The noise of screeching and roaring pierced the room as Massar paced his room. They were shouting for him to step down, but he knew what that meant. It meant his eventual death.
"I have failed you my father," his son said, "please allow me to make amends, I shall challenge their leader to combat and thus prove mine... ney our worth."
"You would be massacred at the hands of Doron you fool, his strength and intelligence in battle puts you to shame as you put me," he spat on the floor and the floor sizzled, "why did I protect you!"
"You still do father, for you do not wish me to pit my life against our enemy, though you hurt my pride," he growled a little but picked up his fathers sword, "if i walk out with this with one hand in the air and point it at Ga'Rath right now, he will be forced to battle me... if I should win he will call of his foolish rebellion and if I should lose, all shall be well again."
"Naive fool, you will die and he will slay me and take my place as Bolak!" he slapped his son in the face, "go... toss yourself to the wolves and see if I care!" the boy turned to face his father, anger and venom in his eyes, and left the room.
The high roofed cavern, almost invisible as the only source of light was brackets of fire, was full of loud, echoing noise and the room was full of angered Carak'Ashan. There appearance was gruesome in the red firelight, like the very dead of their victims.
They were as tall as Doron himself but as intelligent as they were, they were not as sly as the Geresh. Oft the Carak'Ashan and Geresh fought for supremacy... the Carak believed themselves to be more worthy in battle but the Geresh knew how to defeat their opponents in more subtle manners.
Doron raised an arm and pointed his sword at Ga'Rath. Ga'Rath's face twisted in anger at the challenge, he in turn unsheathed his shard-like sword and pointed it at Doron. A booming laugh erupted from his mouldy mouth.
"What are your condition?" he called.
"If I should win, you shall cease this treachery and bow unto me!"
"And if I win?"
"Then I shall die and your quarrel with me shall be ended."
"Nice try Doron, but I want more than that, If I win your pathetic father shall bow unto me!"
Immediately all made way to make a circle, the rebellious Carak stood behind Ga'Rath as the loyal Geresh stood behind Doron.
Immediately the fight began.
Ga'Rath swung his sword in an overhead attack that knocked Doron to his knees. As he swung for his head, the Geresh rolled aside and struck at his legs. The Carak leapt over his attack and landed on his chest, crushing his ribs.
"I don't even pity you weakling!" he laughed mirthlessly, "is this what the Barankar have come to, hiding in shadow and waiting, waiting for a war that will ne'er come because you are too weak to fight," the Carak spat next to Doron, "no longer will the Barankar succumb to the fading rule of the Geresh, we shall take this coming war into our own hands!"
With that Ga'Rath swung his sword again and lopped off his head.
He held up his sword and cheered, his followers cheering too.
Gora'Gan stood in the doorway.
"Behold, Massar, once more the Carak'Ashan shall rule... now, make way for your new Bolak!"