Thicket Duel

"A Mylese Warrior hurled himself out from the brush upon his foe. However, the Turian was prepared, his sword brandished. He lifted his shield. The Turian's muscles tensed as he anticipated a blow from his combatant. This duel might be challenging. The woods were dense, and the path was narrow. It would be difficult to defend effectively. It would be even more difficult to land a mortal strike.

The road to Kjúris was perilous, to be sure, but to encounter a Mylëman this far east was hardly commonplace. In fact it was unheard of. Mylë was as far across the Sea of Nuem as Turia was to the west coast of this land. Something was clearly out of place, and the Turian knew it.

Their swords rang. The clash sent sparks into the air. The Turian tried to identify his attacker, but his faceplate almost obscured his entire face. Why was he attacking? The Turian's curiosity began to grow into frustration. He lunged forward with a stab.

The Mylese swordsman parried, but allowed the Turian to momentarily pin him against a tree with his shield. The Turian caught a glimpse of his eyes, and immediately recognized their amber-gold hue.

The Turian went white. This was not their first encounter.

'It can't be,' he stammered. 'This can't be!' "

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