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Waldemar, no less dramatically, slung his bare blade over his shoulder, preparing to strike with a sweeping motion, and raised his clenched left fist – a sign of complete readiness, but not yet the start of the fight. Alm remained at a distance, the others – at a polite striking distance. There would be time to cut him down later – such bravado deserved to be acknowledged. Nudity was hardly enough to intimidate someone who had witnessed the orgies of Lisliar's elite. Waldemar simply assessed the man's chest and shoulder width, trying to gauge who he was dealing with. “You dare to challenge me, as you can see. I will ask a more meaningful question: who are you, and why are you here?”
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza, e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers