Shade nodded and he stood ready. “Very well.”
The Hand flapped his great wings. He flipped forward and landed directly in front of the Dark Elf. The Drakor spun around and swung hard.
Shade brought his dagger up to parry. Their blades met with a piercing clash. The Hand hacked and slashed, left then right, high then low, but every time Shade parried. The dragon-man brought his sword down in a powerful double-handed blow. The Dark Elf brought his blades up to block. Lewd’s Hand beat his great wings allowing him to transform his attack into a swift cross-slash.
Shade back-flipped. He felt the very tip of the Hand’s black sword graze his neck. The Dark Elf rubbed the cut. It was little more than a nick caused by shaving, but even a scratch in a duel of this caliber came at the price of pride. The Drakor’s coal black lips twisted into an arrogant grin. He chortled softly.
Shade frowned fiercely. He had fought many Drakor and he knew their ability to fly made them unpredictable and dangerous, but never had he dueled one who had mastered his aerial acrobatics to such a degree of skill. He knew he couldn’t allow the Hand’s ability to reverse his momentum in midair to throw him off. He had to regain control. The Dark Elf sprung forward unexpectedly.
Lewd’s Hand had been in the middle of his own maneuver. He had to twist sideways to evade Shade’s forward thrust. The recovery put him off balance and he landed flatly on his feet. The Dark Elf followed up with his offhand and stabbed at the Hand’s heart. The Drakor’s eyes widened. He had been baited and could not shirk the attack. He muttered the words of magic. He froze petrified. Shade delivered the deathblow, but his blade snapped in half.
Shade stepped back and realized what happened. A motionless statue stood before him. The Hand had turned himself to stone. ‘Accursed Maag’dorum Magic!’ Shade thought, ‘why didn’t I recognized it before?’ He did not allow his opponent a moment to dispel his magic and launch a counterattack. He whirled around and kicked the petrified Drakor in the stomach with a spinning back kick.
The statue hardly lifted, but tipped just enough to topple over and disappear into the sewage with a whopping plunk.
The Dark Elf discarded his broken dagger and retrieved a new one. He reinforced his stance and watched the rushing waters.
The Hand broke through the water’s surface and soared through the air. He flipped in midair, landed on the opposite walkway. He drew his whip. He raised his sword and cracked his whip in his offhand. He spread his great wings and leapt over the sewer canal landing wordlessly in front of the Dark Elf.
The Drakor snarled. His serpentine eyes twinkled darkly at his foe. Shade’s glowing yellow eyes burned in challenge and the assassins collided again.
The Dark Elf’s left dagger clashed with the black blade, but he kept his right dagger ready. The Hand cracked his whip. Shade cart-wheeled to the side just as the whip struck the ground. The Drakor brought his sword down in a savage downward slash. The Dark Elf had to bring both daggers up for parry.
Clash!
Shade back-flipped, but another whiplash caught him in the chin. The Dark Elf felt the dab of blood on his face. The Hand grinned, but then the smirk dropped away as he noticed the long abrasion across the back of his hand administered to him during Shade’s retreat. The Dark Elf grinned darkly as the wound bled far more fiercely. Droplets of dark Drakoran blood dribbled to the floor.
“You fight well, Hand,” said Shade, “but it won’t be enough.”
The Hand grimaced and swung his whip around his head.
Shade darted in for the opening, but the Hand struck. The Dark Elf dropped backward and evaded the blow. He tried for another opening, but the Hand struck again and again driving him backward. Shade ducked. He made one last attempt to find an opening. He clenched his teeth as the whip tore through his leather armor and bit down hard into his right shoulder. The Drakor yanked the whip out hard, tearing out flesh. The Dark Elf momentarily cried out in pain. Enraged, Shade threw his left dagger. The blade sunk deep into the Hand’s left thigh.
Lewd’s Hand groaned. He spread his great wings. He lifted off and flew down the corridor disappearing into the gloom. Shade dropped to one knee and stuffed a cloth under his leather armor to blot the bleeding. He did not dare risk bandaging himself now. He rose slowly. The pain burned in his veins, but he used it to feed his adrenaline. He withdrew another dagger and waited.
The Hand roared fiercely, his guttural voice bounding off the walls of the tunnel, from somewhere far down the pitch black corridor. The Dark Elf snorted in amusement, but then the sewers went suddenly silent.
Shade waited. A draft blew his long black hair across his dark features. His night vision pierced the darkness. He waited for the Hand to reappear.
Lewd’s Hand reemerged from the gloom and soared towards Shade.
The Dark Elf readied himself. He would have to strike quickly. Then just before the two assassins collided the Hand disappeared. He mysteriously reappeared behind Shade and kicked him from behind. Shade hit his head against the wall, but quickly recovered. He swung his blades up to block. The Drakor soared past him until he inexplicably disappeared once again.
The Dark Elf’s yellow eyes shifted nervously. How had Lewd’s Hand slipped past his guard? The dragon-men had no knowledge of shadow, cloak or teleportation spells. Shade set his back against a wall to limit his exposure.
Suddenly, the Hand dropped down right in front of him as if he had plummeted through the ceiling, but this time Shade was ready. He dodged the Drakor’s whip and parried the sword strike with his left dagger. He slashed just under the left shoulder plate, leaving a nasty gouge across his foe’s chest.
Lewd’s Hand groaned and flew backward. He cracked his whip again. The whip wrapped around Shade’s ankle and snapped tight. He pulled hard causing Shade to fall and took flight.
Shade felt himself pulled into the air. He dangled wildly from the whip as his head, shoulders and arms smacked against the foul seawater. The Dark Elf pulled up and tried to unravel the coil bound around his ankle, but he knocked into a canal wall. The impact swung him away before the momentum carried him back to the wall. He scraped along the course brick faces. His armor tore, his flesh scraped.
The extra weight forced the Hand to beat his wings low. Shade managed to grab hold of his carpal bone. He used the wing to pull himself up and swung hard. The pair spun into a barrel-roll, but Shade cut through the whip. He fell. He took a chunk of the Hand’s wing with him. The Dark Elf plunged into the drink. He saw the Drakor crash and skid down a walkway just before he went under.
Shade opened his eyes and looked around the dark murky water. He could barely see more than ten feet in front of him. The saltwater stung his wounds and blood plumed the water red around him. He saw four ghastly white humanoid forms swimming at him through the cloudy waters. Sharlak!
He realized he was still holding the hunk of the Hand’s wing. He pushed the grisly mass from him and slipped into Unseen form. He would be a fool to face them down here in their domain. He swam carefully away trying not to cause too much motion. He hadn’t made it more than ten feet when he had to resurface for air. He broke the surface quietly and looked around. There was no sign of Lewd’s Hand, but the Drakor would have lost his position as well.
Shade remained in Unseen form and slipped back underwater. He heard the sound of violent splashing and glanced back behind him. The Sharlak had reached the bait. He saw them squabbling over the small morsel. He continued on and felt along the wall hoping to find a ladder somewhere. He emerged at a four-way intersection. He saw a ladder thirty-six feet down the right canal and made for it.
He made it ten feet and checked behind him again. The Sharlak had stopped at the intersection and appeared to make sniffing motions in the water. He was alarmed when they turned his direction in unison.