The new elven initiate looks smugly at his opponent who is sat in a wheelchair. They both take their stances and the fight begins. Within an instant, the martial artist using the wheelchair is inches away from the initiate’s face. Barely dodging out of the way, the initiate fails to land any blows, each strike deflected by the impregnable chair itself or by the redirection defensive technique of its user—an immovable mountain with the strength of a raging bull and the dedicated precision of a master. Sweat pours down the initiate’s face as he gazes into the piercing blue eyes of the human before him and desperately studies them for an opening.
