He drew his sword and advanced toward his opponent quickly. There were only thirty yards between them. Ryswell realised he was more than a head shorter than Jon and subconsciously raised his shield. In just two breaths Jon was now in range and wasted no time. With all his speed lunged to the left and delivered a fierce strike. The bronze sword easily sliced through cloth, steel, flesh and bone. The shield hand of his opponent had been cut off in an instant. Before the now-removed appendage and the shield attached to it could fall to the ground, Jon's blade sang through the air again. The head of Roose Ryswell rolled down, just as his face was beginning to contort in a pained grimace.