[His opponent moves so fast all he has to save him from taking hits is instinct. The blade is larger and slower than he'd like but not by much thanks to his right arm. Sometimes it really frustrates him how much he relies on it.

He has to focus solely on parrying. A couple strikes get through. He resolves to never let this man put that sudden speed to his advantage. A fast opponent can wear a strong one down over time.]

Spear or staff. Nice charge, I didn't even catch it until almost too late.

[His stomach stings a little. Without practice armor and with real blades he'd say first blood to his opponent.]

My arm. Probably a given. It used to work like a sword.

[Felt only fair to say so.]

But I've held swords before. [This time when he slashes at him there's not as much power behind it. He reverses the strike immediately and with ease. Right to left, left to right. They're old familiar friends and even slower, he had turned his blade at the right time.]

Just nothing this heavy.