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"So personally piss off ya p***y."

Not exactly a tongue-twister, but still an attempt at an insult. Obviously, Dorkuto needed to works on his insults better. Since Maximos was seemingly gonna stand there ready for whatever the herm was gonna throw at him, he stopped at near melee range ( he would have to stretch out his scythe as far as possible to touch Maximos' body ) and the attack came from his mouth. In the form of spit, coming at Maximos' face. Was Dorkuto really treating this seriously?

Ahh.

His opponent stopped "charging" and began talking. Clearly the sort of individual quick to threaten a swing, but not nearly as quick to launch one. He was likely afraid. A shame.

It didnt matter. Maximos didnt listen to his words, nor give did he give him a chance to finish them. Instead he stomped forward, thrusting his right arm forth, turning the gesture of his sword into a stern thrust for his targets midsection. It clearly aimed to run the man through, before any spit exited or landed anywhere.

---

Only the positioning this time, would not give the elf nearly the opportunity this move gave him the last time. No, Maximos' body had impacted Ruuvan's foot, but his feet never left the ground. His wrists were grabbed, and while those pulled him downwards, unlike the last time Maximos had the time, and footing to cement himself.

Namely, by shoving his right foot forward onto the elf below him, and pulling back, allowing him to even himself out, unless of course Ruuvan released his wrists which would cause an entirely different kind of situation.

Either way, effectively breaking the centrifugal force needed for the attempted throw. Maximos would roll both of his wrists, either breaking the grasps or slicing the holding hands, and then simply stand in place. Standing on his opponent looking straight down and into his green eyes.

Afraid? No. Quick to treaten, then quick to back off? No. Just plain not right in his head. As partially indicated upon sight of his actions by Maximos upon arrival.

As for the thrust? There would be a slight problem with that. A clang of metal versus metal would be heard upon the sword hitting the staff portion of the scythe. Given the striking-manner of the thrust, the durability of the long sword would not be questioned yet. It wasn't even a quarter of a second before the collision the staff-end meeting the sword as to the staff being held in the previous position. (( Wasn't sure how to word this right. ))

For the herm would shift the non-bladed end downward a bit to account for vertical positioning while swinging that end towards the center ( while the bladed-portion would move to Dorkuto's right to accomodate for change in position and keep the 'halfway point of the staff' near his body with foot moving behind it him a bit. ) to have the endpoint end its path in between the two combatants. There would be a good opportunity to strike from here depending upon the reaction.

As for the sword, this strike was meant to call into question Maximos' grip on it. The staff-portion would hit the blade-portion of the sword and attempt to knock it out of Maximos' hand. If the staff-portion was a bit longer, then he would have gone for the hand itself for the disarm, but oh well. Given the thrusting was still happening, if it the defense-attack was successful the sword would go flying east-southeastish if Dorkuto was facing north.

Ruuvan's flip was halted, his right leg held in place as the short blade came for his ankle. His left foot was coming up; he swung it up faster, since he had Maximos' grip as a solid base, and kicked the short blade out of the way before it could stab his ankle. As his left foot cleared the dagger, he stopped it and stamped down (stamping horizontally) aiming for the shadow's exposed stomach - Max had one hand holding his foot and the other holding the dagger.

It had enough force, and hopefully a modicum of a surprise attack perhaps, to push Max back and finally allow Ruuvan to get back onto his feet.

And as his foot was twisted, Ruuvan went with it. Flipping to mirror his previous position, now facing the floor as opposed to the sky, with his right leg still held. His left was still free, of course, and as he went with the twist his free leg swung around too, coming around and up heel first. His target was Maximos' jaw.

The hold was painful, and spinning with Maximos' twist was all that stopped his ankle from breaking, but he was still capable of fighting.

Being halfway through a flip definitely didn't give one the ability to dodge, but he could at least soften the blow.

Ruuvan knew he was going to be kicked, and he was ready for that pain. Of course letting Max kick without some buffering would lead to a couple of broken ribs no doubt. Moments before the kick came he lifted his left hand off the ground, leaning slightly on his right to maintain the center of balance, and placed his bracer in the path of the kick.

Punt

Ruuvan lifted off the ground, pain burning across his chest and forearm. Still, the lift was all he really needed to be able to complete his flip. His right hand was still planted next to the bow and snatched it up as he left the ground, his body twisting to land on his feet with his back facing Maximos. It was easy enough to turn around and face his adversary again.

As Max spoke, Ruuvan's hand was working around the base of his bow where the string had been cut earlier. Plant fibres turned into a bowstring, once a living organism. A brief channel of light magic, a slight glow around his hand on the bow, and the string twined itself back together around the break in an instant. He would not attack just yet, the two seemed to be having a pause.
"Nor you, my friend." Ruu smiled briefly and bowed his head a fraction.
This was combat, more like a spar, but the two of them were still friends.

Did Ruuvan just heal his bow? It was a living thing. But he had actually taken advantage of that. A gloved left hand rose to pull down on the high collar covering Maximos' face.

Your learning.

Max said with a grin. Ruuvan had tried to assault him in melee with the weapon. Now he had healed it, and drawn it over his two swords. This was interesting, this was new.

The Shadow slid his right foot back, his left foot leading. He slid the short sword back in its sheath, and from his back drew the black longsword that was Ankokuko. Dagger in his left held in reverse, long sword in his right held ordinary.

He made a waving motion with the left.

Show me.

---

(( No problem, I fully understand. biggrin ))

Mhmm.

He said, as his foot hit the ground and cemented his stance. He'd stolen ground, his opponent retreating a step as he advanced his foot. This told him worlds about what and who he was fighting, and how the creature fought. But his form did not follow his foot. He stood as such, his leg somewhat forward, his body as it was.

It was the oddest thing. Even before the defense was fully executed, Maximos was pulling back his sword, and his arm simply halted in place and moved back to adjust his glasses up the bridge of his nose. This avoided a cut, strangely while it seemed his sword could simply have avoided any damage and followed through with the motion again, it did not. Maximos directly turned it to meet his opponents, blade edge for blade edge and put way more force than necessary into a push back. One bound to fail as his opponent had all the leverage.

There was a scraping sound and the scythe cut clean through the black sword about a foot up from the hilt. Maximos seemed entirely unsurprised.

I understand.

His left hand fell at his side. His right dropped his broken sword, it unraveled into black mist before hitting the ground. At which point his right hand slipped back into his pocket.

I see now. Thats an adamantine weapon.

He said calmly, expecting jibberish in return. Assuming of course his opponent continued his trend of non-attack. He was the son of a blacksmith, if anyone knew the sound different metals make against each other, Max did. And all young adventurers by adamantine. They usually died from relying on it too heavily as well. The confidence that comes with cutting through anything, and resisting anything was its own flaws. Nothing was perfect.

Max had a lax look on his face. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a black stone, a Sword Stone, to simply summon another sword. But shook his head, and slipped it back. Instead, he drew from behind him the dagger that sat at his back. Its handle was black leading up into a clear, and yes, most definitely glass 1ft long blade. Of course not just any glass, but that didnt matter.

This should be enough.

He said non-chalantly, followed by.

Do you need me to start for you again?

Truth be told, agile as he was, he likely would have said and did all he did even if swung on, only while making simple back steps and evasive leans. Such defense is easy when you have a flowing landscape to maneuver in, and your focus is not on attack, but something as simple as speech, or staying out of your opponents swing radius or path.