Tycondrius lunged forward with a thrust, then cut upwards as Zehr dodged.
Zehr swayed sidewards, moving as if his spine were made of gelatin, then reared his arm back for a horizontal strike.
Quickly stepping forward, Tycon blocked the incomplete swing. With the advantage, he shoved the snake god back-- but he took a solid kick to his thigh in the exchange.
Zehr sighed as he stretched and rotated his right shoulder, "Seven hells, having a mortal body is shite... You'll have to take my word on that, though."
"Granted..." Tycon groaned as he rubbed his leg, "What's changed, Zehr? Why choose this generation to stand with the dragon god?"
"The Dragon God bares his teeth, Tycondrius." Zehr clinked his sword against his shoulder, "He spreads his wings, preparing to take flight."
"If you think you're being cryptic," Tycon rolled his eyes, "it's coming off as pretentious."
