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|*Dirk spins to the side, his sword arcing down at Jeremiah's fist. At the same time, he rotates his wrist breaking the hold that Jeremiah had on him and grabbing Jeremiah's wrist in return. He gives it a sharp tug, then a twist, trying to pull Jeremiah off balance ten wrench his arm behind his back.*
You are quick to make assumptions about those you don't know. I follow Shantal, she is known as the Protector where I come from. Most soldiers honor her. Personally, I couldn't care less who you follow.
|Jeremiah lifts his left hand, and creates a telekenetic sheild, blocking Dirk's kick.
"For a servant of Satan, you sure take a direct approach."
Jeremiah grabs Dirk's sword out of the air and throws it to the far side of the church. He then grabs Dirk's wrist and pulls Dirk towards himself, with a punch aimed at his groin.
|*Releasing his grip on the sword, Dirk leaps forward, launching a punch with his right hand at Jeremiah's jaw, as he draws his other sword with his left. Hooking his sword with his foot, he pulls it free of the table and propels it straight up into the air.*||FX
|Jeremiah raised his head, but did not look back at Dirk.
"One is never defenseless when the Lord is on their side."
He took one of the candles from the altar, and held it between his hands. He said one last prayer before blowing out the candle and setting it back down. He grasped his holy weapon and stood.
"I hate to dissapoint your commanders, but I still have much more work to do for mine."
He turned to face his opponent, keeping his eyes lowered. He reached down and kissed the cross around his neck. He raised his eyes and looked at DIrk.
"The blood of yet another man must rest on my hands."
|*The door slams shut. The sound of footsteps walking between the pews give away his presence. His stark white shoulder length hair in sharp contrast to his jet black combat armor, Dirk stepped up behind Jeremiah. He lifts the sword in his right hand, the blade then sweeps down to slam into the alter an inch from Jeremiah.*
Jeremiah, you made many enemies in your time, and my commanders demand your head. Still my code of honor keeps me from killing someone when they are defenseless. Stand and prepare to die.
|Jeremiah was in a church. The large muscle bound african was kneeling in front of the alter. HIs Scripture Stick was on the floor next to him. He was praying, and waiting for his next objective, when it walked through the door...||Dirk Ralthar
|Whoever accepts this can set the battlefield.|