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Hunted - Part III

That was not the only thing red, either. Red began to form on the edges of Tarik's vision, and the Dark Elf knew that in a few moments, he was going to fall unconscious. And he knew, without a doubt, that he wouldn't wake up from it.

Tarik struggled to look away from his leg, straining his eyes to see what had thrown him into the air. A large rock stuck itself out of the ground, right where Tarik had been on the road just a few seconds before. The man who looked vaguely of Northern descent was holding the axe up in a raised position. Tarik guessed that the Great Axe must also be enchanted and able to control Earth. Just bloody great, Tarik thought. Not only did he get a maniac that could paralyze him, there was also another man who could bury him alive!

"Nice work, Biziel," Kharith applauded, the claws disappearing into the sleeves of his gilded robe. Biziel grinned, but it was half-hearted; Tarik guessed it had been more of a thoughtless attack than a planned one. Well, that was good for Tarik, at least. If this Biziel didn't know how to control his powers well, perhaps Tarik could finish him off...But that still left Kharith. Kharith seemed not to notice Biziel's discomfort, instead looking at the wounded Dark Elf spilling his life out onto the desert.

"See, Tarik? I warned you that it was futile to run from us. Does it please you that you've made it this far?" It was small talk, to be sure. Kharith was just building up the suspense. He thought that Tarik couldn't help himself, now. Couldn't protect himself. Oh, how wrong Kharith was. In his earlier training, Tarik had been sure to remember how to fight if he was ever wounded - and what an accomplishment to actually have been able to master that! Still, it depended on how badly his leg was broken. Putting any strain on it would cause more damage, though, so the Dark Elf decided it was better not to try.

Realizing that he had made no response, Tarik quickly replied, "More than you know," to the assassin. Then he realized that in order to defend himself he needed a weapon. The scimitar he had had when he was knocked into the air must have been thrown a few yards from where he was. Tarik looked over his shoulder, and quickly spotted it, sand covering part of the blade. Carefully and without trying to attract notice to himself, Tarik began to scoot backwards toward the scimitar.

Kharith chuckled darkly at Tarik's comment. "I swear, Tarik, you are one of the few people that annoy me. Raev is probably the worst. Oh, you didn't know?" Kharith frowned at Tarik's surprised expression. The Dark Elf had thought that Kharith and Raev had been good friends - they were when they had attacked the palace where Tarik had lived in his other life...

"After our first brief scuffle, Raev joined the band of rogues that you escaped with," Kharith told him, coming closer this time. Tarik could hear a brief, muted sound in the air, like what you would get when a storm raged around you. Guessing that Kharith was charging up, Tarik began to go faster. Biziel, following Kharith, saw this and murmured something. Kharith's head whipped around, then looked at Tarik. He laughed.





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