The Fire
You have seen the coldness in his eyes, and know that he will not relent. Fighting for your life is your only chance to get past this alive.
You crouch and look for a weakness in his stance that will allow you to turn the tables. He is armed with a weapon, and you are not, but barehanded combatants have beaten armed opponents before.
Finally, you spot a tension in his arms that leaves his body unbalanced and vulnerable. You fake left, and you notice that he reacts a split second too late. You coil your body, ready to strike, like a cobra. When you see that he is still hypnotized by your feint, you dart toward him, grab his hands gripping the blade handle, pull his hands and the handle past your body, and deliver a straight kick to his hips, all in one swift motion, before he can react.
He crumples backward from the force of your kick. The blade handle slips out of your hands, but only for a brief moment, however, as you simultaneously side mount him while he is on his back and grab the handle using one hand. You quickly rain elbows, fists, open palms, and forearms down on his head and neck with your free arm. He offers little resistance in the face of such brutal force. Eventually, you choke the breath out of him with your bare hand as his legs twitch weakly and arms flail powerlessly. At long last, he drops his blade with a clang and his body stops moving. You stare at his chest for signs of breathing for a few minutes before releasing his throat.
You take a moment to catch your breath, and then check his body for something to loot. You only find his blade and cloak to be of any use to you. The cloak keeps you from feeling colder, though not by much.
There is nothing left to do except to keep walking toward the light.
You crouch and look for a weakness in his stance that will allow you to turn the tables. He is armed with a weapon, and you are not, but barehanded combatants have beaten armed opponents before.
Finally, you spot a tension in his arms that leaves his body unbalanced and vulnerable. You fake left, and you notice that he reacts a split second too late. You coil your body, ready to strike, like a cobra. When you see that he is still hypnotized by your feint, you dart toward him, grab his hands gripping the blade handle, pull his hands and the handle past your body, and deliver a straight kick to his hips, all in one swift motion, before he can react.
He crumples backward from the force of your kick. The blade handle slips out of your hands, but only for a brief moment, however, as you simultaneously side mount him while he is on his back and grab the handle using one hand. You quickly rain elbows, fists, open palms, and forearms down on his head and neck with your free arm. He offers little resistance in the face of such brutal force. Eventually, you choke the breath out of him with your bare hand as his legs twitch weakly and arms flail powerlessly. At long last, he drops his blade with a clang and his body stops moving. You stare at his chest for signs of breathing for a few minutes before releasing his throat.
You take a moment to catch your breath, and then check his body for something to loot. You only find his blade and cloak to be of any use to you. The cloak keeps you from feeling colder, though not by much.
There is nothing left to do except to keep walking toward the light.