Renato did not draw his sword. Instead, he suddenly lashed out with a kick to the inside of the young warrior's left leg.
His hardened leather boot struck the joint below the knee with a dull thud.
The attack came out of nowhere. The young swordsman's attention had been entirely focused on that ominous black sword, leaving him completely unprepared for Renato's unarmed techniques.
His forward left foot was kicked out from under him. His knee buckled, and the Drow warrior immediately fell to the ground. His sword slipped from his hand and slid across the stone floor with a grating metallic screech.
"Your stride is too long, and your stance isn't stable. Don't stare at the sword. Watch your opponent's entire body..."
The young man, who had nearly cracked his head against the paving stones, struggled to his feet and said through gritted teeth:
"Wasn't this supposed to be a sword fight? You bastard!..."
But by the time he stood up, he found that the tall swordsman had already entered the workshop.
A scarlet cloak flashed through the doorway, then disappeared into the shadows.
The young Drow felt thoroughly frustrated. He had been knocked down before he could put any of his swordsmanship to use. But he had just set the rules himself, and going back on them now would only be more embarrassing.
With no other choice, the young warrior continued guarding the door, stewing in silence.
As soon as Renato stepped inside, he nearly collided with a long cylindrical glass vessel. The glass column held some kind of pale green liquid, with tiny bubbles floating on its surface.
The alchemy workshop was not particularly spacious, but it was packed with all manner of alchemical equipment, from crucibles to assorted glass test tubes, condensers, and distillation flasks...