Terror in the Deep: a Tale of PulchraGea

Don't Make Me Chase You.

The Skull grunt quickly traverses the boardwalk booths, scattering fruit and such as he jumps over, ducks under, and dodges around them. I feel like I'm too damn old for all this parkour, but I keep pace. I could kneecap him if I really wanted to stop him, but he's leading me into an ambush and I'm going to let him. He looks back as he passes through an archway, but not at me. That's why I expect the broadsword that would otherwise seemed to have come out of nowhere.
Let's face it, after you've taken on multiple of the Korokonara's most elite warriors at once a slow, telegraphed move like that is easily dodged. I duck under and sock him right in the solar plexus, then follow up with a knee strike to the jaw as he doubles over. Another one comes from off to the left, so I take that same knee strike and change the upward momentum into an outward spartan kick that knocks him back a couple of feet. Sometimes I really love Sirrenth's reduced gravity.
Now, my jogging buddy is still going, legs pumping hard, breathing ragged.
"If I have to say stop one more time..." I warn. The world ripples imperceptibly and the grunt somehow trips over his own foot. He hits the ground hard and scorpions a foot or so in the alley gravel.
Mr. Spartan Kick isn't done yet, though. He flips up and strikes a violent pose. His Narakh-jut is sloppy. His instructor should be ashamed. His strikes are fast, but he fails to thrust his arms outward like a whip so there's no power behind them. I redirect each strike easily, make him overextend, then thrust my palm forward and break his nose, causing blood to start flowing everywhere. Whoopsie.
I block another flurry of strikes and draw my Lyrican-made Gillette brightsword, which I can't call a lightsaber for legal reasons but is pretty much exactly that. The emerald blade crackles to life close enough to his neck to give him an instant tan. He knows I could kill him, knows by my face that he's been played, and now I'm tired of games.
"I'm going to ask only one time," I say, making it clear that despite my phrasing this is a demand. "Where is Sivarren?"

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