"So...so what the Hell is he?" Purple eyes narrow.
"Ronin, obviously. Hm. So." Fingers tap on leather. "What do we do? Tell the old man?"
A cough. "If he heard we called him that he would-"
"Appear right behind you and point out that he has better things to do?"
Two yelps in surprise. A cough, and the sound of metal tapping on rock. "What is this? Who is that?" Purple eyes narrow. "Journeys, but...hmph. Well?"
Fingers quickly tap on leather. "Well, he's definitely outside Fate. His companion is, too, the one that killed the Tyrant Lizard. And...ahem...well."
"Show me." It is shown. "Oh son of a bitch." A grunt. "Deal with it."
Two long held, now released breaths. "Okay. What are we going to do?"
A tap. A small chuckle. "Do this."
The blade passes through Kal's neck. But it does not kill. It hits air, instead, and Sky Splitter carries on momentum through the place where his enemy was. A swear and he turns, kicking up dirt spinning the sword in one hand.
A shot rings out, and Sky Splitter swings. The ground in front of him explodes, a cloud of dust and dirt obscuring all by the flaming sword as he steps through.
Yelling, he leaps again, Kal ducking and rolling under him. Pushing off his hands, the marine lands in a crouch. And the sun flares, the air splits, and a fine longsword embeds itself in the ground in front of him. Wrapping a three fingered hand around the hilt, he pulls it out, giving it a practice swing and bringing it up to catch the fiery steel.
How the Hell am I doing this, Kal asks himself. A flash of light and he has the hilt in both hands. Instinct locks the blade against his, his face calm as he sees the ever heightening anger on the Dragonblooded's face.
A deep breath. Eyes narrow and Kal feels it flow through him. He deflects the sword to the side, jumping back. Swings down and drives the enemy's blade into the ground. It becomes reflex. It becomes thoughtless. It makes him focus; but not on the yelling opponent. On what is around and in front and beyond him.
Like the strings of a lute, fluctuating with every step. Like a spider's web of possibility and fate. Like a marionette, connecting that sword of his enemy, and him. With a single flick of the wrist, Kal cuts through the air, not at his foe. But as Sky Splitter closes the distance and swings, the sword strikes-
But buries itself in the ground in front of Kal. The words ring like bells. Impeding the Flow. He remembers them. Internalizes them. Meets the eyes of this foe. He sees all the possibilities before him of what may happen, what will happen, and what must happen. He sees every attack he can make. He sees every choice he can make. He sees every option.
And because he can, he takes all of them.
There is a flash of steel. The sword drops to the ground, along with the hand holding it. The blade bursts from the back, spraying blood along the dirt and mud. The head drops to the ground, and the body soon follows.
Kal gives no heed to the raiders as they retreat, following the grisly death of their commander.
A flash of yellow and green, and Kal steps back as a scabbard impacts the ground in front of him. Picking it up, he turns to the direction it came from, and sees something- someone. A black hood and mask, revealing only purple eyes. "Wait!" But either not hearing Kal- or spurred on by his yell, the man is gone.
Sliding the blade along the scabbard to clean off the blood, he thrusts it into its sheathe. Turning, he watches as the wagons retreat- an empty field where a village was, the time he bought them not wasted.
"Creator Kal'Reegar. We apologize for not offering further assistance." Kal turns as Wuffles approaches, folded up rifle on their back. "After the commander deflected our shot, we could not risk a deflection hitting you."
Kal nods, reaching out and squeezing the Geth's shoulder. It feels as hard to the touch as the real thing. But files that away for later. "We alone?"
A gust is his answer, holding up the decapitated body. Kamilla shakes the corpse, then disappears into the distance, before coming back for the head.
"Right." Kal rubs the bridge of his nose. "Let's get going. Maybe find, I dunno. We're in a big fantasy magic...thing world. There should be a tavern around here somewhere."
Wuffles extends his petals. "We are unsure. If the inhabitants of this world are human, how will you able to find nutrition?"
Kal shrugs. "Fucking magic, as it damn well should be." He begins walking, picking up his burnt cloak and shrugging it over his shoulders. Wuffles follows, stowing his rifle.
