Ramsus blinked at the sword for a moment. Why was Azerbarth giving this to him? Sure, he knew his way around a dagger decently, but a sword? That was something else altogether. Oh well, just because he had the thing now didn't mean that he actually had to use it. With that in mind, he slipped it in his belt, and continued on his way.
And stopped, when he heard footsteps. It shouldn't have been any surprise, really -- this was a prison break, after all -- but Ramsus stopped anyways. It ended up working to his advantage. Had he continued forward, he would have been caught by surprise by the squad of guards that poured out of a side hallway.
They looked different from the other guards, Ramsus mused to himself. They had a more confident posture, they looked to have higher grade weapons, and their armour had silver trim. It seemed that some of the higher grade troops were being sent to recapture the escapees.
The squad of troops split apart, as a figure came between the two columns. Someone in black, and apparently, smoking. And if the other troops looked more confident, he appeared downright arrogant. He lookeed to Azerbarth and Ramsus. It was only then that Ramsus realized that he and his companion had been split apart by the newcomers.
"Yes, Sir Rogan?"
"Keepe the Dragonian occupied. The runt isn't important, so I'll kill him, then join you."
"Yes, Sir Rogan."
With a few quick hand motions, the new guards, numbering roughly a dozen, rushed towards Azerbarth, leaving the Rogan and Ramsus facing each other, alone. Remaining motionless, Ramsus waited for his opponent to say something. After all, didn't his type always gloat before doing anything?
The Agreshillian was to be dissappointed, however, when Rogan, instead of bragging about how much better he was, simply dropped his cigarette, then smirked and rushed forward, kneeing him in the stomach, then grabbing his head and slamming him into the wall, throwing him to the ground, and kicking him in the ribs.
Ramsus shook his head and got to his feet. THAT was not expected. He would have to take this 'Rogan' more seriously from now on. With that, he charged towards his opponent, fully intent on punching him in the stomach. Failing that, the face would do nicely.
He was rewarded by having his first blow blocked, and getting a palm to the temple before he could get the second off. Ramsus staggered back.
"Amazing. I would think you'd be able to put up more of a fight than that." said Rogan, making his way towards the disoriented Crooklinite. "They really weren't joking when they said you were worthless."
Rogan made his way towards Ramsus. Along the way, he picked up a sword that had been dropped by one of the less living of the guards. By the time that Ramsus's eyes had cleared, he barely had any time to react to someone trying to skewer him through the stomach. He dived to the side, getting away with merely have his side sliced, with the unexpected followup of the flat of a blade to his back.
"For the love of..." Ramsus mumbled, grabbing on to the bars of an empty cell next to him, and hoisting himself back to his feet. "That's gettin' kinda old, y'know?"
"Hmph." responded Rogan, turning around to face him. "If you're getting tired of it, you can always just die. It'll make it easier for both of us."
He's...he's going to kill me...thought Ramsus to himself as his opponent approached. I'm bleeding, sore, and half-unconcious. I haven't gotten a single hit off! He's invincible! And now he has a sword! A sw--
Ramsus's thoughts cut out right there, as he found his hand almost instinctively reaching for the sword on his belt. He had completely forgotten that it was there.
"Oh, so now you're actually going to fight, now? A pity. You'll only humiliate yourself."
Ramsus wasn't particularly familiar with the usage of swords, having always used daggers for anything of this sort. In fact, he had only even held a sword a few times in his life. Regardless, as Rogan dove at him, Ramsus found himself not only blocking his blow, but swinging the pommel around, connecting it with Rogan's face.
Rogan stumbled backwards. He had been hit. HIT. This whelp, who he had been just been beating on flawlessly, had just managed to hit him. Rogan felt the sore spot on his head, his hand coming away with blood on it. Just how hard did this kid hit him? No matter, he could only get lucky so often.
He looked up from his musing just in time to see Ramsus leaping towards him. He managed to parry the Agreshillian's blow, and counterattacked, which to his surprise, was also proptly blocked. Another attack, and they locked blades.
"Humiliate, eh?" Said Ramsus. "I don't think I'm doin' too bad 'ere!"
"We'll soon see!" responded Rogan, throwing some extra weight onto the blade. "Today will see you dead!"
As if on cue, Ramsus headbutted his attacker, knocking him several steps backwards. Before Rogan could respond, Ramsus had already followed up the attack, plunging his blade through his shoulder, and pressing him against the wall. With a powerful lunge, the blade was wedged between two segments of the wall, sliding almost a foot inwards.
Ramsus stood back. Had he just...won? In a sword fight? As absurd as the idea was, it seemed that it had just happened. Too stunned to speak, Ramsus instead just turned to see how Azerbarth was doing with the guards.
"NO!" shouted Rogan, grimacing as he tried to pull out the sword, to no avail. "Get back here! We're not finished! If you leave, I will hunt you down! YOU HEAR ME?!"
Ramsus ignored him and continued down the hall, leaving his opponent pinned to the wall. As he walked away, he looked over his shoulder, and saw Rogan reaching for a cigarette with his good arm. It seemed that now he was waiting for someone else to pull the weapon out, so that he could move freely again.
Meanwhile, he continued on to check on Azer...