• "Come out, you damned Elf!" the young man yelled. Thymus’ face flushed but, unlike his companions, he hadn’t had anything to drink tonight.

    It had all started innocently enough. Just a friendly debate, between friends, on who was the greatest warrior in Eganti.

    Thymus had claimed the title and his brash young friends were inclined to agree. He had earned his way to Sergeant of the Watch at such a young age through the power of his sword arm, and had survived over twenty raids into the Lands of the Nomads.

    Everyone in the ale house had agreed , since none of them could think of a single warrior who could stand toe to toe with the youthful warrior.

    Everyone, but one scraggly, flea infested beggar. “I know someone who’s greater,” the old man laughed. “He has faced horrors that you and your men have never dreamed of. And he faced them head on, not in military ambushes. “

    Thymus stared hard at the old man, “If he is so great, why have I never heard of him?”

    The beggar shrugged, “Probably because he hasn’t been here long. But he’s well known in the west. In the Kingdoms of TreeHaven and the Fallen Stars, they sing songs about him nightly.”

    “Nightly, eh?” grinned the soldier at Thymus’ elbow. “Sounds more like a fairy story to me.”

    “No not a fairy,” the old man shook his head. “He’s of Elven blood, well mostly. It’s said that he has some human blood in him from a few generations back.”

    The soldiers all laughed. The Elves were known for their magik and their skills with the bow, but in a straight hand to hand fight, the slender elves found themselves outweighed and outmatched by the dominant strength of humans. Even half bloods were hardly a match for a warrior born.

    Thymus was grinning from ear to ear, looking back over his shoulder with a wink to his friends, “And what would this mighty fighter be called Old One?”

    “Bonzai DeathHammer,” the old man answered simply.

    The laughter died down quickly.

    Thymus looked to his companion at his elbow, “Have you heard of him, Seamus?” The soldier nodded,

    “Aye, they say that it was the DeathHammer that put down the great wyrm, Skaar.”

    “And they say he killed drove the Sandishar from the Crystal Kingdom,” called out another.

    Thymus wasn’t quite so cocky, but he wasn’t ready for his own accolades to stop, “I don’t care what they say. I’m not some mindless Snake-man or a decrepit dragon. And this isn’t the western kingdoms.” The big soldier strode over to face the old beggar, face to face, “When he stepped into Eganti, he became the second greatest warrior. I am the supreme in Eganti.”

    Mischief sparkled in the beggar’s eye, “Would you care to make a wager?”

    “Name your bet,” Said Thymus, his chest puffing with bravado.

    So it was that, after an exchange of terms and the coins being left with the barkeep, Thymus had wound up here. Standing outside an inn, screaming for Bonzai. “I’m not going to wait all night, Elf.” He bellowed. “Come out if you’re not a coward!”

    After a few moments a lit candle passed a window of the inn. Then the front door opened, and out stepped a figure covered in what appeared to be a cloak.

    This cant be him, thought Thymus. He stands almost as tall as I do.

    The figure threw off the blanket that had been wrapped about it’s shoulders. He not only was almost as tall as the Sergeant, but his shoulders were wide and powerfully built. Hair so blonde as to be almost white flowed across and down those shoulders, with just the hint of pointed ears peeking though the mane.

    Still, Thymus didn’t believe that this was Bonzai, until he saw the Black Crystal hammer in his grip. Bonzai was dressed in nothing more than a white flowing shirt and leather breeches, with boots up to his knees.

    It was quite the contrast to Thymus and his friends, who were all dressed in full plate armor.

    “Well?” he asked.

    “Well what?” said Thymus, still in shock by the sight of the fabled weapon.

    “Well, you called me out,” answered Bonzai. “What do you want?”

    “I’m here for a duel, Elf,” Thymus declared, drawing his sword.

    Bonzai sighed, “What did I do? Deflower your sister, sleep with your wife, or maybe I killed your father?”

    “I am here to prove that I, Thymus of the Watch, am the greatest of all warriors in Eganti.”

    Bonzai laughed, “Is that it? Oh, then I submit. You are the greatest in Eganti. By the Hells, you can be the greatest in all the world for all I care.”

    Thymus’ face reddened with anger, “I have had my honor besmirched. I will not leave without having it restored.”

    “I besmirched your honor?” Bonzai questioned.

    “No but it was done in your name, by a beggar.” Thymus huffed.

    Bonzai turned his back and started to walk back into the inn, “Then go get your honor back from the begger. I have nothing to do with it.”

    Thymus spit on the ground, “Cowardly Elven scum. Its not wonder that we have driven your people from their ancestral homes. You don’t have the backbone to even fight for your honor, much less your land.”

    Bonzai stopped and whirled on the Sergeant , “I would hold my tongue, Hoo-man.” He had purposefully mispronounced the word. It was an elven insult to the humans, expressing how close to savages they were.

    Thymus didn’t answer. Instead he dropped into a forward guard position.

    Bonzai shook his head and withdrew the hammer from his belt.

    “Let’s see what you can do, DeathHammer, “Thymus said, lunging forward to gauge his range. Bonzai responded by shifting his weight and bringing the head of the hammer up, to rest on his shoulder.

    Thymus slashed while Bonzai was transitioning but, again, the elf danced out of the way. Frustrated, the human lunged again, this time aiming for the soft flesh just above the breast bone.

    Bonzai moved to the left of the blade and brought the head of the hammer down on Thymus’ exposed arm. It was just a glancing blow, but the soldier stumbled back all the same.

    He quickly recovered and lunged again.

    Bonzai brought up the hammer and spun, swinging for Thymus’ head.

    Thymus ducked the blow, but it knocked the helm from his head. Then he twisted his body and, with his free hand, caught the hilt of the hammer.

    Bonzai twisted the hammer, so that the soldier’s hand was pulled back violently. Thymus grunted loudly as he felt the bones popping in his wrist.

    “Time for you to die, Scum,” Thymus hissed, bringing his sword in a downward slash towards the elf’s head.

    Bonzai blocked the attack with the head of the hammer. Then stepping under Thymus’ outstretched arms, he spun his entire body and brought the hammer back in a reverse swing, straight into Thymus’s gut.

    The human soldier bent forward at the waist and then fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

    Thymus’ companions saw the hammer rise once again and waiting to hear the sickening thud that would end their leader’s life.

    The ebon hammer came down with a mighty “WHOOSH”, and Thymus clenched his eyes shut.

    But the blow never landed.

    When Thymus opened his eyes again, he saw that his friends had fled and Bonzai was standing over him, the head to the crystal hammer just a feathers width from his skull.

    Bonzai tilted his head, “Well?”

    Thymus didn’t answer. Instead he scrambled to his feet and ran for his life.

    A half an hour later, Bonzai opened the door to his room and let in his traveling companion.

    “Where have you been?” he asked. “And why are you dressed that way?”

    His friend shrugged off the beggar clothes he had disguised himself in and flopped down on the bed, “No where, Just out and about.”

    Bonzai arched an eyebrow, “Did you have something to do with those soldiers that came to see me earlier?”

    “Who, me?” his friend said, looking hurt.

    “Aramis,” Bonzai scolded.

    Aramis smiled, “Do you want your cut or not?”