Fight a centaur, bitches.

Real men have names like Sasha

Rules
4 day post limit (From when you last posted)
No godmodding
T1 Text Based Combat.

Location
An arena with a sand covered floor about a foot deep before reaching solid granite. Arena is large and round with an open roof.

Sasha beat his front hooves on the sand, stomping them in a display of his strength. It was a war dance from his people, so to speak, to intimidate their foes with the sounds of trampling before the battle began. When done he finally slapped his leather clad chest and stood upright, ready for the battle to begin. He towered over most other races, his lower half almost as tall as their shoulders, depending on what race they were. He offered only a grim and stern glare. He planted the butt of his spear into the sand, and there he stood, an unmoving and unwavering force.

He was physically strong, allowing him to wear the leather armour he presently wore around his large horse end, and on his human chest. He was also able to carry two blades, a spear, bow and his quiver without feeling any real strain. He was a warrior, bred to carry heavy loads and run at full speed, but today he was here to prove himself more than a soldier. Before the crowds that had gathered at the arena he planned to win. With a chuff of hot air from his nose, he waited for the gong to signal the start of the battle.

Sasha took out his bow and loudly called across the arena, "I am ready to fight if you are." He would wait his opponents response before simply charging into the frey, if only to be polite.

The centaur paid no mind to his opponents stances, instead taking his bow and drawing an arrow. Curiously, the arrows lacked a tip, being nothing more than a shaft of wood and the appropriate end to make them fly straight. With the arrow drawn, he fired across the arena, with terribly precise aim. The arrow itself would make a strange transformation when over half the distance. From it, thorny vines and tendrils would extend outwards to ensnare or entrap Jon should he happen to get caught by them. They grew on their own and if they failed to hit their mark, the vines would instead plant themselves into the ground and grow like a bramble bush.