Aspel Cassul: When in doubt, Aspel! (weaponry) wrote in emillion,
Maspel (joint tag)/Ari/Lavitz VS Dreadguard
When Aspel stumbled back, Mag turned to her at once, eyes scanning her for injuries. She seemed mostly unharmed―her mythril armor was dented in a few places, but nowhere near the amount of damage she tended to accumulate during fights lately. Aspel shook her head and met Mag’s eye and Mag smiled, a fleeting instant of reassurance before the blank look in Aspel’s eyes turned to rage.
Due to the space between their positions - Aspel had been trying to distract the beast, to draw its attention away from the group, and had offset herself from the lot of them not long before - there was some distance between them. It wasn’t enough to buy much time, but enough to make her shift in stance, her redirection of focus obvious, especially considering a step towards Mag, and a step towards the monster would her in two completely different directions.
Unfortunately for her team, the smith lunged towards her friend instead, hands firmly on the handle of the hammer to put the appropriate direction, and power behind it with a roar. This was all wrong, things had ended up incorrect, why had she been fighting the DreadGuard, it was wrong, she was wrong, she couldn’t be wrong again, she couldn’t make this mistake like so many before, she couldn’t….
Had Mag waited a fraction of a second to duck, she would have had no time to swear at the whoosh of the sledgehammer slamming through the space her head had recently occupied.
“She’s Confused, Ari!” Mag shouted, running into Aspel’s personal space where the hammer couldn’t get her. Before Aspel’s hands could drop the handle and go to the shotgun strapped to her back, Mag pushed her friend back and hooked a leg around hers, trying to knock her down before she could turn on the others.
“Confused as a Dragoon turned Knight!” Aspel barked the words as an attempt to provoke Mag, wanting the other woman’s rage turned on her, focused on her, and the smith’s stance locked down into Steelguard. A step back with one leg staggered her positioning to help protect herself from the push of the other woman’s weight.
Mag let out a frustrated groan. “I’d have been okay with you calling me ugly,” she muttered, “but that is low.” Because Aspel was right―but it was a conversation they hadn’t had since their arrival in the city, and now was the worst time to revisit it.
She had come to keep Aspel from getting hurt, and she would not be the one doing the damage―but she had to hold out and keep the Sentinel engaged before Aspel decided to switch to a different target. Mag buried her spear in the ground and unholstered her shotgun, but instead of shooting she swung. Aspel parried, so the butt of the gun didn’t slam against her helmet as hard as it almost had―but Mag had been counting on that. It was why she had chosen to attack like this. She wouldn’t knock Aspel out, but perhaps it would be enough to disorient (or reorient) her.