It is not often that Barnabas finds himself hit in the royal jewels, so to speak, and while most would find themselves crumpled up over the painful collision with those sensitive unmentionables and that beefy elbow...he's not quite like most.
That isn't to say he isn't impacted at all, and ordinarily he'd have evaded such a shot--had it not been the result of an orc roll-scrambling between his legs in a desperate effort to dodge his blade. Not unlike a spooked animal in execution, it's a wonder Barnabas could stay on his feet despite it all. The elbow hitting him earning them a grunt of surprise and a sudden exhale besides, yet he remains standing.
If anything, it's kind of testament that something is wrong with Barnabas. A nut shot should take normal people down, but so too should being impaled, and yet he can weather both with about the same reaction. Poor Knife learning about the former first hand (elbow?) here...
Yet that's not all, because there's that magical sound of a bell that follows, and while the magic seems to make its mark, Barnabas glows an eerie red and blue as black wisps around him. His sword raising in the air as everything grows tense, the air thick. Energy crackles around them, and streaks of blue magic quickly slithers, flowing like a pulse from elsewhere in the arena, towards his sword to be absorbed. He turns to face Knife once more.
His expression halfway between annoyed and amused--an almost rueful fascination to his eyes. The glow about him dissipates as he fully faces him, his sword lowered at his side.]
Do you yield?
[The way he's looking at Knife suggests he hopes not.]
no subject
[Well. That was unexpected.
It is not often that Barnabas finds himself hit in the royal jewels, so to speak, and while most would find themselves crumpled up over the painful collision with those sensitive unmentionables and that beefy elbow...he's not quite like most.
That isn't to say he isn't impacted at all, and ordinarily he'd have evaded such a shot--had it not been the result of an orc roll-scrambling between his legs in a desperate effort to dodge his blade. Not unlike a spooked animal in execution, it's a wonder Barnabas could stay on his feet despite it all. The elbow hitting him earning them a grunt of surprise and a sudden exhale besides, yet he remains standing.
If anything, it's kind of testament that something is wrong with Barnabas. A nut shot should take normal people down, but so too should being impaled, and yet he can weather both with about the same reaction. Poor Knife learning about the former first hand (elbow?) here...
Yet that's not all, because there's that magical sound of a bell that follows, and while the magic seems to make its mark, Barnabas glows an eerie red and blue as black wisps around him. His sword raising in the air as everything grows tense, the air thick. Energy crackles around them, and streaks of blue magic quickly slithers, flowing like a pulse from elsewhere in the arena, towards his sword to be absorbed. He turns to face Knife once more.
His expression halfway between annoyed and amused--an almost rueful fascination to his eyes. The glow about him dissipates as he fully faces him, his sword lowered at his side.]
Do you yield?
[The way he's looking at Knife suggests he hopes not.]