"If you dally, you die," Orym said, leaping back at his lunge was parried, circling in turn with Eadwulf as he moved. Orym had been training most of his life in set-ups just like this, dynamics meant to poise warrior against warrior to eek out weaknesses and enlighten you on just what you needed to work to improve. For Orym, it had almost always been his focus, his ability to read the battlefield as things were happening around him. Which more than explained why he was able to parry the first two blows, Eadwulf's longsword pinging off his shield and his blade in turn, only to take the third blow straight down the center, the blade slicing a clean score into the front of his breastplate.
"But precise," Orym said with a laugh as he slid backwards, lowering himself to the ground before he moved to propel himself forward, stepping into a sequence meant to feint and distract from his actual intended movement, sweeping down and around Eadwulf, moving right before coming up on his left to strike again. "Patience only pays off in calculated conflicts. Better to strike quick and hard."