The Brush Tiger of Derven Ch. 12-14

The irritation on his face is evident—he expected to win easily and now he is angry that she keeps avoiding a loss. He swings his sword low with one hand, throwing a punch with the other when she isn't protecting herself. His fist connects with her jaw, causing her to bite her lip. He grins at the sight of her blood—Mora just gets angrier. Instead of simply deflecting his attacks, she showers him with her own. The look on his face is priceless: it is almost as if he regrets making her mad.

While smacking away the blade of his sword she gets a few swift lashes in to his rib cage. The pain frustrates him and he starts to get clumsy in his haste. He tries to trip her and when he is focused on doing so, Mora brings the staff down hard on the hand holding his sword. He yelps in pain, dropping it. Having the upper hand, she pummels him a few good times. He defends himself and she doubts her hits hurt him much but that isn't what she is after. Slowly but surely she backs him towards the edge of the stage. By the time he realizes it, he's falling backwards and lands on his ass.

Mora flips forward, landing her knee into his chest and knocking him back. She quickly pins his elbows down with her toes and drops the staff across his throat. On either side of his head, she balances the weight of her body through her knees and onto the staff. Lucas, enraged at being pinned down, struggles against her but even though she's less than half his weight, each time tries to break free, she leans forward slightly to cut off his air supply by pressing the staff into his throat. When he stops struggling, Mora lets up some pressure, but makes sure that she keeps him incapacitated.

"Now, Lucas, the lesson I wish to teach you is this: instead of giving all that you have in the beginning, save your strength for an open window."

He looks angrily at her and starts to struggle again. Mora leans her weight forward, not enough to cause him to pass out but enough to make it difficult for him to continue swinging at her. She brushes some loose hair from her face and flashes him a nice smile, "My dear Lucas. If you knew even a fraction of what I do about wood, you would know that this staff is bamboo. While it isn't as impervious as steel, it is extremely pliable," she puts her finger to her lips like she is guessing, even though she knows that she is right "I'd wager that I could put the full weight of my body on this staff and it wouldn't snap. Your throat, however, would most likely be crushed..."

He stops struggling and closes his eyes. Through gritted teeth, he mutters something. Mora can't make it out, so she leans her weight back onto the balls of her feet, digging Lucas' elbows into the floorboards, "What was that?"

"I...yield..." Even though he is in a tremendous amount of pain Mora knows that it hurts him more to admit defeat to her.

She pats him on the chest before getting up, "That's a good boy," and offers him a hand. He ignores it, turning his back to her to limp off towards the table. She can't help but give him a swift lash in the ass with the staff; when he jumps and glares at her over his shoulder, she laughs musically at his expense.

Mora spins delicately on her heels and with one leap she lands on the stage. After she puts the staff back into the barrel, she returns to the table. She gives Rick a somewhat smug smile as she sits down.

"So she tried to kill Dell and slit her own throat," Daniel repeats himself. No one laughs this time.