"You fellows are too big a problem to ignore," said the figure. "Незначителна бързина." Instantly, this figure's speed increased dramatically, as if he was no longer hindered by the heavy armor and the shifting sands caused by the fierce battle. "You have slaughtered too many of my brothers, you hands are stained with the blood of your victims, D'Arvak demands your blood. Know that before your death you have had the honor of meeting your end at the spear Hakravan of the Bloody Sands. Let your blood whet my spear as to let the tribe flourish."
"It is you who are in the wrong here. You wreak havoc without care. These people have livelihoods of their own, how can you with good conscious tear it down before their eyes?"
"It has always been this way!" roared Hakravan. "We need these supplies more than you can fathom. You come here, slaughtering my men, spouting tales of righteousness and glory, yet in those actions you take the livelihoods from our tribe as well. You are two-faced, one who holds a standard and glorifies it, yet at the same time fails to meet their own banner."
At this point, they had gone within striking distance of each other, each with their own weapons, ready to engage in combat.
"How do we fail to meet our standards? You claim that your tribe needs these supplies more, yet you have not considered an honest living. My apologies, but I cannot condone such actions," replied Aadam.
"Fool! Your ignorance astounds me! You have the fucking gall to think that we have not tried! You have the bloody face to come up here and say that to my damn face! The Zuloasta have tried! We have tried and tried! When someone strikes you will you not strike back? Eh? You know nothing of our hardships. Come, let us fight, for words shall not get us anywhere, let our metal do the talking," roared Hakravan furiously.
Hakravan rushed forward jabbing his spear towards Aadam. Steeping to the side in order to avoid the deadly point, he was immediately sent to the ground as the butt of the spear swept downwards, sweeping him off his feet.
Rolling aside, Aadam narrowly avoided Hakravan's thrust, in retaliation he swept Hakravan off of his feet as well with a well timed kick, upsetting his balance. Immediately, they rolled away from each, picking themselves off of the ground. Aadam readied his blade again, charging forwards, "Като вятър," his speed kicked up and his sword started beating away at Hakravan's defenses.
Enduring the blows, Hakravan then shouted "отблъсне." Instantly, Aadam was sent flying back, buried inside one of the many dunes.
"You see your strength pitiful warrior, the strong thrive while the weak suffer. Such is the way. You come here spouting off about righteousness yet, we are the oppressed are we not. Your delusions of grandeur have led you to your end. Rejoice, for your end shall be heralded by my spear."
Aadam had been blinded by the sand falling on top of him, blinking rapidly his vision began to clear. Groping for his sword, he began to grasp the handle when he began to feel the air shift around him, and glanced up, seeing the spear darting towards him. In that moment he felt despair, a dark, encompassing fear swallowed him as he screamed in terror.
Suddenly, just as Aadam was about to meet his demise the spear miraculously stopped, blocked by an ethereal light. Frank and Lydia rushed towards Aadam, here to join the fight.
"You are outnumbered, out-gunned Hakravan, you know that you can't defeat us now, Your men lay defeated and broken, is it not better to end such bloodshed," questioned Frank.
"I know when I must concede defeat, he turned around, gathering his men. Know that this is not the end," replied Hakravan.
After Hakravan and his men had departed Aadam turned to face Frank "Why did you let him go? We could've over powered him now that you are here."
"Although we may be fine, we have to keep in mind the task, we have been assigned to guard the caravan, nothing more nothing less. Besides, although it may not look like it, Hakravan is truly a good man. His actions demand respect."
"What do you mean," questioned Aadam.
"His tribe, the Zuloasta, is one of those that contributes to the Avogardigians. For years, the tribes of the Swynden have been oppressed by the kingdoms, deemed barbaric. They are treated less than human, you know. In cities they cannot obtain jobs, houses, goods, etc, on the mere basis of origin. They try but, the empires are stronger, they oppress them. The desert is harsh. They lose more and more each year. They only resorted to that sort of life to survive."
"It still doesn't make it right," replied Aadam.
"The line between right and wrong is a fine one. It merely depends on perspective. Come on now. We got traveling to do," said Frank.
They walked back to the caravan, retrieving the dead so that they may be honored when they reached the city, They discovered that several of the carriages had been looted during the battle. Acceptable losses. Checking on the wounded they came upon Jeremy.
"You doing fine there?" asked Frank.
"Damn bandie got my shoulder, won't be able to fight for a long time," replied Jeremy, grateful for his concern.
"It should be all right from now on, the threats should be clear from here on out," said Aadam, jumping into the conversation. "At least from what I've read."
"Glad you're doing good here buddy, all right, we gotta head on out now. Get some rest," said Frank.
"See? I told you, big ol softie ain't he?" joked Jeremy as they were heading out, not bothering to turn around Frank said "I heard that."
"You can't hurt me, remember, wounded?" retorted Jeremy.