Wester woke to soft footsteps just outside the house the Drakos-El were rested in. Years of practice had let him do this when he was not in the safety of his own clan village. Of course, with all that had happened, he doubted he would be safe in his own village again for some time. And though the Fregurds were friends of the Drakos-El, Wester did not like being in the midst of their clan. It was like being a rat trapped in a cheese factory. Sure, the cheese was good, but he was trapped nonetheless.
The door of the house opened to reveal the copper haired healer known as Everyn. Today, she wore a brown shawl and a dagger at her waist. Precaution, perhaps?
"Our Leader would like to invite you to a meeting," she said slowly. She seemed.... on edge. "If it would be acceptable, he wishes to see you in the hour." With that, she walked out. She probably was still upset over the burial the day before. Then again, Wester could hardly blame her.
Wester, nearly and hour later, walked into the clan village - more like city, actually - with Garland. Wester knew the customs of the Fregurds, only due to making trips to the territory a few times in the past, so he had brought his bladed shields and Garland had brought his large ax. So long as they did not draw them without cause, then the Drakos-El men could not be penalized.
The Fregurds were a prosperous people, having buildings that sometimes reached into the sky like hands praying to the Great Source. It really was amazing. With them not battleing constantly, like the Drakos-El and Dynios, the Fregurds had been able to focus on increasing their own lively-hood and power. The people who walked by did not even second glance
Not a few blocks from the Fregurdian Leader's Meeting House, Wester saw them.
The first was a woman he did not recognize at first, but one look at her large ax and her scowling face and Wester knew. It was Zethenia, the Unyielding Berserker. It was the name given to her by many Drakos-El on account of her unpredictable and unstoppable fighting style. The only one who could fight toe to toe with her was Garland. Wester had never faced her, so he was unsure what his chances would be.
The other was none other than Kane, having his two blades combined and on his back. He looked more angry than ever and seemed to seep out the will to fight. Yes, he wanted someone to fight for sure. Wester had fought the man enough times to tell when he wanted to draw his blades.
Kane noticed Wester and Garland instantly. His eyes grew wide and he charged. Wester sighed. Why was the man tempting the wrath of the Fregurds? It was stupid in the least.
"Die, bastards!" Kane yelled and swung his blade toward Wester's neck. Wester never moved. Garland was there in an instant, blocking Kane's blade with his ax. He shoved the man back. Around them, people moved away. They seemed more annoyed than afraid, though.
"Heathens need to think before they strike," Garland said, hefting his ax onto his shoulder.
"And bastards need to die!" Kane yelled and attacked Garland. Garland managed to block the smaller man's strike and the two started slicing at each other. Wester was slightly worried, since Kane was most likely the better fighter, but ignored it. Garland was good enough to survive the encounter at least.
Wester had another problem. Pulling both bladed shields from his back, Wester blocked the large ax from Zethenia, who had charged shortly after Garland stopped Kane. Now, she was after Wester.
"So," Wester said, jumping out of the way as Zethenia swung her massive ax once more, "Are you the new leader of the heathens?" She smashed her ax into the ground where Wester had been standing.
"That's right," she growled, "You the new leader of the Drakos-El?" Her ax nearly hit Wester, but he managed to divert the blade with his shields. She really was a good fighter, though not as good as Kane. Her style was not as accurate and made her predictable. The only thing that made Wester hesitate was her gender.
Wester caught her ax with his shields, barely stopping it fram slicing into his head. Despite her being weaker than him, the ax gave her swings more power than Wester's attacks could ever have. "There is no place on the battlefield for women, heathen," Wester said, his arm's growing cold for some reason, "Withdraw now before I am forced to fight seriously."
Zethenia laughed and pressed her ax downward. Though Wester held her ax up easily, icicles started to form on its blade. It spread to his own weapons and then to his arms. 'By the Source,' Wester thought to himself, 'She is trying to freeze me!'
Immediately, Wester shoved her back, then created flames around his arms to melt away the ice and restore his body temperature. Any more of that ice and Wester was sure his arms would catch frostbite.
"Don't underestimate women," Zethenia said.
"Why is it I am believing that statement more and more?" Wester readied himself for a second encounter. This time, he would not hold back.