I will probably keep coming back to this, but it's an awesome prompt, so... Here goes!
I:
"How can your allies watch your back?"
The words came sharp, pointed - perhaps pointier than the horns adorning the face that accused him, Averill mused. He stoked the blaze with the head of his axe, flames carving deep valleys in old scars. "Who said I had someone at my back?"
"You've the bearing of a warrior." Plate, flawlessly maintained, and an unscarred face shifted into a bemused frown. It had been the first break in the stranger's stoicism, "Any blade that takes the field would never survive if they took it alone."
His attention drifted to the fell blade that Averill so carelessly pushed into their fire. "You presume that I take the field."
An age's silence returned the warrior to straight lips. "You refuse the duty of the strong?"
"Duty?"
"To protect the weak - we are the shield-"
"I have an axe."
"Averill, we protect the weak. We stand against the darkness, do we not?"
"You might." Averill shifted. He trained a pale eye on the warrior, resplendent in royal blue and shining gold. "I look like I do much protecting?"
He stood. If there was rage, it roiled beneath gilt armour. "Perhaps you are the fiend that cautioned my blade to begin with."
Averill stoked the blaze again, eyes averted. No steel followed the warrior's accusation; only the steps carrying heavily into the deep night.
![[Image: latest?cb=20130702002931]](http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/dissidiadreamcharacters/images/9/95/Warrior_of_Light_(Normal).PNG/revision/latest?cb=20130702002931)
I:
"How can your allies watch your back?"
The words came sharp, pointed - perhaps pointier than the horns adorning the face that accused him, Averill mused. He stoked the blaze with the head of his axe, flames carving deep valleys in old scars. "Who said I had someone at my back?"
"You've the bearing of a warrior." Plate, flawlessly maintained, and an unscarred face shifted into a bemused frown. It had been the first break in the stranger's stoicism, "Any blade that takes the field would never survive if they took it alone."
His attention drifted to the fell blade that Averill so carelessly pushed into their fire. "You presume that I take the field."
An age's silence returned the warrior to straight lips. "You refuse the duty of the strong?"
"Duty?"
"To protect the weak - we are the shield-"
"I have an axe."
"Averill, we protect the weak. We stand against the darkness, do we not?"
"You might." Averill shifted. He trained a pale eye on the warrior, resplendent in royal blue and shining gold. "I look like I do much protecting?"
He stood. If there was rage, it roiled beneath gilt armour. "Perhaps you are the fiend that cautioned my blade to begin with."
Averill stoked the blaze again, eyes averted. No steel followed the warrior's accusation; only the steps carrying heavily into the deep night.
