Chrysalis

Grey and his opponent, the High Blade Kooranon Balta, studied each other, their experience and observation Skills provided a constant stream of information as they continued to feel each other out. Using his rank five Keen Eye, Grey could see every muscle twitch, every exhalation of breath in excruciating detail. The golgari wouldn't be able to twitch a toe without the wolf-folk being able to tell him how many millimeters he'd shifted it. Not just sight, every sense was pushed to the limit of his ability, Skills and his natural advantages as one of the folk ensuring that nothing took place outside of his notice.

Experience was what allowed him to filter that information, to disregard that which wasn't important. He could smell the ant pheromones that blanketed this tunnel, smell the blood and ichor of those that had fallen beyond the gate before him, but ignored those, all that mattered was the battle.

He centered himself as the great warriors of the Folk were trained to do, balanced his mind against his instinct to find the proper equilibrium. Almost reflexively, so ingrained was the technique, Grey began to circulate the mana inside his body around his center, creating a flow that empowered his movements and hastened the absorption of energy throughout his body. It had been so long since he'd fought in a high level duel such as this. The old familiar feeling had begun to stir in his veins, the impression of being on the hunt. The wolf within him had begun to bare its fangs and he allowed the sensation to wash over him, acknowledging its presence but he did not embrace nor dismiss it. Equilibrium was his safe harbor.

The High Blade mastered his breathing and once more began to exert his aura. Powerful and domineering, it swept through the air and attempted to crush down on the wolf-kin, intimidating and robbing him of strength. As before, he did not resist it, but instead let it pass through him. Such childish tricks were a waste of precious energy in a duel and would have no effect on him. The fact that the High Blade insisted on attempting it displayed a lack of experience.

"You will yield to me, beast," Balta said, confidence dripping from his large frame. "How many of your kind have fallen to my blade already? You are just another notch and you don't even know it."

Anger flared in Grey's heart. The war between the new and old races of Pangera never really ended and conflict between the Empire of Stone and the Folk continued to this day. There was a chance that Balta had slain his people in the depths, it was true, but most likely it was just a taunt. He allowed the anger to sputter out. This was not the time for anger.

"You are a pup," Grey said calmly, "whining and snuffling in the dirt, waiting for the alpha to teach you the ways of the world. What are you waiting for? I'm right here."

think or ponder, no consideration for the next move. It was a realm of highly trained reflexes so fast and automatic that an argument could be made the brain wasn't involved at all. Grey threw himself into

his claws as the Skill activated and manifested in the air. Enhanced by the rotation of his body, the five jagged cuts streaked through the air at a speed faster than even his eyes could follow. As predicted, Balta had

lips to peel back in a savage snarl, baring his fangs. His body continued its rotation, completing the full spin in an instant whereupon he slammed both feet down and charged. Mana swirled in the air and within his body as his hands fell inward to rest at his hips. Dash. DASH. DASH. Three times in less than a second he executed a perfect micro dash, bringing his speed up to a

Pierce the Wall!

each claw unified in a single fang that shot outward from his thrust

as golden streaks of metal on his skin slithered together toward the point of impact. Just

living stone blade and he used it to send a wide defensive slash toward the beast as he freed himself from the stone. Contrary to his opponent’s expectations, Grey did not choose to follow up on his advantage, instead, he chose to be patient. Eyes wide, he studied everything. How hurt was the golgari? How effective had his strike been? At the same time

Balta dropped back to the tunnel floor, Grey flexed his hands and shook out his legs,

to your

the light glittered

things, beast. Naturally the best ore is destined to fall

weakness his pupils dilated and the breath caught in his throat for the briefest of moments, then it passed and he was in control once more. It was unfortunate, but in that moment he lost control of his bloodlust, the murderous aura of the hunter had surged out of his body and judging by

stretched across Grey's face as he accepted the rising tide of