Vandum had been the Strongest twice; Orjin had never taken his spot, but Vandum had challenged Orjin three times. He had lost each one, to the older [Martial Artist]’s disbelief. But it had not been an easy battle any time.
Vandum had been the Strongest twice; Orjin had never taken his spot, but Vandum had challenged Orjin three times. He had lost each one, to the older [Martial Artist]’s disbelief. But it had not been an easy battle any time.
The last time, Orjin had broken nine bones and been forced to use his ultimate Skill, [Dulav-ra: Tetrad of the Solar Aura]. He had wounded the Stitch-man so badly that Vandum had been forced to leave Pomle for four months to have his body resewn. Then he had not shown his face near Orjin.
The last time Orjin remembered Vandum, he had been staring at the other man’s arm as the [Martial Artist] tried to get to his knees. It had lain there, torn off from a socket as the disbelieving warrior looked up, blood pooling onto dry sand. He had thought he would win—maybe he should have.
Even then, he had refused to relent or back down. Orjin had told him to stop before one of them died. Vandum had not. He had only stopped when he realized Orjin could have killed him and was holding back.
Vandum had reinvented himself with a Stitch-person’s ability to change their body decade after decade since Pomle. He had been only twenty when Pomle was freed. Now? He was in his fifties.
Yet Orjin respected Vandum. He was unsure if the reverse was true, but Vandum had acknowledged Orjin’s skill in battle. He was, perhaps, the embodiment of Pomle’s ideals in one sense.
Yet Orjin respected Vandum. He was unsure if the reverse was true, but Vandum had acknowledged Orjin’s skill in battle. He was, perhaps, the embodiment of Pomle’s ideals in one sense.
Striving for superiority in combat. Vandum’s bare fists were deadly weapons in themselves; the gauntlets of mithril made him more so. If there was a technical edge armor or magic could give him, he tried to work it into his fighting.
Erin Solstice raised one hand, and Vandum threw a dagger at her. Xil’s spear went up, and he deflected the dagger, which whined as it went careening to one side and blew up in a shower of flames. Orjin nearly punched her before he realized it was an illusion. Salthorn shouted warningly.
