Eridanus nodded silently, his eyes churning an inconceivable light blue that spoke of gratefulness and appreciation for Imass' understanding in the matter. Some of the tension was lifted in the area, and it could be seen in the vantha's slightly uplifted shoulders as though some sort of invisible pressure was being released. Yet, the air around them remained heavy even with this new breeze of moderate calm.
When it was clear that Nira'lia was out of danger, Eridanus faced his Knight companion. He had a feeling that it was a different type of talk that the akalak desired, and then his instincts were proven right when the blue man raised his blade.
In other times the moonchild would have derided such emotional prioritization, deeming such an opponent unworthy for him to draw his own blades. In other times, he would have deemed it sufficient to defeat such an opponent with his fists.
But not now.
He understood the dynamics of the situation and what was at stake. Honor, chivalry, dignity and friendship. If he ever considered Imass as a friend and comrade, and if he ever wanted to keep the akalak as a trusted companion, this conversation must be met with honor.
And thus honor he would give. He knew that Imass would want nothing less.
The vantha squared his shoulders, drawing both blades steadily one by one. As he drew each sword, he passed his hand over the edge quickly, wrapping the sharp end with an arcane barrier that blunted its sharpness, essentially turning his blades into sword-shaped clubs for all intents and purposes. For the sake of Imass' honor, he would not go easy on the knight, yet he was unwilling to kill the man accidentally.
His eyes churned a dark, swirling purple, a maelstrom of mixed thoughts and feelings screaming out from the windows of his soul. Would Imass understand his actions? Would the man know that he was doing this for the akalak's sake? It was, in a way, a non-purposeful test of their bonds and of their friendship, for them to read each other and to converse without words.
The master swordsman stood at bay, his posture a fearsome depiction of death and destruction. Even as he stood still, the ground and air around him seemed to rumble with an ominous hum, synchronizing with his attempts at tuning himself with his gods and his soul.
Flux threads flared up within his soul, ready to be grasped at any moment, and adrenaline began to fill his body, his suppressed love for battle singing joyously. With his will, his honor and his friendship, under the guidance of Wysar's Evantia, Yahal's Ennervism and Myri's Prowess, Eridanus would prove his grace to the knight.
The vantha only hoped that Imass understood.
When it was clear that Nira'lia was out of danger, Eridanus faced his Knight companion. He had a feeling that it was a different type of talk that the akalak desired, and then his instincts were proven right when the blue man raised his blade.
In other times the moonchild would have derided such emotional prioritization, deeming such an opponent unworthy for him to draw his own blades. In other times, he would have deemed it sufficient to defeat such an opponent with his fists.
But not now.
He understood the dynamics of the situation and what was at stake. Honor, chivalry, dignity and friendship. If he ever considered Imass as a friend and comrade, and if he ever wanted to keep the akalak as a trusted companion, this conversation must be met with honor.
And thus honor he would give. He knew that Imass would want nothing less.
The vantha squared his shoulders, drawing both blades steadily one by one. As he drew each sword, he passed his hand over the edge quickly, wrapping the sharp end with an arcane barrier that blunted its sharpness, essentially turning his blades into sword-shaped clubs for all intents and purposes. For the sake of Imass' honor, he would not go easy on the knight, yet he was unwilling to kill the man accidentally.
His eyes churned a dark, swirling purple, a maelstrom of mixed thoughts and feelings screaming out from the windows of his soul. Would Imass understand his actions? Would the man know that he was doing this for the akalak's sake? It was, in a way, a non-purposeful test of their bonds and of their friendship, for them to read each other and to converse without words.
The master swordsman stood at bay, his posture a fearsome depiction of death and destruction. Even as he stood still, the ground and air around him seemed to rumble with an ominous hum, synchronizing with his attempts at tuning himself with his gods and his soul.
Flux threads flared up within his soul, ready to be grasped at any moment, and adrenaline began to fill his body, his suppressed love for battle singing joyously. With his will, his honor and his friendship, under the guidance of Wysar's Evantia, Yahal's Ennervism and Myri's Prowess, Eridanus would prove his grace to the knight.
The vantha only hoped that Imass understood.