The soldiers of Castle Holm had established a checkpoint on the road only a few miles out from the city. Six men stood at ease conversing and eating rations. Ewe who had the [Farsight] skill, had halted the party beyond the horizon and was reporting intently to his team.
"Grey is there, couple of other strong guys from the barracks too."
"Shit."
"Perhaps they're just taking a quick break before heading on." Clair offered.
"Unlikely. They look likely to set up camp there this evening."
"Right, guess we're got no choice but to carry on and see what he wants with me." Klane said, almost resigning himself to a fight.
They didn't know for certain that Grey had nefarious plans but the circumstances leading up to their impending weren't flattering for him. He was the head of military strategy and a platoon leader for Castle Holm yet for some reason, he was out with a small, capable squad in the middle of the night, harassing inns to search out their party. All this only hours after a deamonkin had killed their leader. Though there was no real reason to tie the events together, the timing had left a wariness towards the soldiers.
"We'll be fine. He's never been hostile towards you before, has he?" Reged said, slapping Klane on the shoulder and nearly tipping him over with Isvar in tow.
"No, not overtly, but my gut tells me somethings up."
"Nothing for it then, we'll just fight our way through if we have to."
He strolled off humming to himself towards the soldiers and with deep breaths to steady themselves in the late afternoon glow, the rest of the party followed. Reged had always had a knack for simply moving forward. He was never one to dwell on things that had yet come to pass. Klane appreciated this mindset, though it was one he was never able to adopt for himself. There had been many attempts on his life in his younger years. Some had been from within the family, others by people of high standing within the court. Surviving all those years and the constant battles and training that followed granted Klane a passive skill that he simply told everyone was instinct. It was more than that though. He had developed a skill that The System called [Antagonism]. Ever since the word streamed across his vision all those years ago after killing an assassin sent by an unrelated Lord from three region, Klane had been able to sense hostility and direct opposition from people. He didn't wish to make the skill known to anyone as it seemed to be quite rare and would likely paint a larger target on his back. So, it was with apprehension and a readiness for conflict that he approached the men waiting for him on the dusty sand coloured road ahead.
The Soldiers became aware of approaching squad from about one hundred meters out and immediately stood to attention. Though their weapons remained holstered, their change in attitude was clear, an oddity for a group of soldiers meant to be greeting a squad from their own military and even more so one containing the second son of the current King.
They paused their approach around ten meters away from the checkpoint and called out to Grey who had remined at ease behind his men and smoking a short hardwood pipe that billowed greyish green smoke in rings from both the bowl and from his mouth.
"To what do we owe the welcoming committee, Commander Grey?"
Klane took the lead and another few steps in front of his comrades. Isvar was still on his back however he had unstrapped the stretcher and planed on using his body as a decoy in the event of an attack. Though he didn't feel terribly fond of the idea, he knew Isvar would have laughed at the plan and probably would have suggested something like it himself.
"Terrible business Klane, just terrible." replied Grey as he tapped out the contents of his pipe onto the road before tucking it away within his chest armour and walking forward.
"Is there something i can help with?"
"No, I don't believe there is."
He eyed the covered load on Klanes back with curiosity then briefly inspected the party before him before a grin grew across his face. Not a cheerful grin found in moments of happiness or joy, but a sinister one, a calculating grin worn by one who had cornered his opponent at the end of a difficult match.
"It would seem you've had some trouble this mission. I take it that is Isvar?"
"It is, we're on our way to report his death at the hands of a deamonkin by the Great Cliff."
"A deamonkin?"
Grey was visibly taken back by this news which was at least some relief to Klane. At least he knew now that the deamonkin wasn't Grey's doing which was another piece of information to bargain with. Another piece on the chessboard.
"Yes, a strong one, nearly killed me too but I got it in the end. Couple of nifty skills he had too."
A flash of anger and hesitancy came and went on Grey's face in almost an instant. He was a strong poker player, but Klane knew well he wasn't one for bluffing nor for taking risks he didn't have all available information on. A moment passed where no-one spoke then without warning Grey drew his sword from its scabbard and pointed it towards Klane. It was a brilliant blade of such pale silver colour that it took on colours around it all times. It was made from an ancient metal that current forgers haven't been able to replicate, only shape to a degree. The sword was known throughout the land from Capital to the border as one of the 8 great blades "Sky dance".
"I think we can desist with question time now. Even if you're telling the truth about the deamonkin, I'm sure that utterly irritating gut instinct of yours has told you all you need to know about us."
Klane had been expecting a surprise attack rather than a dual. He acknowledged Greys intent and laid Isvars body down behind him before drawing the rusty sword claimed from the demon's skull at the base of the cliff from his belt.
"I'd at least like an explanation as to why after all this time you've chosen now to pick a side."
Grey surveyed his opponent keenly and took a half step forward.
"Consider it simply following orders Klane, nothing personal against you."
Klane was familiar with most of Grey's Skills and vice versa, he knew that in a straight up fight he'd have a fifty-fifty shot at coming out on top, but Grey was a strategist. He must have something up his sleeve tipping the odds in his favour or he wouldn't have presented for a dual. Unless he was desperate?
It was no good, Klane snapped himself out of deep thought just in time to see Grey lunge towards him. His speed was incredible. As fast the behemoth he'd fought the other day. He knew Greys [Fleetfoot] Skill had advanced to [Swift] but he had not had the opportunity to see it in combat for a long time.
Their swords clashed in an echo that rang up and down the road for a mile. Klane had engaged all his enhancement skills both strength and speed and was doing his best to keep up with the older soldier. Greys blows were flowing fast and heavy and, in a few seconds, the two had stuck and parried each other's blades nearly a hundred times. The sounds of their impacts were cacophonous whole the whirling footwork and swinging steel sent pulses of wind gusting in every direction. Even the earth began to tremble under the rapid strikes. To Klane's utter surprise, the rusted sword was holding up remarkably well. it was able to bear the brunt of an ancient, advanced metal and show neither chip nor crack. A swinging low kick after a parry sent Grey darting backwards again out of range of blades and the two men stood facing each other once more after only a few moments of battle yet breathing heavily after such an intense exchange.
"That new sword of yours is pretty hardy, boy."
"Thanks, I forgot I had it."
Klane wasn't being coy; he had honestly forgotten that he'd left his sword in the forest and had planned on using the rusted substitute only temporarily till he could go back and retrieve it.
"I'm glad we got to cross blades earnestly in the end Klane. I'd have regretted killing you without a fair test of your strength."
"I don't think it's quite time for you to claim victory yet Grey."
Grey smiled, this time with far less malice that earlier, which to Klane was even more off putting. What had the tactician still have hiding up his sleeve?
Grey drew his sword over his head and entered a stance Klane was unfamiliar with. Was this some sort of new sword style? Grey began to tremble slightly as he looked over the man in front of him and the three young squad members behind. Then brought his sword down in front of him with an uttered word.
"Airsunder"