The Unforgiving Minute
Thalion vs Mina
The two Dragon Watch swords clash again and again, multi-colored energy flashing with each strike. The combatants seem equally matched, though one is at a disadvantage, unused to fighting with just one weapon. Her second sword lies broken and shattered; the pommel was stuck in a tree trunk after she threw it at him and he ducked, the tip of the blade in a pile of fallen leaves, and the shattered remains of the rest strewn across the meadow as they had weaved among the tall grasses.
Still, Mina’s shortsword is doing just fine against Thalion’s massive falchion. She meets each great swing with a parry, a beat, or a twist of her body, attempting to riposte and sink her blade into his chest. He always manages to get his blade back in time, or turn the blade aside to merely tear his clothing, or scrape harmlessly off his armor. Well, mostly harmlessly. His mithril shirt has a dozen or more slices through it; the repair cost would be high.
Both blades hum with power, and Mina grunts in frustration as she suddenly has to dive, tuck, and roll from a spinning combination of strikes that would have cleaved through her torso seven times or more had she faced it a scant few weeks ago. She had never seen that maneuver before, against her or any other opponent. But her weapon had, and it guides her instincts, now.
She springs up, launching herself at her opponent amid the grass blades flying from where she stood a moment ago. She prays silently, hoping her instincts, and the sword, guide her correctly long enough.