Ale Stains and Honor (Imass)

[Wrenmae]

Summer, 80, 512 AV early afternoon The Kelp Bar was brazen with the aftermath of the impromptu assembly. Zeltivans applauded each other for standing up to the Syliras bullies and whispers of Tock’s essential involvement was on the tip of everyone’s tongue. To Murdock, it was nothing short of annoying. He’d watched them systematically tear down the knight’s position from the bar, sitting near the door to hear the shouts and murmurs of dissent. The knights supported their own, and Imass had headed to the Kelp bar in the aftermath. He was holed up in a corner, the only corner available to him now that the Zeltivans had found their backbone. Supping his mug , the murderer watched the knight. This situation had silver linings in it, especially now that Imass had effectively demolished his and his company’s credibility. What a destructive element that girl was. Shaking his head, the Waveguard leaned back in his seat and slid the mug away from him. It wasn’t time yet. “What exactly are we waiting for?” Zan bubbled, “Weren’t you gonna talk to him?” Patience, Murdock, once Shroud, cautioned, He is still digesting his defeat. Give him a few chimes. “Will he calm down before he heads off to his duel?” It’s a chance we’ll have to take. I can’t risk approaching him at a disadvantage. “What exactly did you want to do?” Shroud picked up his mug, miming a toast at the bartender. Make a new friend, of course. He waited a few more chimes, noting how the knight was almost fuming with anger, trying his best to cool down, closing his eyes and sitting back. Probably calming himself down from all the excitement. Mostly by virtue of his armor and blade, the others left him alone. But Murdock took the chance, stood, and crossed the room to his side, sliding into an empty chair across from him. “Rough day, ser knight?” He asked with a disarming smile, “I saw what happened out there. I’m sorry. That girl has always been a nuisance for public disturbances, you just caught us all at a hard time.” He held out a hand to the knight, fingers extended, eyes glittering, “Murdock, Wave Guard of Zeltiva. What do they call you, ser knight?”

[Imass]

The Knight sat alone in The Kelp Bar. He had sent the squires back to the main force for he had no use for them anymore. His dark side still held dominance over the Akalak as he sat with a gruesome face. His expression was grotesque and full of anger. His body language screamed frustration and rage. He did not know what to do.

Images of his gauntleted hand snapping the girl's neck replayed in his mind over and over. It was not fair. Why was he to be subjected to this? Had this been Syliras he would have her arrested and by now she would be rotting away in the gaols. She was a blasphemer. She had insulted Imass' very core beliefs of truth and honor. Others in the crowd had done similar, but Tock's voice still rang in his mind. Her lowlife, scum-ridden voice plagued him.

Oh how he wished and wished to meet her on the field of battle. He almost salivated at the thought of a fight with her. Imass wished to bring her into HIS realm. The Knight wanted to show her that combat was the great equalizer. There was no manipulation in combat, no words, just cold steel. That was the ONLY true way to have a conversation with a person. There was no lying in a duel. It was absolute truth magnified to the extreme.

Despite his deepest wishes of revenge, the Knight's moral codes were way too strict. He was lawful and would not break the law consciously.

Before he could spiral further into his dark side's depression, a door suddenly opened for him; a wave guard approached him. A tall human Wave Guard named Murdock. He was very handsome and had a healthy glow in his face.

The Knight meets the man's hand with his own gauntleted fist, "I am known as Ser Imass."

Imass sat back down and eyed the man from head to toe, racial profiling him as he was thought in his squires days. The Knight had no intentions of discussion, "With all due respect to you, thy office, and thy Sovereign City of Zeltiva, I thank ye, Master Wave Guard, I have no need for thy sympathy nor thy empathy. I do not need your apology either. I do not need thy conversation either. Thank ye graciously none-the-less!"

The Knight stood up now. His face was grave and serious. He wasn't playing around. He spoke in a clear voice, but not loud enough for everyone in the tavern to hear, "I do need thy strict and moral justice though. I seek to press full charges against the vile maiden: Tock the Beguiler. I seek justice on the grounds of defamation of my good name and the name of the Knights and our own fair city. She defiled the Syliran Knight's banner and tampered with the integrity of the dear squires. She even threatened me as well with her cursed tongue. I have no doubt that these are enough charges for the full arrest and prosecution of Tock the Beguiler."

Imass stared at Murdock in the eyes and awaited his response.

[Wrenmae]

Murdock looked up at Imass, raising an eyebrow, “Sit down, Ser Imass, there are procedures to follow in Zeltiva.” Leaning back in his chair, the Waveguard scrutinized the tall purple man with more than idle interest. His skin, his size, neither of which were common in Wren’s memory. Was he another race from some far corner of the world? Perhaps, instead, he was the result of some magical mishap…an unfortunate alchemy accident with grapes. The thought was almost enough to laugh at, but he wisely held his tongue. Djed coiled in his eyes, lancing out to strike the knight and repeat a soothing mantra of calming emotions, a surge of peace that rolled over Imass and soothed his growing anger. I should at least hear him out It was repeated in Imass’ own voice, echoed in his head. Glancing away, Murdock signaled the bartender to bring over another Kelp beer, placed in front of the Waveguard. “I didn’t see the destruction of your banner, Ser Imass, and if you do not have dependable alibis to corroborate your story, I cannot make a move.” Again, the mage offered the seat to the knight. “In Zeltiva, we trust each other, much like the people of Syliras trust their knights. As such, they will rise to protect whom they think is their champion, as the people of Syliras may defend the honor of you, Ser Imass, were this situation reversed.” He smiled, openly, drumming both hands on the table. “You say the gadgeteer, Tock, broke your banner. I say it could have easily fallen. Maybe other say it did as well. What we need is her confession.” A sigh. “I cannot take you at your word, Ser Imass. Thought I was born Syliran, my father took me from the city as a young child. I was brought up a trader, and as such I have a trader’s appraisal. I want to trust your story, Ser, but in order to trust I need to know. You seek to avoid conversation? Fine, but I cannot form an opinion of you by the armor you wear nor your strength of arm. Speak to me, tell me of yourself, and I will see if I cannot give you your justice…and repair your banner as well.” Zeltivans were staring at the standing Akalak now, whispering amongst themselves. “Or you can act on instinct, and divide yourself from the allies you came to retrieve for your holy quest.” He shrugged, “Spurn my help, Ser Imass, and you may regret it. I am here, not as a Zeltivan, not as a Syliran, but as a keeper of the peace and an arbiter of justice. Give me your trust and patience, Ser knight, and I will repay you in kind.”

[Imass]

Imass would not take a seat as Murdock had suggest. No. He was still feeling rage and hatred. His dark side would not subside so easily. Bloody thoughts filled his mind. The Akalak was a warrior first and his natural release was fighting; he just wanted to release his rage on someone. His mind wandered to images of slamming Tock's face into the cobbled floor. He wanted to see blood flow from her face. Only then would she understand. Only then would a Zeltivan understand what life was all about.

However, this did not mean he wouldn't hear out the Waveguard. Although his dark side took over, Imass wasn't a murderer or a law breaker; he would seek justice through the proper channels of Zeltivan justice. He stood silently shaking with anger. His face was hardened in a cruel frown. His eyes piercing as he looked directly into Murdock's eyes.

Imass snarled when Murdock mentioned he could not take the word of a Knight. The Akalak knew he was right, but it hurt him even so. He had witnesses, but that wasn't the problem. What got to him was the fact this waveguard did not respect his own calling as a Knight and his worship of Tyveth. 'What does a worshiper of Tyveth need to do to prove his word is his bond here in Zeltiva?' Imass thought to himself as Murdock finished his explanation.

The Knight beat his own heart once and held a raised fist to his heart, "Why thou cannot take me for my word? I do not understand! Is it not enough that I have taken Knightly vows and pledged to serve my whole entire life for the betterment of humanity? Is it not enough that I march to war on behalf of those who cannot fight? I have trained my whole LIFE to help civilization! I have vowed to help ALL those less fortunate to me from the forces of evil and darkness! I have pledged my life to Tyveth, Champion of Truth! Is this not enough for you? I have proven my trust, yet you do not trust me AND you ask me to trust you? BAH! Tyveth knows I am speaking the truth, regardless if you believe so or not, Ser Tyveth knows."

Imass took a step away from Murdock and looked at the door of the establishment. His voice calmed down a little as he spoke solemnly, "Wilson!! -- My squire will testify as your witness." Imass whistled towards the window and door of the establishment. Soon a squire would come tumbling into the bar no doubt.

"As for conversation, the only true conversation is that of the blade. If you want to know me better and know if I speak the truth or not than spar me outside. If not, I suggest we keep this strictly to business. I am a warrior in no mood for pleasantries right now," Imass informed Murdock.

"WILSON!" Imass yelled again. If the squire didn't show up soon, he would have to walk outside again and grab him for Murdock.

[Wrenmae]

Murdock sighed, running a hand through his hair and almost putting his forehead down on the table. The knight was as difficult to deal with as Tock. All pomp, all pride, none of the logic to back it up. Was he the only forward thinking individual in this whole confusion of beliefs?

“Ser…Imass,” Murdock forced, standing up swiftly and standing between him and the open door, “You insist on misunderstanding me. I do not doubt the Syliran knights stand for justice and honor, but you are no longer in Syliras. We do not operate by the same rules the knights and their people follow. If you are committed to the good of us all, I suggest you lower your tone, remember your place, and realize that were we in your city, things would have progressed differently.” Even against the taller, stronger man, Murdock did not waver, did not bend. Dealing with militant zealots like this required a firm hand. Yield and they will take it as a directive. The weak were the fodder, the cobblestone, for the strong to walk on. “Your squire is unnecessary. A biased witness proves little. Worship of Tyveth or not, all you’ve given me are words. I have not seen your honorable deeds, I have not seen your mettle, I only know you as a name and several assertions I cannot prove nor deny. Understand that as an arbiter of law, I must take everything into consideration. Before you go off ill-prepared into a public relations fiasco, try to slow down and use your head.”

Zeltivans leaned back in their chairs to watch the exchange, most curious if yet another Trident Champion was about to engage the knight. “If violence is the only language you’ll understand, than I’ll take you up on your spar, your duel. If I win, however, you must yield to my logic…at least concerning this case. If I lose, I’ll yield to yours.”

Murdock quirked an eyebrow at the knight, a small smile curling at the edge of his mouth, “Unless, of course, you want to make the wager…more dangerous.”

Dangerous sounds suspiciously to me like suicidal

Patience, Zan, let me work

Into an early grave?

Into an advantageous position.

A moldering corpse is an advantageous position?

Never risk, never gain.

Never risk, never die.

They say a coward dies a thousand deaths, and a hero dies but one.

Obviously whoever wrote that wasn’t a coward. I'm told most real cowards survive.

Enough. Let me work.

Ok, but I maintain this is a bad idea.

Noted.

Good.

I might interfere

I might ask you to.

At least we’re on the same page.

[Imass]

Murdock cut off Imass. Loud rage outburst into a snarled twist of his face. His eyes burned and pierced. A giant fit of rage came straight from his stomach and engulfed his heart. His dark side had enough of Murdock's words. It was people like him that kept Imass' dark side at bay. Those who used logic and reason where the ones his light side attempted to subdue by keeping his dark side at bay. Ser Imass could not handle skepticism and it showed straight through his dark side right now as aggression. Blind rage consumed him like a fire. He did not care of consequences anymore. He did not care for keeping the peace between Zeltiva and Sylira. He didn't have a mind for anything right now except fighting.

The Akalak took a heavy step forward and walked straight by Wrenmae and out the door. He slammed the door with his fist in a jerky outburst of anger. The doors swung right open as he stepped through the threshold into the streets. His aura of anger was sensed right away by all the laymen around. Walking a few paces into the street he turned back towards Murdock and unslung his shield with a single flick of his thumb. He unsheathed his broadsword with was a loud ring.

"This is a gentleman's duel. No one interfere!" Imass said coldly. There was no turning back now, but even that fact didn't matter; the Akalak had made up his mind from the start. Nothing would sway him, not even words, "Murdock, from now on I will only communicate to you through true conversation," of course referring to the idea that the blade was the only way to have a unbiased and truthful conversation, "You cannot lie to me anymore," Imass gave out an uncharacteristic smile, "And I am going to wipe your ass on the floor, my son."

Taking his sword in hand and holding his shield close to his heart Imass got into his fighting stance. His feet were planted firmly at a fifteen degree angle to Murdock's body (his shoulders where square though). His large shield covered his whole left flank from knee cap to head; he held it at his side, not his front. His broadsword was held pointed straight towards the sky. He even revealed the flat of his blade to Wrenmae. He tucked his sword arm strongly so that when the moment of attack came he would be quicker and faster than his opponent. Without waiting for Murdock's reply, Imass began to advance like a slow moving tower. The Knight would start disciplined, but how long until his anger took over.

The suppressed Akalak stared into Murdock's eyes in pure aggressive hatred.

[Wrenmae]

Murdock let Imass push through, stepping sideways to allow the larger man passage. The door smashed open, heralding the whispered conversations of a hundred souls, two hundred eyes. Squires and some other knights set the ring of the battleground, the Zeltivans forming the rest. They watched the knight and the waveguard, representing homes neither was from. Murdock hooked his Waveguard shield to his left arm, swinging the weight hesitantly. In contrast, he drew his long dagger, more a thin and powerful short sword than a dagger at all, in one swift fluid motion. In every respect, Imass was a larger opponent. Long sword, large shield, huge size…Murdock was his lesser in every physical aspect. Of course, that gave him speed, if at the sacrifice of a much shallower range.

Imass showed the flat of his blade, his words hot in the air between them. Murdock swallowed a sigh, bringing up his shield and holding his dagger out, his stance balancing from one foot to the next, quick to pivot and stab when necessary, tumble and sting.

He’s gonna kill us.

Faith, my companion, we are not so easily defeated.

Well. Yeah. But usually you use magic, not just your tiny little dagger.

The Knight would not understand magic.

When has that stopped you?

I suppose you are correct.

Suppose? LOOK at him! He’s the biggest fleshbag I’ve ever seen!

And blue.

Racist.

Murdock met Imass’ eyes with cold calculation, circling the advancing knight at a speed just slightly above his pacing. Jeers and shouts paraded through his concentration, cutting strategy to ribbons as the Zeltivans cheered his victory and the knights cheered Imass. Ever present, the blue knight did not yield an inch, did not pause a moment. His mind was resolute and fury burned in his eyes. Hissing, Murdock took a step inward, raising his shield in anticipation of the sword, intending to meet it, push it aside, and stab in with his blade.

It was…perhaps, not the best move to make.

But wait any longer and he’d be cornered.

A place no snake wants to be.

[Imass]

Murdock produced a long knife and a shield. The Knight had little thoughts pertaining to his weapons. He would fight him as per usual. Rage flowed through his body. It was a controlled explosive aggression he had been honing through meditation and bodybuilding his whole life. Murdock and Imass were about to get intimate.

The Akalak tactics where simple. He would raise the level of competition by exploding all his energy on the opponent. Imass as confident he would out work him in a fight. He would give him no choice but to exchange blows against armor. Imass would make his long knife obsolete. If Imass could make the dual a test of endurance, instead of skill he was confident that he would win the bout easily. Long story short, his plan was to overwhelm Murdock and shatter him into pieces.

Imass swung his broadsword with an overhead swing. Holding his arm at a ninety degree angle, he was able to get an extremely power torque. Stepping into Murdock's reach he swung with all his might, bringing his body weight through the swing. Even with such a massive strive; he held the shield over the left side of his body to protect any blow launched towards his side.

"HIYAH!"

Murdock raised his shield in defiance of the attack. Imass felt his broadsword hack down on his opponent's shield; it sent a painful shockwave up his arm through his hand. If not for the heavy gauntlets, he would have dropped the vibrating sword.

Without waiting for anyone, Imass began to swing again and again. He was trying to get at least two more solid hits on Wrenmae's shield before they disengaged. He didn't even think of counterattack, nay, he plunged forward into attack with utter confidence. Imass was a soldier of the Windoak and he knew that he could not lose to this heathen. However simple his swings seemed to be, none could deny the power and ferocity of Imass' broadsword attacks.

[Wrenmae]

The first blow to the Waveguard shield nearly shattered Murdock's bones. Gods, was this a duel or was the stupid oaf really trying to kill him? He barely managed to hold the blade at bay, rebuffing its strike and pushing his shield up at the same time, giving Imass less room to use his prodigious strength.

His blade was not blocked by the shield, Imass was not quick enough to easily compensate. The long dagger skirted the armor he wore with a metallic screech and he withdrew the blade just as quickly. No, this would not do. The knight was better armored, better equipped, and stronger than the smaller opponent.

Arguably, this fight was already decided.

Hissing, Murdock reached into his own Djed and burned magic along his arms, legs, and chest, strengthening muscles, thickening his frame. The trick of morphing was to utilize the powers given through models. He had the skin density of an Isur, and the strength of a Dhani at his disposal. Both he began incorporating into his frame, disengaging with the knight with a nimble leap backwards.

He wobbled a moment, landing awkwardly, and Imass took the opportunity to step in, swinging his blade full force down at his opponent.

Murdock hurled his shield up to intercept the attack. Again, the force of the Akalak rattled his bones, bruised his frame, and forced the morpher from his feet.

He hit the ground in a roll, coming up on his knees and immediately throwing himself again to avoid the third attack.

Perhaps his only saving grace was that his opponent was slower with such heavy equipment.

Up again, his muscles reworking, strengthening, bulging a bit. His body did not feel the tremors of the ground as much any longer, flecks of what appeared to be metal, glimmering from his skin now. Models took a matter of seconds to access while other morphs often were the work of minutes. Luckily, Murdock only borrowed the strength of the Dhani, Bones, and the skin of the Isur he'd found in the cave long ago.

Heavier, but more confident, Murdock met Imass' charge by raising his shield to the sword again. It came down with a crash, but did not move or rattle him as significantly as before. In fact, Murdock pushed back, forcing the sword higher in a surprising feat of strength. Again his blade came across Imass, glancing off his shield in another metallic shriek.

Res began gathering around Murdock's hands, expectation of things to come. In order to win this battle, he'd need to disarm the knight his sword, or at least knock him to the ground.

In a flat fight, Imass had superior armor and endurance.

But this was a duel...

And he intended to win.

[Imass]

In response to Imass' overhead attack, Murdock slashed at the Akalak's armor like a fool. There was no way he was going to cut the full plate in such a manner. The attack barely phased the heavy warrior's series of attacks.

Murdock reeled, losing his footwork. Without compromising his base, the Knight slid forward to close the gap with his opponent. The key of a knight's fighting was to always maintain proper footwork. As a heavily armored fighter, losing footing would mean death in a duel. Raising his large broadsword at a ninety degree angle, he swung again with all his might. Murdock blocked again sending steel on steel vibrations up Imass' arm and shoulder.

The Waveguard feel to his feet. The Knight stepped forward and swung a third time without thinking. Murdock rolled on a knee, shield and all, narrowly dodging Imass' attack. Murdock was back on his feet at this point and back away as his morphing took into effect.

A young squire yelled in the background, "Stand and fight wave guard!"

Imass swifted closer and swung again in the same manner as before. His opponent raised a shield in protest, but his counterattack was futile for the Knight's shield remained true and unmoving, protecting his left flank. Murdock would never be able to make progress with his weak slashes. However, that being said, the wave guard did not buckle this time under the Akalak's swings; Imass noticed his new found strength and metallic skin immediately, but there was no time to think.

The grim faced Akalak stood still in his stance for a moment and allowed for Murdock to disengage. The crowd was going now. Imass took a moment's breather and came in.

Holding his round shield with his left hand, the Akalak swung at Murdock's right' eye and shoulder. His goal was to smash the rim of his shield against bone, shattering the combatant's face or force the opponent to bring his shield across his body. Imass was certain that his opponent's long knife would not be effective to parry his 90 centimeter diameter shield. If Murdock brought his shield across his body, then Imass would drop his broadsword and shoot out a hand to grab the rim of his opponent's shield. He would then proceed to attempt to fling the shield off.

If this strategy did not work, he would act on instinct and attempt to counterattack or parry any blow that was exchanged.