Ooooooo, well look at how polite this one is, hmm? She seems to fit right in line with you Ethel. Samuel chuckles, his large, ethereal frame floating just a little too close to Ethel's right ear to be not awkward. Course, that's how he does things. He's fully aware. Even (Especially) his own acolytes aren't safe from Sam's sense of humor. Course, they've all gotten used to it at this point.
Ethel brushes Samuel away from her ear, sighing softly before lighting up her face with a large grin. Her voice belts out with a resounding ring, full of vigor and conviction. "Well met fellow combatant! This is the kind of greeting I expect from everyone, though Im sure you'll believe me when I say most are not so honorable in their greetings. How could I answer with anything but a resounding yes? I would be delighted to duel with you." Ethel, after this, bows to her new rival in turn.
"My name is Ethelfleda Confodite. I accept your challenge, Miss Aldamain." Ethel states formally, to make it official. "I must say, if you have the confidence to challenge me outright like this, you must be very confident in your own skills. I very much look forward to seeing what you can do. And, if you'll give me a second to prepare, we can get started."
Ethel takes a deep breath and tenses her entire body, quaking with the exertion. A thick gas begins to seep out of her body's pores, drifting quickly to the ground, smashing the saffron with its density. The gas continues to fill the space around her, expanding to a radius of five feet from side to side, and above. Ethel stays clear in the center, with the gas swirling around her in a clockwise spiral. The saffron, and stench of, is now thoroughly grounded under the thicker than tar gas. Surprisingly enough, as thick as it is, it does not impede sight of Ethel, or bar one from hearing what she says. Gas continues to exude from her pores after the cloud stops expanding, filling her hands and covering her body. It gets denser and denser, condensing down into what appears to be a greenish steel fencing saber, kite shield, and thick armor. It also condenses around her prosthetic legs, equipping them with a covering of energy, working down into the joints and gears, allowing them to keep up with her once she really starts moving.
"Fully equipped! Thank you for your patience, Miss. It's a little hard for me to fight without any weaponry, I'm sure you can imagine. Plus, it helps for me legs to not rip themselves apart." She sheepishly looks at her legs. "Damn things have ruined fights. Not many people want to hit a cripple." She shrugs and hardens her face. "No matter! Somehow I feel you won't have that problem, so have at you!" Ethel readies herself, in traditional knightly fighting stance, though her training allows her to fight in many ways that aren't so traditional.
Samuel pisses off to about 10 feet away. He knows well enough to not interfere on this one.