She shoved closer, bringing the haft around, the length of it pressing against him. The Overseer grunted, and briefly, instinctively, considered his options.

Option one--step back, yank spear, try to throw her off-balance. He liked that option, it played to his agility. Or two, shove back, get in a tug of war. But... y'know, in reverse. Or three, punch her. His maneuverability was a little limited with having to shove the spear, so he decided to combine One and Two as she shoved at him.

Vargas attempted to step to his right, yanking forward on the spear to leave Elyon suddenly without resistance. He hoped she'd stumble forward--preferably to meet the left arm that was swinging forward, six thumbs balled into a little fist, aiming for her face.

Vargas, however, failed (very much in fact) to account for the resistance the centaur-creature had been leveraging on him. No sooner had he stepped aside than he stumbled-... and outright fell, sprawling across the ground right at Elyon's feet with a loud grunt.

Vargas grunted as all... however many pounds of heavy exoskeleton beast swung onto his back and snagged a grip. It was an unpleasant lesson: his back-quills, deadly as they could be, were not as useful against a hard shell. They didn't break--they were flexible, and strong, both; but the Overseer found it difficult to try and even regain his feet with her weight on him.

He flung himself right and then left, as best he could while still half on the ground, trying to sway Elyon hard with the momentum; and brought his left forearm up spikes-first as he did so--hoping to bring Elyon hard left, and impact her into the swing of his forearm. It wasn't a hard enough strike, really, to truly impale, particularly not with her shell; but he hoped it would at least stun her, if not dislodge her grip entirely.

Elyon might have spent a moment stunned, but Vargas had flung himself to one side in his last maneuver and it took him precious moments to scramble his lanky limbs back beneath him. By the time he'd scrambled back up to his feet, the centaur-beast was already drawing her spear, and he had time to tense and little else before she charged.

The Overseer saw a blur--a flick of an arm, the rapid movement of heavy exoskeleton, the thrust of shield--and felt the impact across his face. Again he was struck--quite literally, this time--by her strength, the shield slamming across his face and staggering him back a few steps, shaking his head as if to clear it.

He was dazed, for an instant, but instinct drove his reflexive response--to lash out backhanded, and hope to strike her away. If he was lucky he might knock away her spear, or shield, or even both; but at the very least his intent was to buy himself a few feet of space and an instant of reaction time.

Character: Elyon Age: +12 (12 Cycles) Magic Level: +1 (Fledgling) ROUND 1 Attempt: +17 Penalties: -0 ROUND 2 Attempt: +13 Penalties: -0 ROUND 3 Attempt: +15 Penalties: -0 ROUND 4 Attempt: +19 Penalties: -0 ROUND 5 Attempt: +8 Penalties: -0 Total: 85

Character: Vargas Age: +7 (118807 Cycles) Magic Level: +3 (Brawler) ROUND 1 Attempt: +15 Penalties: -0 ROUND 2 Attempt: +11 Penalties: -0 ROUND 3 Attempt: +1 Penalties: -0 ROUND 4 Attempt: +19 Penalties: -0 ROUND 5 Attempt: +20 Penalties: -0 Total: 76

WINNER: Elyon

Vargas stared, shaking himself, still a little dazed. He'd felt his arm connecting, and could feel the ache of both of them. The hit had been pure luck--don't tell Elyon about his actual accuracy--but it was hard not to hit when your forelimbs were as massively lanky as his were.

He shook himself again, then burped. Then blinked. Apparently, Elyon had jarred his gut a little. Hm.

"You are strong," he declared. "This is good. I have known several of your shape. Most did well in trials. One served the Masters directly. I would use it, if you are not putting it to use already. Either as a guardian for my other servants, or your stone, for further creations."

It wasn't really a demand. In the old days, he might have chosen for her, or demanded both--but Vargas had a lot going on, these days, and he didn't really mind. He was wondering, already, if he now had the freedom to test that design with his own admixture. He'd wondered, in the past, what his swift, spined alien form might create when joined with these more exo-skeletal beings.

Perhaps now would be the time to find out?