Under Guard

[Jay Carpenter]

Asha'man Lennox Orander

Lennox was genuinely surprised that Kojima rushed him so soon after his punishment. He could tell that it lacked any real intention but that was realized after Len listened to his slurred introduction. Lennox had been expecting some sort of retaliation for his part of this man's punishment, but it still raised his ire. He had finally came to heel and surrendered himself fully to the command of the Dragon and his M'hael and now this blustering fool really had the gall to come after him. His actions had forced Lennox to slay innocents again, alongside the guilty ones who spoke against the Black Tower. While it had been over a decade since Lennox's time under the influence of a Dreadlord's memories it was only a few months ago for him. It reminded Lennox of its presence while in Caemlyn; how easy it was for him to not question who got in the way of his objectives. He could still remember the dark pleasure of hearing the screams.

It's his fault... he had the audacity to force my hand.

Pushing the thought deep into the Void, Lennox stepped aside, swatting his opponents away lazily. What separated Lennox and the other blade-masters that claimed loyalty to the Towers from other swordsman that sword play ceased to be the use of rote sword forms and their counters and became a dance, an art that was deadly if any mistake were made. Lennox saw several openings in the clumsy exchange of blows from Kojima to end the fight but decided against them and decided for a less deadly answer to Kojima's attempts at striking him. He rushed in again and this time Lennox stepped towards him but to his outside. Seeming to be almost an afterthought, Lennox flicked his sword against Kojima's, brushing it off course and extending his arm.
Between Kojima's forward motion and Lennox's twisting body and strength of arm, he soon found himself falling with a speed and the deep loud thud of the landing didn't seem to match up with Lennox's seemingly slothful movement. Wasting no time, the youngest Orander jab his sword, Sunsetter, into the dirt by his head.

“Dead. Luckily you already stink of a corpse. Be about your way.”


He stepped away after pulling his own sword up and watched the man stand back up. He was curious as to how much this man had drank today given just how shakily he stood. He spat his airway clear and stared hard at Lennox. Eyes red, "Yeah? Well that's the thing. I don't feel dead yet. So bloody stand and fight, Orander!"


It wasn't anything overt that tipped him off that Kojima's intention had become more than a wounded pride's bravado. His eyes, that were at the beginning merely devoid of any thought or feelings, struggled to focus, trying to decide which figure of his blurred vision was the true man. His drunken state was readily apparent to Lennox as he wobbled while he resumed his stance and spoke his slurred words. Len could see despite his current inebriated state that the man was an expert in the forms. Either he practiced almost daily or he held a rather sharp mind, Len couldn’t tell. His coat fluttered lightly as he helped Kojima’s sloppy cut by tapping his own sword on the top of his over-extended sword and stepped in to deliver a quick elbow to his jaw, again using both men’s mass and movement to empower his strikes that much more.

Lennox’s ignored the throbbing in his elbow where it made contact with his jaw. This was a killing technique of his that usually targeted the temple area of his enemy. His anger continued to boil as he watched him stagger up yet again. A part of him admired him for attempting to use another sword that was ill-fitted for his style of fighting but the rest him seethed that he thought that the crude thing he swung about could even contend with Sunsetter. There was no other weapon like it; even as Power-wrought weapons go it was a masterpiece among them. The absurdity of Kojima’s behavior and blatant disrespect to Lennox and his weapon began to break the wall that contained his anger and sorrow

“Dead.“


Lennox stepped back again and kept a wary eye on the drunkard. The alcohol would raise his pain threshold so it wasn’t surprising that Kojima rose as quickly as he did. He charged again.

Lennox parried two more sloppily executed forms before sending him back to the ground again after spinning around him and planting his boot to the back of Kojima’s knee. By now all those closest to them had stopped to watch the beating.

“A duel is a dance of death, not some words on a page. Forms are only the beginning.”


When the drunk was on his hands and knees Lennox kicked him savagely in the gut, causing him to collapse again. His anger with the man tipped over to a barely contained rage.

“Dead.“


Lennox used his sword to wave the Dedicated over and began to walk away. Lennox kept his emotions behind his stony mask and out of his voice while he berated the Dedicated for allowing this man to roam about and of how he was allowing him to sully their brotherhood even further. To his credit the man recovered quicker than Lennox had expected but the blustering of a drunk and the shuffling of his boots warned the younger Orander of the man’s approach, but Lennox decided this was it- he would no longer stand this man’s insulting presence. The bottom of his coat twirled as elegantly as a noble’s dress in a palace ballroom and he spun.

Swiftly as a hawk descending on a rat he swung with all his might so that the edge of his sword would pass the man’s neck. If Kojima wished to become useless as he seemed to want; Jearox would only gleefully oblige.

He swung with all his might to remove the burden of his head from his shoulder in one smooth cut, like the parting of silk. Fate, it would seem, intended on sullying Jearox’s honor further. The bloody fool staggered out of line, with hasty draw to parry and a cry, lost his balance when he over-extended his reach and stumbled out of the sweeping arc of Jearox’s sword.

STOP!

Lennox hastily pushed Jearox and those thoughts back into the Void. Lennox took far less time to recover but still the same stroke of luck would not deny him twice. Lennox pushed with all his will to put the imagery of ending this man, a brother in arms, down like an old hound but he wasted no time in dealing with his opponent. He flipped his blade over so that he hit with the blunted edge across his back. As he fell Lennox moved forward behind him. He needed to end this now. With Jearox’s rage surging from within and dealing with his own raw emotions, his trip to Corele’s statue brought up his own guilt and shame and then this only propelled him into a near rage. A blood lust that Lennox knew was his own but also was not. The Dreadlord’s tainted memories drew on these emotions.

Lennox watched for a moment the defeated man lie on the ground, motionless but for the exception of breathing. He took the time to not only assess the situation, but to replace the emotional stopper on his rage. Thoughts of Corele and her absence is what finally helped him regain control of Jearox's blood thirst.

“It’s time you put your balls back between your legs. Accept your shame. Learn from it and move on. “


Lennox put his sword back in its sheathe as he turned to walk away. His practice was finished and he had other things to be about.

“Do not get back up again to raise your sword against me or channel, Asha'man Kojima, or I will break you. The M’hael will not save you from me.“