The kick landed, nailing him in the forehead and shoving him across the floor. Momentarily concussed, Caim grabbed his forehead and struggled to his feet, glaring at Farfarello out of his one good eye. He may have been injured, but he could hear every word said.
He had a sword. His skills with a sword had always been his pride, his strength, the one thing that kept him alive and proud. If he had something now, Farfarello wouldn't have stood a chance. Not for half a minute.
Caim bared his teeth and considered whether or not to throw himself at Farfarello again. Then again, this man was vicious; fighting him head-on had proved problematic. Escaping was an option, but Caim refused to run ... yet.
The chair ...
Caim darted to the side and snatched up the chair that Farfarello had previously hurled at his own head and threw it, going for the desk he was closest to. He would use it as a weapon, or possibly a barrier - whichever one became more useful.
Re: M40 v2.0
He had a sword. His skills with a sword had always been his pride, his strength, the one thing that kept him alive and proud. If he had something now, Farfarello wouldn't have stood a chance. Not for half a minute.
Caim bared his teeth and considered whether or not to throw himself at Farfarello again. Then again, this man was vicious; fighting him head-on had proved problematic. Escaping was an option, but Caim refused to run ... yet.
The chair ...
Caim darted to the side and snatched up the chair that Farfarello had previously hurled at his own head and threw it, going for the desk he was closest to. He would use it as a weapon, or possibly a barrier - whichever one became more useful.