Karp
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Chapter 104
🕑 Added 2024-11-12 20:34:28 +0000 UTCAfter some quick lovemaking, Varrus and Syra were returning to the meeting room when he spotted Nightsong and Lor'Themar engaging in a spar out in the courtyard.
The pair of generals were moving with fluidity and grace that Varrus only hoped he could match one day.
Lor'Themar, with his twin blades, and Nightsong, with her sword and shield were testing one another in terms of pure skill.
No mana coated their weapons, or exploded outward as a manifestation of their energy.
All they focused on was precision, footwork, and timing.
Watching two of the most accomplished melee specialists in the kingdom spar was extraordinary, and made Varrus realize Nightsong had likely gone easy on him when they had their duel.
As the intensity of their fight picked up, Varrus had a better understanding of why Lor'Themar in the original timeline was picked as the regent lord of Quel'Thalas whilst Kael when traipsing to Outland.
The old man had skills!
“I should be down there.” Syra held onto her bustersword's handle, and looked towards the courtyard in envious eagerness.
“Then we shall.” Varrus gripped Syra in a side hug.
“No, wait-” Syra embarrassedly got out, but was cut off as Varrus Blinked them both into the courtyard.
Lor'Themar glanced at them for a moment, but Nightsong had no such distractions, and clobbered the Ranger General in the chin for his trouble.
Lor'Themar regained his balance, and swept his blades at her knees, only for it to be a feint, and knee her in the midsection.
Both fighters grinned at one another, and Lor'Themar wiped his chin, removing a dribble of blood.
Varrus narrowed his eyes at the seeming comradery, but was quick to draw his sword when Lor'Themar suddenly lunged at him.
A second later, Varrus heard numerous clashes of steel on steel, indicating that Syra and Nightsong were going at it as well.
Varrus fumbled with his sword, unprepared for the sudden development, and only just got his sword up in time to deflect one sword, then catch the flat of Lor'Themar's other blade to his knee.
Stumbling forward, Varrus was forced to roll forward to evade a cross slash, and caught a glancing blow to his shin for his troubles.
His leg stung, but Varrus grit his teeth and began to analyze Lor'Themar's form.
During all this conflict, Varrus's one-handed skill had risen to 73, and with it, his ability to comprehend one-handed weaponry had drastically increased.
As a result, when he watched, and physically experienced Lor'Themar fight, he had a baseline understanding behind the how's and why's of his actions, and fighting style.
From his POV, Lor'Themar was taking this much more seriously than when they first sparred, and had begun to demonstrate stances and moves in between a flurry of slices, stabs, and cuts.
Varrus locked swords with the Ranger General, and caught him looking at Nightsong's behind.
“Your mother is a truly skilled woman. Your swift learning speed with the blade must come from her.” Lor'Themar complimented him.
“You are as transparent as a glass of water.” Varrus rolled his eyes in reply.
“Am I now? Then I suppose we both can replace the stench of the plague with our sweat this fine day..” Lor'Themar grinned at Varrus, and shoved him backwards.
Varrus squinted his eyes at Lor'Themar, yet the damned old man kept up his grin, and winked at him like an uncle that watched a nephew discover the joys of the internet for the first time.
Sure, Varrus was getting busy with his wife, but when Lor'Themar said it like that, it made Varrus feel dirty. It didn't help that the handsome old man was very clearly making moves on his mom.
“Ah, that sour expression is quite something. Where has the typical Vandercross arrogance gone, I wonder?” Lor'Themar taunted as he began to dodge each of Varrus's swipes at the last second, and had refused to strike back.
“Just. Just stop talking, damned old man, and fight me already!” Varrus seethed, and barely kept himself from yelling.
“Let's see how your two on two skills are.” Lor'Themar replied, then suddenly he turned his back to Varrus, and blocked an attack from Syra.
‘Chance!’ Varrus thought to himself, and rushed at Lor'Themar's back, only to catch a shield to the chest.
Feeling the wind go from his lungs, Varrus tumbled sideways for a second before he righted himself, and sprang to his feet.
Preparing himself to meet Nightsong, he was surprised to see Syra getting double teamed, and being forced back.
He was about to join the frey when a boisterous laugh echoed in the courtyard.
“Don't worry bestie, I'm here for you!”
The shout was followed up by a thump and raised of dust as the green, muscular Troll dropped down from the second story, and ran at Nightsong, club in hand.
Jan'alai had a wider grin on her face as she smashed into Nightsong's shield.
“The King's paramour. How novel.” Nightsong muttered, and examined Jan'alai curiously.
“Stop disrespecting Syra, ya hear! She's a good, honest woman who loves Varrus with all her heart!” Jan'alai angrily remarked, and used her extra reach to snake a leg behind Nightsong with the intent to trip her up.
However, the ancient warrior replied by stabbing her sword into Jan'alai's thigh, halting her in her tracks.
“You go too far, General!” Kael's voice thundered from the second story.
Powerful energies twirled around the King, and the air became thick with the tang of mana.
“Reeelax, Goldilocks! She's just playing rough! Two can play at that game!” Jan'alai shouted back at Kael, then dropped her club, and used both her hands to hold Nightsong in place.
The Forest Troll then began to headbash Nightsong on the forehead repeatedly.
Kael levitated down to stand beside Varrus, and had a conflicted look of fury, pride, and awe mixed on his face.
As for Varrus, he too was surprised by Jan'alai's ferocity.
It just went to show that no matter the race, or time lived, a Hero was a Hero. It suddenly made sense to Varrus how the Trolls could prove to be such a throne in the Elf and Humans’ sides.
In a way, Jan'alai was like a jinchuriki from Naruto, except instead of a tailed beast residing in her, she had a Wild God known as a Loa.
Although it was an aggressive maneuver on Jan'alai's part, Nightsong was not using any magic, or the enchantments in the gear. So to Varrus, Jan'alai had a very powerful natural edge over most people-even Elves-when it came to physical attributes.
Loud smacks resounded in the courtyard as forehead met forehead, yet Nightsong was smiling!
In fact, the Undead General released her hold on her sword, and gave back everything Jan'alai delivered with interest!
Jan'alai stumbled backward from a concussion, and ripped the sword from her thigh. Her wound rapidly healed within seconds, and the Troll began to slash at the Elf.
Nightsong responded by picking up the club, and the two engaged in a furious melee.
Varrus and Kael were standing on the sideline, shocked by the sudden turn of events.
Glancing at Syra, Varrus saw that she was none too happy, having her thunder seemingly stolen like that, and was taking it out on Lor'Themar. However, the two were evenly matched, and his wife couldn't get the upper hand on Lor'Themar no matter how much she tried.
They were all so focused on their individual battles, that Varrus took the opportunity to cast Shroudwalk on himself, and flanked Lor'Themar.
‘Attack me without warning, openly flirt with my mother. Hmm, we'll see about that!’ Varrus huffed, and thought to himself.
The next time Lor'Themar was forced to reposition in his fight with Syra, Varrus placed an Acceleration Rune right where he was going to land.
Lor'Themar's eyes went wide as his momentum was multiplied by a huge margin, and he was flung face first into a nearby wall.
He hardened his body with mana, and took the hit like a champ, but he was out of the fight when Varrus immediately cast Paralyze on him whilst he was still embedded in the wall.
Varrus withheld laughter as the old man was stuck in a pose with his arms extended outward. Lor'Themar looked like he was trying to make a snow angel with the castle bricks!
“If you're going to cheat, then so am I.” Kael witnessed everything, and muttered to himself.
The young King glanced at the spot where a sword had pierced Jan'alai a moment ago, and narrowed his eyes.
He began to cast a spell, however, both Jan'alai and Syra were pressed into the ground by Nightsong's superior skills. She then looked Kael dead in the eye.
Nightsong didn't say anything, but her posture was provocative in its nature, the silence threatening more so than anything words could be.
Varrus recalled his initial meeting with Nightsong, as well as the heated conversation half an hour ago. The General seemed to have some beef with the current political system, and the Sunstriders specifically.
If he didn't step in, this kerfuffle could transform into another civil war.
Picking up his sword, Varrus hesitated for a second, then cut himself along the chest.
“Oh, owe, Lor'Themar take it easy, we are only sparring!” Varrus dramatically staggered forward, and wore a grief filled face. He let the very real pain add to his sell.
Nightsong dropped the club, and practically teleported to Varrus's side. Her expression was fraught with concern and worry.
“Varrus-” Syra began, but washed arrived a beat later, and was shushed by Nightsong, who was running a green glowing hand up and down Varrus's midsection.
The thin crimson line spread across Varrus's chest healed within seconds of Nightsong's ministrations.
While this was going on, Kael was red in the face on the sideline, and his mana was slightly erratic.
As someone who had witnessed Varrus paralyzing Lor'Themar, Kael obviously knew what was going on, and angrily stepped forward, magic still lighting up his fingertips.
Varrus desperately waved at Jan'alai, and nudged her with his telekinesis.
The Forest Troll stood up from a healed concussion, and moved to return Nightsong's sword.
“That. Was. AWESOME! I knew you were the best bard in town, but who knew your mom could kick ass!” Jan'alai laughed at Varrus, then nodded at Nightsong.
“I am fortunate to have such great people as friends and family.” Varrus humbly bowed, and discreetly nudged Kael in the side.
“True! We girls are the best, eh?” Jan'alai wrapped her twin pythons around Nightsong and Syra by the shoulders, her infectious grin made even the two serious Elven ladies smile slightly.
As a result of the back and forth, Kael had lowered his hands, and Nightsong looked away.
Crisis averted.
Varrus sighed in relief, and watched on in amusement as Jan'alai practically dragged Nightsong and Syra back into the meeting room.
Her loud voice boomed in the halls, and lewd jokes unfit for children's ears graced the once vibrant halls.
As the sound of their laughter became distant, Varrus placed a hand on Kael's shoulder, and cast a shroud of Muffle around them to keep their conversation private.
“I feel you, buddy. It's tough to watch the woman you love go through strife, or be harmed while you can't do anything about it.” Varrus spoke in a comforting tone.
“...you are right, my friend. But your mother irks me to no end. She commands a force of over 30,000 and I hear murmurs of her from the rank and file soldiers. To them, she is a legend made real. When they speak of her ability to polymorph, to seamlessly command thousands whilst fighting…it makes me. It makes me jealous. Furthermore, I worry that she may cause civil strife. I worry that she will drive our friendship apart, that you will go against me.” Kael said wistfully as he stared off into the distance with a complicated expression upon his face.
“Kael…” Varrus stared at his one and only true friend, speechless.
“I do not know if you are aware of Nightsong, but my father's memoirs detail the time before we landed in Quel'Thalas. After the sundering of the world when the Well of Eternity exploded, new continents were forming, and life was as cheap as a handful of grain.
We once numbered in the tens of millions, but had been reduced to a number even less than we are today. It was a time of chaos just as, if not more brutal than we are undergoing now…and Nightsong was the General that everyone looked to.
Her strategy and charisma were second to none. If my father's notes are to be believed, you may be her son, but she has been dead for thousands of years. Which means you must have been placed in stasis or hidden for some purpose.
There is a plot surrounding you and me, and I don't like it. Nightsong is suspicious, and I fear for my people, for my love, and for the future of our friendship.” Kael spoke seriously, and kicked some nearby rubble as he let out some pent up emotions.
“I understand your concerns. So long as you don't become a Fel addict, you can always count on me.” Varrus said in a joking manner, and punched Kael on the shoulder.
“This isn't a laughing matter. I'm trying to have a serious discussion here.” Kael frowned, and dodged a second follow up punch.
Varrus stopped what he was doing, and smiled at Kael.
“Look man, life is so serious. You have a kingdom and people to look after. I get that, and appreciate you sharing your concerns. I really do. But I am being serious, as long as you stay away from the Fel, I trust, and believe in you. You are a good person Kael, now help me keep watch.” Varrus said, then pulled out a paint can, and brush.
Kael stood in place mulling over his thoughts, then he looked up as he realized what was going on. He slapped his own forehead, yet couldn't help but chuckle.
As much as things had changed between them, as much as they had grown older and matured, some things would always stay the same.
Kael chuckled to himself as he watched the First Seat of the Convocation begin to paint a goofy picture all around Lor'Themar who was implanted on the wall.
Varrus, would always be Varrus. He would always be his friend.
