Post by thormundsson on Sept 19, 2011 22:54:56 GMT -5
Tomas' was still wrecking his head over how badly the situation could go when he was jumped. The man had stealthily made his way at the side of the deck, using the chaos that had consumed the two ships and was obviously trying to strike at the one at the helm. It somewhat concerned Tomas that no other member of the crew had noticed the man making his way over to him. He had to admit that with the chaos, weather and fighting it was all to possible that nobody noticed it.
The man's strike was aimed square at Tomas' right shoulder and much to his terror he found himself grabbing at his massive weapon and finding nothing but air. Of course he had left it down below. He had been running the math and the chances of meeting another ship on Reverse Mountain were so astronomically small that he had decided to lessen his load. With the man's blade now striking at him from all directions he had little choice but to duck and weave and try and figure out how to salvage this.
He contemplated grabbing an improvised weapon from around but he new immediately that any such attempts would leave him with a limb missing. The man's blade was a solid 6 inches of steel across and judging by the fleeting glance he had gotten at it as it struck near his head and into the railing, it was very very very sharp.
His second thought turned to trying to grapple the man but he knew with cold certainty that he himself was not a strong man, hard as that was to admit for him, and that if the other man possessed even a sliver of power that could match his he'd be dead within the minute. There was also the fact that the man's training might far exceed him when it came to brawling. Yet again Tomas cursed himself for not training in that particular field. It seemed that his Achilles heel was not preparing for the unlikely things, which in this sea seem to occur more than any regular, calculable instances.
Then he had an idea, though it would depend entirely on his own stamina.....
The man's strike was aimed square at Tomas' right shoulder and much to his terror he found himself grabbing at his massive weapon and finding nothing but air. Of course he had left it down below. He had been running the math and the chances of meeting another ship on Reverse Mountain were so astronomically small that he had decided to lessen his load. With the man's blade now striking at him from all directions he had little choice but to duck and weave and try and figure out how to salvage this.
He contemplated grabbing an improvised weapon from around but he new immediately that any such attempts would leave him with a limb missing. The man's blade was a solid 6 inches of steel across and judging by the fleeting glance he had gotten at it as it struck near his head and into the railing, it was very very very sharp.
His second thought turned to trying to grapple the man but he knew with cold certainty that he himself was not a strong man, hard as that was to admit for him, and that if the other man possessed even a sliver of power that could match his he'd be dead within the minute. There was also the fact that the man's training might far exceed him when it came to brawling. Yet again Tomas cursed himself for not training in that particular field. It seemed that his Achilles heel was not preparing for the unlikely things, which in this sea seem to occur more than any regular, calculable instances.
Then he had an idea, though it would depend entirely on his own stamina.....