@heavyhands / goose is holding just me at gunpoint
The way Kayn fights is mostly brutality, but he's not above adding a bit of flair as well. He left the scythe behind, though his mind aches like an addict's without it, begging to run back and hold it, and fights with his bare hands in the pit. He disarms his opponents with ferocious accuracy, ducking around attacks like he's mostly shadow already, waiting until he's close enough to strike. Then, occasionally, he brings his opponent down with their own weapon, though more often he'll toss it aside and force them into hand combat.
It's thrilling. He doesn't get to fight like this at the temple, not nearly as often as he'd like. Those fights are almost scripted, and designed to avoid injury. It's not the same as fighting to the death, either — it's longer. It's all too easy to kill someone nowadays, but to roust them so completely that they yield? That's a kind of power he's not used to. So when he's done, Kayn's exhilarated, eyes wide and hair sticking to his neck with sweat, chest splattered with blood and some more under his nails. He wants a bath and a bowl of hot ramen, but there's one more stop he has to make first.
Sett sits on his throne the same as always when Kayn arrives, still breathing hard from the exertion. His blood sings with the sheer joy of his brutal fights as he comes to lean confidently on the arm of the throne. "Well? I told you the might of the Order would not disappoint."
