor there, he does not like them anywhere. Max crouched and let the knife strike, tearing through cloth but not through steel. His armor kept him in the fight, so fight he will and fight for real. He jumped back and out of harm's way, this dark skinned man won't get him today. But pound against was Max against the man in garish armor, and Max's sword he pulled upon her. Fall back he did and far away, but fight again he would today. Max staggered about and regained his step. Defeated this man, he was not yet.

Maximilian will decide to take the charge but block the knife. He will fall back and let his weight carry him but regain composure in time to strike back.

Should his opponent attempt a charge, Maximilian would backflip onto his sword, wrap his legs around the opponent's body, and do a modified frankensteiner. His back, which cloth and armor covers in its entirety, is well protected. An attack on the front side of Maximilian's body, would only be used as leverage as Maximilian carries his opponent into the air to drop them on the ground below.

If his opponent were to attempt a ranged attack, he would use his zweihander as a paddle, getting on his knees to do a powerslide on the sand toward his opponent, head tilted back, leading with his codpiece. Should his opponent attempt a melee strike while he were down, Maximilian would push himself up on his feet to meet the strike with his codpiece, continuing to joust with it. Should his opponent try another spray attack i Maximilian's face, he would simply use his longsword to strike back.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Doc Doctor
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Zande did indeed continue the charge, and was astounded as his opponent whipped out that good old Saturday Night Smackdown shit. He had taken this foe for the practical, by the book sort. The knight's legs succeeded in securing Zande's neck! Any lesser man would have been launched head over heels into the next life, but Zande was a veteran grappler. Before he could be hauled off of his feet, he'd simultaneously lower his center of gravity and try to wrap both long arms about Max's midsection, intending to drop skidding to his knees with a wild, screaming battlecry, potentially driving Max's helm into the blade or flat of his own sword (assuming it collapsed horizontally upon the ground when forced forwards by Zande's momentum and Max's positioning) with a kneeling Texas piledriver. Even without the sword, the knight could easily suffer a broken neck from having both men's combined weight come crashing down onto his vertebrae. Sitting up at the last moment to try and swing the sword at Zande wouldn't work, for the headhunter would be leaning over steeply as he dropped to prevent his opponent from having enough room to avoid the punishing fall or to efficiently withdraw his blade out from beneath himself.

"AYEEEEEE!!"

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