<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #40FF40"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Martine Karembeux</span><br/><span style="font-size: 120%; line-height: 116%;">The youngest daughter of Sir Damian</span></span></span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i1343.photobucket.com/albums/o793/Galvin_Fugazi/d5668922-425e-4e73-8f97-dd73233101dd_zps99f99557.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Martine pulled her sword and let it buzz through the air, when she made two quick blows. She waited patiently for Abel to draw his sword an amused smile on his face.<br/><br/><span style="color: #80FF00">"Oi! Martine, so eager to beat on your future husband?"<br/></span><br/>Martine chuckled and then attacked him on quick feet, giving him four quick blows he all paried, but before Abel even could attack her, she was already out of reach. Martine had been taught by her brother and her father to avoid getting into infights, where her lack of strength would make her vulnerable. Her trump ass was her quickness and her agility and so she circled Abel, changing direction every now and then and attacking him in between, whenever she spotted an open flank or that he was too slow to follow her movements.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">“Everybody gets what he deserves, my old husband. Some even get more...”</span> <br/><br/>She fainted an attack, ducked unter his arm when he lifted it to pary the blow he expected and was behind him, before he realised her plan. The broad side of her sword connected with his ass and a chuckle escaped Martine when she increased the distance.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"One - zero. You are too slow, old man. Is that all you manage? Maybe I have to look for some younger husband."</span></div>