It was like lightning had struck and several men shot out at me. Their clothes were barbaric. They had cloaked themselves in the furs of dead animals, mocking the life that they had so blatently taken. Using the feet, they had secured the pelts to their shoulders. It seemed as if they aalso wore cloth, but I was certain that they could not be so advanced. One held a broadsword, two others clutched their bows as if they were made of gold. Another brandished two thin weapons that I knew not the name of and the last was something that I had never seen before. It was metallic and tube-like with some sort of control at the end. Names however are unimportant. As the men advanced, I fiddled with the object in my hand. Thrice I turned it over, the smooth suface cool against my hand. It calmed me. I smiled. There was nothing for me to worry about. I was a Rahu. An immortal peace keeper ... and a Warrior. My sudden laughter obviously unsettled the men, who I'm sure were re-thinking their attack. It gave me the perfect opportunity. I spun on one foot and lashed out with the other, hitting the man closest to me squarely on the jaw. He crumpled easily and I wondered how barbaric these men really were if they couldn't even fight bare handed. I dodged the Broadsword that was coming towards me and blocked the punch after that. My arms felt warm as they tingled with ancient magic. I knew that the snakes were whithering and the runes of the deadly spells that I knew, were moving, growing and shrinking. All waiting to be called upon. I was thankful that my jacket covered my tattooed arms completely. The men no longer seemed unnerved and their slow, light footed advance turned into a stampede that sent birds in a nearby tree into flight. Their reproachful `CAW` echoed through the trees. There was no longer a gap between me and my attackers and they were only a few feet away. I said one one, demanding only one thing:
The small device in my hand began to lengthen. The sharpness of the blades would have destroyed my hands had I not dropped it during the metamorphosis. There was no time to pick up my weapon. Swords were thrust in my direction, arrows missed my by just a hair. I relied solely on my ability to dodge the sharp instruments and hit my opponents when they least expected it.
The broadsword was once again swung in my direction. I avoided it with no troubles. These swords are rather pointless. They cause damage to buildings and intimidate the weak. They are not fighting swords. They should not have been used in a fight such as this. For a single second I turned. I was about to pick up my own weapon when I felt the pain in my back. A knife. The point was digging into my flesh and if it was pressed any harder i was sure that it would break the skin. I put my hands behind my head and muttered into the floor.
Though no one noticed, I was no longer armed. On the floor in front of me was a small object about the size of my palm. The pressure on my back lessened and I stood and faced my attackers. `Well then, what do you want.`
"Come with us."
"Well seeing as you're waving a knife in my face I don't really have much of a choice now do I?"
The man smirked as I picked up my bag. As soon as I stood, he grabbed my arm and began to march me towards - what I was sure is - camp.