Duel (Part 1)

The long robe brushed the dusty path as a solitary figure passed through the ancient forest, the aeon-old trees looming over him in silent speculation. The forest spread out around him, branches intertwining, shutting out the scarce moonlight in the dark bowels of the forest. The moonlight shone brightly, where the wide road cut the wilderness in two. The forest looked foreboding in the darkness, but that did not bother the old man walking along it, muttering quietly.

His face, covered partly by the hood of his robe, highlighted by the frail starlight, showed the worn lines of knowledge.
His long grey beard swayed in the chill breeze as he muttered quietly to himself. His eyes closed completely, and covered by the woolen hood of his cloak, he sensed the road ahead rather than saw it. He moved the practiced sureness that showed that he was used to power and obedience from one and all.

His only belonging, a gnarled walking staff, was a fraction taller than he was. A simple dark green cloak covered his body, with one single marking on its back: the picture of a book surrounded by fire. Knowledge, forged to be born. That was his ideal. He believed that knowledge has to be found by one’s own sweat and blood. He lived by those ideals.
Opening his eyes, he looked around the forest. Still muttering noticing a slight disturbance in the air he stopped dead in his tracks.

Noticing something unusual in the composition of matter around him, he calmly withdrew his head, allowing a huge double bladed axe to split the ancient oak tree beside him in half.

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and a small trickle of light emerged from his finger, to rest on the end of his staff. It lit up the axe with pure light. There was no color in it.

His hood suddenly dropped back from his eyes, and bared his head. His eyes, dark green in colour, displayed knowledge only earned by a lifetime of studying. He glanced at the axe, and quickly took in the skull decorations on its handle.
"A mountain xoc" he laughed "how typical!"

Concentration flashed across his face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. The trickle of energy from his fingers doubled in size, and the light resting on the end of his staff grew to a ferocious flame. It illuminated the forest around him. Greens and browns mixed with the night, as colour flooded back into nightscape.

The shadows of the forest brooded in the background, as the light slowly grew in all directions. What he saw wiped the smile from his face and replaced it with a frown. It was not a pleasant sight to the solitary traveler. Not even to one as powerful as him. He took in the scene around him, analyzing his chances.
A horde of dordans, ekhonii and Xocs surrounded him. Hid partly by the trees, and mainly by the shadows, he did not blame himself for not noticing them. They made no sound.

He felt a shadow sliding out from the forest behind him, and a chill traveled up and down his spine.

He spun around with alacrity surprising for an old man, but only the dust of the road met his gaze. He turned his face forwards, feeling that there was something wrong with the picture the army presented him:

The rough clothing, the blunt weapons, the bared fangs, talons and claws couldn't distract the wanderer from the smell wafting towards him. He could not see an end to the ugly faces. But the thing that bothered him most was the silence and the order. The shape of the giant xocs loomed against the background.

The dordans were not known for their quiet nature, and companionships. Even the ekhonii, the tall, lanky humans, who had menace and cunning imprinted on their faces could not have held the army together. They were not companionable creatures by nature, and served only their own ends, and one immeasurably greater then them. He didn’t want to think about the creature that could keep that order.