Ademar took several seconds to collect his wits about what had just happened. He caught a better look at the woman he instinctively jumped into a battle to help. There was not much light, a few flickers from the camp fires burning behind them. Something about her drew him to her. He could not put his finger on it. Sure, she was beautiful, but he had been around several beautiful woman. Maybe it was just that she was so damn good with those swords?<br/><br/>Ademar rubbed his hand over the left front side of his ribs. He grunted slightly. The spot was tender. "Yea, I think I bruised a rib. That<span style="font-style: italic">son-of-a-bitch</span>hit me hard with his club. Knocked me right off my feet." Ademar remembered flying several feet through the air, landing on the relatively soft sand. "It isn't broken. I've broken a few ribs in my day. This is not what that feels like."<br/><br/>He blamed himself for catching the club. He was not aware of his surroundings. Then realized that this woman saved him, "thank you for taking care of that brute. I really appreciate it." Ademar stood up, placed his swords and knives back in their scabbards. Then he extended h is right hand to shake, "Hello, my name is Ademar. Ademar Djalili."