The Lion and the Serpent - Chapter Ten: Winter

That sweet, delectable, mouth watering scent. Only once a year did its enchanting smell capture a man’s heart, stealing it away until he’d had his fill for the season. The winter veil roast goose, a man’s favourite meal of the year.

The singing in the garrison was boisterous and happy, Westbrook’s halls and corridors echoing with the songs of merriment and the festive occasion. Singing about battle, women, funny times, and of course drinking. Though they inevitably drank to singing too. The garrison mess hall was filled to the seams, as Disciples of light and their Arathorian friends pulled up every seat they could find to each of the giant food covered tables.

Flagons of mead being raised, songs and jokes for all, even cheering up the Arathorian feasters from their depression.

At the head of the main table by the garrisons stair case, sat the leading trio. With Aarian sat smiling and drinking, listening to the varied jokes and rhymes being thrown back and forth. Secondly sat Arador, to the left of Aarian, quietly sipping his mead with a subtle smirk crossing his lips. And lastly on Aarian’s right sat Seiken, his arms folded, neither eating nor drinking. Trollbane sat singing along quietly, and even then with some restraint. All three sat without their armour, in simple cloth shirts and their respective tabards. Though true to their Warrior nature, both Arador and Seiken kept their swords at their sides, the mighty Silver-strand at Seiken’s, and a similar crafted blade at Arador’s. And of course, Seiken was flanked at his sides and on his back by his thick Lion fur cloak, its huge paws latched to his shoulders.

An almost awkward silence sat between Arador and Seiken, as neither sort to speak to the other, both knowing that their mission was stuck in a dead end. Speaking would only make it more obvious, more a lost cause.

“Come now! why the long faces? Surely you two can think of something to have a smile about, you can’t fool me with your silence!” chuckled Aarian, looking between the two, smirking and grinning. “Surely you can at least think of some mighty battles you fought? You Arathorian’s do like battle, don’t you?” the paladin finished, smirking slyly.

Arador and Seiken looked to him, brows arched and faces turned to expressions of bemused intrigue.

“I suppose, there’s always tales of my dashing deeds in the face of impossible odds, like that time Maelmoor tried to save the Naaru in Silvermoon...” chuckled Arador, his grin wide, his mood obviously improved as he took a deep swig of his frothy mead.

Oh is that so...

“What do you mean dashing? That Tauren, Kaile, kicked you twenty feet down the ramp way to the tower!” coughed Seiken, a wry smile across his lips as he grabbed his own drink to sip.

“Eh, tha lead up to that was dashing at least! Unlike you, who he whacked out a window with a mace! Fell 30 feet into a bush ya did!” replied Arador with his typical sharp wit; Aarian chuckled lightly as the two bickered, the music and singing continuing in the background.

“Beside the point, that Tauren hurts... on the plus side, i could at least swim when we crashed into Westfall’s coast during the civil war! Unlike the master ex-sailor here!” Seiken retorted, a triumphant grin on his face as gulped down some mead.

“Ack! I can swim! Not my fault you pointed us through a storm, least i didn’t think it was a bright idea letting Dorik try to blow tha gates into Hammerfall up, resultin in alerting half tha town!” replied Arador, again quickly, the argument becoming a little less comical and a little more serious.
Seiken snorted, narrowing his only eye with a subtle but slightly serious smirk.

“Well excuse me for trying, Mr ‘burrow into a jail cell’ when we broke into Orgrimmar on Halloween!” cried Seiken, bashing on the table with his mug, spilling some of the mead as he chuckled. Aarian chuckled along still, looking back and forth between them as it went on.

“Pfft, you’re just jealous i shot three Orc’s with one arrow...” Arador winked, smiling.

Oh it’s a battle of skills he wants...

“You’re jealous i cut down five while you did that...” Seiken muttered with a sly mocking tone, that cunning laughing grin appearing across his face.

Arador stared quietly back at the prince across the table, his blue hawk eyes narrowing as they did when he became a little annoyed.

“And so could of anyone else... a dashing knight such as myself makes it look good, numbers don’t really matter... I’m still ‘Champion’ Remember” Arador smirked a moment as he too muttered in reply, his face turning a tad sour before returning to a straight face. Aarian had stopped laughing, looking between the pair with worry at what was quickly becoming less of a joke and more of a nasty argument.

You going to stand for that...?

Quiet you...

Seiken sat up straight in his chair, placing his mug firmly on the table just as Arador did the same. “That a challenge, Hawkeye?” snarled the prince, half baring his teeth.

Arador raised his head a little, signifying some degree of defiance and status. The whole room had by now gone completely silent, Antirius had stopped playing his flute, the singing had ended and all eyes were on the pair staring each other down. All the while Aarian watched on with shock.

“What if it is... Lion?” scoffed Arador, snarling in return, his stare filled with mild contempt.

It happened quickly, very quickly indeed. Fast enough for anyone who wasn’t watching or positioned right to of missed it. The lightning flash of silver sparking together, crashing against one another over the table. Aarian’s face turning to one of horror, as he peered at the two Arathorian’s who had drawn their blades with phenomenal reflexes. Neither had moved from their seat, and still sat perfectly still, except for their sword arms extended outward at each other.

“We had best settle this like men then, i suppose?” murmured Seiken, his face completely still, his eyes locked with Arador’s.

Aarian raised his hands slowly, gesturing the pair to cease what they were doing. “Now now, please, why draw swords over such a silly argument?” the paladin pleaded, though nobody seemed to heed him.

“Indeed, we had...” murmured Arador back, nodding once, a signal to begin.

Almost immediately the pair stood then leapt onto the table, pushing their crossed blades closer so that they now pressed against each other at the hilt, the two warriors stood eye to eye. Those watching on leapt out of their seats too, standing some feet back in surprise; at least the disciples looked surprised. The Arathorian’s watched with grins and smiles, anticipating a glorious clash.

“Smash his head in Seiken!” yelled Antirius from beside them, cheering the prince on. Seiken grinned immediately, pushing hard against Arador, throwing him off the table with raw strength. Though, it was obviously not going to be so simple. Arador landed on the first step of the stairway with perfect balance, even taking a mocking bow, winking at his opponent.

“Show him whose champion Arador!” yelled Trohad from the far side of the room, sticking his fist in the air in support.

With that, Seiken took a deep breath. Thrusting his chest forward and his mouth open he let loose a booming roar that echoed throughout the whole garrison, the lion was not in the mood for mockery. The crowd shivered and looked to Arador, who stood ready, unflinching.

Seiken made the first move, leaping forward and off the table, his sword aimed downward to impale. Arador moved easily up a few more steps with a simple backward leap of his own as the Lion landed where he had just been standing, impaling his sword partly into the wood of the steps. The Hawk thrust his blade forward, an attempt to strike Seiken before he could raise his guard. The Lion span to his right, prepared and ready, yanking his weapon free so he could strike the incoming attack aside.

“Too slow old man” growled Seiken with a grin.

“Then I’ll show you some speed...” Arador grinned, swinging his sword downward, and then slashing diagonally mid attack with tremendous pace. Seiken blocked, though only just in time. Arador repeated the attack, with various movements, flares, spins, parry’s, dodge’s and twists as he slowly moved backward up the staircase, Seiken shortly in tow. The Lion struggled on, unused to such a pace, barely holding his own as he fought to block and parry the bombardment of narrowly avoidable attacks.

Aarian continued trying to reason with the pair, who had now reached the middle of the stairs.

“Please! The both of you! Settle this some other way! There's no reason to fight!” yelled the paladin over and over, though neither of the warriors listened. The crowd followed them, watching with determined interest while Aarian’s plea’s went unheeded.

Seiken leapt back a step, unpredicted by Arador who nearly fell forward from all his hasty momentum. The attacks ceased a moment, while the two stepped slowly off the stairs and onto the next floor, blades still aimed at one another but a short distance between them.

“You’ll need to work on your speed Hawkeye... i barely broke a sweat” mocked Seiken with a wicked grin, his back to the closest door atop the stairs. Arador stood with his back to the opposite doorway.

Arador growled as he glanced around his surroundings, eyeing the doors, the stair railing and array of weapons upon their racks. He was considering his options.

“Let us try something else then shall we lad?” snarled the Hawk, bolting forward to make a shallow and ultimately deadly upward slash.

Seiken was prepared, making a similar reflexive strike but from above. The two swords collided once more, but with crushing strength that sent sparks and the singing of vibrating metal humming through the hall. As soon as the sound and vibration of the clash ended, the pair seemed to mirror each other as they poured all their strength into throwing powerful strikes at each other. Blocking, dodging, parrying, pushing, striking, elbowing and thrusting. This time though, Seiken moved backward, and into a side corridor by the door closest to them.

The momentum and mood of the fight changed once more, what had been speed, and then brute strength had now become willpower and determination. The crushing strikes had stopped, and given way to the pair using whatever they could muster.

The crowd by now was chasing them up the stairs, and about to come through the doorway too, but just as Aarian was about to run through, Seiken was slammed back first into it by Arador. The door slammed shut, locking itself.

“Quickly, find another way to watch them!” exclaimed one knight, while Aarian looked around in confusion and panic.
“Mad! Your all going mad!” exclaimed Aarian, as he ran back downstairs.

Slowly but surely, the two combatants had worked their way into one of the towers, parrying and stabbing, dodging and ducking, slashing and grabbing. Sweat began to pour down their brows, evidence of the sheer effort both poured into trying to best the other.

“Keep up lion boy! You’ll die of a heart attack if you don’t get more exercise!” laughed Arador as he turned away and ran up the stairs laughing. Seiken roared loudly in his usual angry fashion, chasing him up the steps and onto the top floor of the tower. As he reached the top, he saw only the open door to the ramparts of the garrison, with Arador neither to be seen or heard.

Compose yourself... breathe, be calm...

Stop messing around and let me help you, will you? We can finish him sooner...

I told you to be quiet... Loa

Slowly he stepped forward, approaching the door, seeing the outside world and the rampart beyond it. The gentle fall of snow had begun in the forest, though it did not settle. Stepping out from under the arch-way, he was blinded immediately by the fresh morning glare of the sun from just above the tree line.

No sooner had he covered his face did he realise.

Trap...

Thrusting the side of his sword upward with his right hand, Seiken blocked his head and body. Though he could not see, he knew what was about to happen just as he felt the powerful stroke of a sword against his own.

His eyes refocused, Seiken turned to look up, and onto the roof. There stood Arador, raising his sword for another strike, with the sun at his back. The blow came down but was stopped again, but before Arador could pull away to swing the next stroke, Seiken Pushed forward, and hard. The Hawk leapt back two steps, perfectly balanced, as the Lion pounced one step forward and onto the tiles of the garrisons roof.

The snow fell gently around and on them, as they circled each other, weapons at the ready. Arador kept his blue hawk eyes locked on Seiken, holding his head high like a bird of prey circling for the kill. Seiken stared back in turn, his fiery brown eyes looking back with ferocious rage, silently waiting like a lion on the prowl.

The sound of men running around below the keep’s main gate echoed faintly on the wind. Aarian and the others were scrambling outside to see if they could catch a glimpse of the battle, the cheering and plea’s to stop continuing. With the two combatants each compliantly stopping at the side of the roof, everyone could now watch events unfold.

Turning to each other, they both presented their weapons, holding them in their combat stances. Not a word was spoken, only a silent thirst for battle was obvious.

After an eerie few moments, the snow still falling gently, the pair charged each other, their blades colliding once more. Parrying, slashing, ducking, diving, kicking, punching, elbowing, kneeing, jabbing, twisting, turning they fought. Minutes passed as they chipped away at each other without end.

Unlocking their blades from a crossed position, they each jumped back a step, growling. No sooner had their feet stopped did they step forward again, each roaring with infinite battle rage. But then a curious thing happened. Both dropped their weapons mid swing.

The crowd below gasped, as faces turned from shock and awe, to confusion. The pair embraced and hugged, patting each other on the back. Laughing, like old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a decade.

“Bah, ya nearly had me on the stairs old man, i need to work on my pace!” chuckled Seiken, still hugging his friend.

Arador laughed in return, patting his friend on the back as he pulled away, holding both their hands up together for all to see. The small crowd cheered, with Aarian laughing in relief.

“And i need to work on my power attacks, you nearly threw me up the stairs at one point Lion-boy!” laughed Arador, letting Seiken’s hand fall free.
“Aye, aye! Shame we had to worry Aarian like that, i think he honestly thought we were trying to kill each other” agreed the prince with a shrug kneeling down to pick up his sword.

Arador laughed heartily with his hand at his sides, “Aye, these southerners don’t know half about our ways do they...” finished Arador just as a dim shadow passed overhead, blocking the sun’s rays for a moment. His eyes bolted upward sharply, looking for whatever had passed over them. His face lit up immediately in awe as a strong howl of wind picked up, his hair flying around his face.

Seiken followed his eyes, looking upward to the south. There it flew, the great golden Hawk, Arador’s pet. Letting loose an eerie cry that could be heard for miles around, it circled through the snowy winds of Elwynn, above the tree’s, waiting.

Arador blinked with astonishment, while Seiken came to stand at his side, tilting his head with curious awe.

“Isn’t that the pet you sent out to find the...” Seiken began, but stopped, his heart racing just at the thought, the prospect, that which all his hope had rested on.

Arador opened his mouth to speak slowly...

“He found it...”