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more . In the brief seconds Rezkin had taken to
assess the situation, Rezkin’s attackers had launched several daggers and bolts
at him, all of which were ingloriously caught by his makeshift shield. Rezkin
scowled. These men should be better than this. It was such a waste of
long-ranged weaponry to launch it without a sure shot at the target. Everyone
could see he was hidden. The young man scanned the faces of the strikers he
faced and realized with disbelief that these men were terrified. They had all
failed Rule 37 – Separate from one’s emotions . Now, he understood.
They were unable to fight like big-men because they were breaking the Rules .
The solution was simple, then. He had simply to follow the Rules , and he
should prevail.
    With grim determination, he released his grip on his shield.
The man teetered before him for a fraction of a moment before falling to the
ground. It was just enough time for Rezkin to launch a series of his own
attacks against the strikers. He managed to catch one man in the throat and
another in the eye with his throwing knives. A third received a knife in the
chest, but the man was not yet ready to give. Rezkin ignored him for the moment
and took out the one to his left while he was still surprised. The striker
attacked Rezkin with a sword, while Rezkin’s hands were empty. After a brief
flurry of strikes and blows, Rezkin prevailed. He managed to get inside the
man’s guard to punch the striker in the throat. Rezkin reached up and jerked
the man’s head around snapping his neck.
    From his right, the monster of a man with the knife
protruding from his chest was bearing down on Rezkin. Without even looking in
his direction, Rezkin lurched to the side. The young warrior spun around,
grabbed the knife embedded in the striker’s chest, drew it out with a slurch ,
and slashed across the man’s throat. Blood surged forward, some of it spraying
across Rezkin’s face, the rest pouring down the man’s chest like a crimson
waterfall.
    Rezkin shoved the burly man out of the way. He drew his
longsword with his right hand and his shortsword with his left before he dove
into the group of three strikers who were attempting to plan an organized
attack against him while he had been preoccupied with the others. The strikers
leapt back in surprise. Two of the strikers, Adona and Gant, were Swordmasters.
The third was renowned for developing a method of fighting with daggers that was
unmatched – except by Rezkin, of course.
    As a matter of his training, he had been required to
practice and learn until he could best each of these men regularly. At times,
he would be required to fight multiple strikers, and he was usually successful,
although he did at times take injuries. None of those previous fights were to
the death, though. As he gained Skills , the men were ordered not to pull
their strikes. If they could score an injury or even kill him, then they
should. Rezkin had never been trying to kill any of these men, though. It
turned out not to be as difficult as he thought it would be.
    Once Rezkin’s full Skills were unleashed, he seemed
unstoppable. He no longer had to worry about accidentally killing one of
his training partners. Still, it was not his normal style in training to
actually land a mortal blow to any of these men. Blades sliced through the air
with deafening clashes. Rezkin met each strike and slash when necessary and
dodged others. One opponent sliced high, while another struck low. When one
attempted to back away to gain room for a ranged attack, Rezkin would pull him
back into the fray or dance his partners around so they stayed between him and
the third assailant at all times.
    Like maneuvering playing pieces on the Queen’s Gambit board,
Rezkin was finally able to place his opponents exactly where he wanted them.
With a little encouragement from his own strikes, he got each of them to strike
at him in just the right way. In one quick motion he spun, lashing both blades
outward,