Closed One Passage at a Time [Eldetthal]

[Traverse]

There was a thump behind Eldetthal as two pairs of feet fell to the ground, two pairs of wings rubbing upon themselves as they folded into strange cloaks around the furred forms. If the Akalak was to look around himself, to take stock of his enemies he would not that they had formed a loose semi-circle around him, yet left the male he was facing to have the battle himself. They stood like sentinels, making sure he wasn't to leave. Despite their relatively passive stances, however, the two males surrounding him hissed and snapped, claws flexing as they watched the battle, clearly wanting to join in on the fun.

As if he would have left, even if he could. There was only one thing to do, one mission that he had to complete, and it was growling at him like a rabid dog. The Zith before him gave a gleaming white smile filled with teeth much too clean for something so savage. It did not respond to his shouts, at least not in common, though it seemed to click and whistle to its comrades, perhaps ensuring that they did not cheat him of his fun.

The smile vanished swiftly as Eldetthal hacked and slashed at him. Akalak were strong foes, built from battle and honor just as Zith were built from blood lust and savagery. Perhaps one could say the two races were different sides of the same coin, though neither Zith nor Akalak would care to admit it. Where Eldetthal was strong and muscled, the Zith was wiry and swift. He made sure to keep his distance from the shorter blade when at all possible, and his eyes were alight with watchful intent, both opponents rather evenly matched in skill.

But then the slice of Eldetthal's blade cut along the Zith's thigh. It was a shallow cut, but the Akalak had drawn first blood. Chittering calls of frustration could be heard from the Zith's brethren, and most traces of a smile were gone from the his expression when he charged forward toward his green opponent, scimitar raised above his head in a powerful downward swipe towards the Akalak.

[Eldetthal]

He heard the thump behind himself and understood the two Zith had landed. He was outnumbered but he worried himself praying that he would take a blow to the back. After the semi-circle had formed he understood their intentions with the tent. This was just meant to cause fear, anger and terror into Eldetthal. They were more like guards to the queen who still watched despite Eldetthal's ability to see her. The one that stood before him was more than likely the champion of the group as he spoke to the others.

The anger at being outnumbered set him off, more than any plan they had, more than their awkward smiles that did not match the face it sat upon, and certainly more than idea of being hunted by your own prey.

It was time to get things going. A duck and a dodge later he found an opening and caught the Zith's thigh out of place. As this could be taken as a relatively small event to someone with no combat experience, it was far from it. First blood. It is believed by untrained people that this simply means the person who is now injured and at a disadvantage because of it. This may be true but the real damage caused was the mental game. A game where both players lunged 'n' scratched and roared at each other as equals but when that first drop of blood falls from his leg it means that your opponent is inferior.

Eldetthal found a comfort from the blood he saw and found a good place. Now that his opponent was angry, he could create openings and counter-attack much easier. And here it comes running straight at me with arms high in the air. Eldetthal braced for impact but feints and cuts a wound similar to the first. This was intended as a mind game as well. Eldetthal cutting him twice was one thing, but placing it almost symmetrically on the Zith showed control over his opponent and therefore moral is hit again.

By this time his opponent is put on the defensive so Eldetthal's time to strike was now. He charged his opponent, arm laid out flat in front of him and his blade resting on that arm.

[Traverse]

It was a fierce thing this green creature, but the Zith lay undaunted, even in his rage. He had been the impatient one during this hunt, wanting to strike immediately, but his comrades advised patience. He had barely been able to contain himself this long, and he grew frustrated with himself that now the moment was here it was not progressing as expected. For instance, the larger and stronger entity, was quicker than he had imagined as well, the way he feinted out of range of his blade and gave him another nick upon his other leg: the nerve of this creature.

The creature snarled, and as Eldetthal charged upon the offensive, taking advantage of these events, the Zith responded in kind. As the lakan slashed viciously at him, he caught the ornate blade upon his own curved one. THe clang of steel echoed out into the night, and with a powerful twist the Zith wrenched his arm downward, taking Eldetthal's blade with it. He sent a kick at the Akalak's chest, and followed the move with a vicious slash of his own. It left a long thin cut across Eldetthal's upper pectorals, warning the green warrior not to get so cocky at his initial victory.

Cries of triumph followed this event, and the Zith's smile returned, though it was much more serious than before. This was no game, after all, but a deadly duel that only one of them could escape from. The Zith had the heavier blade, and his breaths began to grow shallow, though it was clear he was barely winded. He twirled the blade in his hand, throwing it up and catching it nimbly in his clawed grasp, then charged Eldetthal again. He utilized his wings this time, unfurling them like a giant cape and beating them once, giving his body momentum as he lunged high into the air and aiming a powerful kick for the Akalak's jaw.