Riprose123
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Riprose strode lightly across the uneven, stepping lightly and leaving only the softest of indents on the sandy shore. As the sun beat down on him, threatening to add to his already considerable tan, he was gladdened to have left his thick coat behind before he came to this place. The weather here was much sunnier than the northern forests he was used to. It would be interesting, he decided, to try and fight on unfamiliar terrain. He gripped his bow tightly as he strode towards a tall, imposing figure covered in crystalline armor. The man, if such a behemoth could be called such, caught sight of the whip thin elf before him, and moved as well, closing the distance with heavy, powerful steps. For a moment, Riprose thought of piercing the man with an arrow, but couldn't make out a weakness in his heavy armor, and he knew he wasn't a good enough shot to hit the man's head. Before the long though, the man stopped a spear's jab away from him, booming out in a loud voice, worthy of a field marshall, "So, you are the one who shall do battle with me?" These words came with a rapid rotation of his heavy spear in the air. Riprose tensed, dropping his bow, not sure if the man intended to attack, or merely intimidate. His concerns were answered a spit second later as the man stabbed fiercely towards his neck. Riprose ducked quickly, the tip of the spear slipping into the empty air where just a second ago his head had sit comfortably. Riprose lept to the side deftly, undoing a buckle with quick hands, allowing his quiver to drop from his back. With his free sword hand he grasped the hilt potruding from over his shoulder, a light ringing illiciting the air as his blade shone brightly in the tropic sun. He drew it before his body in a salute to his opponent, before adopting a light dueling stance, ready to parry or redirect anything that came his way. "You have an impressive voice," said Riprose, rocking slightly on his feet, "the voice of a man used to leading charges. You're quick too. This will be fun."
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