Why did this have to be in the rainforest? Navinian was thinking as he walked through the Taurerosa. He had accepted this assassination because it was good pay. But, was this worth it? Navinian hated the smell of the rainforest, and he wouldn't mention the watery ground. The elf looked down to see his feet being surrounded by dirty water each time he took a step. It probably would have helped if Navinian didn't wear sandals, but he did not like his feet to be completely covered. No, it bothered him in a quirky sort of way.

The sun was going down, but that didn't bother Navinian. In fact, he was pleased that he was coming upon his prey at nighttime. Navinian had no difficulty with seeing in the dark, and he also had keen elven eyes to aid him. Darkness was his advantage.

Navinian continued walking; each of his steps making a mushing sound on the ground. The elf curled up his nose with disgust for a moment, but after a while he was used to it. Suddenly the elf heard a sound; a rustling in the leaves. Strangely, it was if the sound had come from multiple directions, so Navinian was not able to tell where it had come from. Navinian looked around him as his hand slid to the handle of his longsword.

"Where are you?" Navinian spoke slowly and in a high-pitched voice; taunting the one who was near him. The elf had no idea why this person was wanted dead, but it didn't matter to him. Navinian looked behind him, then quickly turned his head back to the front. His hair fell into his face, and he immediately tossed it away with a fling of his head. His indigo eyes pierced the darkness as he searched for his kill. The sun was still up, but could only be seen through streams of light that happened to make their way through the trees.

"Why don't you come on out?" Navinian said. "I know you're here."

Dengar walked slowly through the thick undergrowth breathing in the deep aroma of the rainforest. He had only been here a few times before, but he knew very well that it was a great place to hide. And hiding was what he needed to do right now. He had recently killed several of the innocent peasants from Estolad and now the remaining peasants were after him. He did not see what was wrong with this as they killed and hunted sheep and other animals for food everyday, so why could he not hunt them?

The night was drawing near and his fairly empty stomach was rumbling. He had seen a snake just a little while ago which he could easily of killed, but in this jungle you could never tell which animals were poisonous or not. He had eaten a couple of leaves off of a red and blue plant he had come accross but ever since he had, he had felt slightly nauticous and his vision had became slightly blurry. And to make things worse he was starting to feel a little lost. He had kept walking towards the center of the jungle for ages and had no idea were it would lead to. Well at least he could be sure that he shook off any of the peasants.

The air was humid and thick here and was swarming with flies. Dengar swiped at them with his massive claws yet still managed to miss them all. He thanked the gods it was now getting cooler than the day otherwise he would not expect to survive the night. Just as he thought about collapsing in the mud and resting for a small nap, he heard a rustling nearby. He was not too disturbed by this as it was a jungle after all and everything seemed to be rustling with something or other. But the rustling was followed by a splashing of footsteps, and a voice. Something was calling out (whether they were shouting for him he did not know). He jumped into a nearby bush and peered through it's leaves to watch the person.

An elf was picking his way through plants searching the rainforest with sharp and shocking eyes. Dengar had no idea who this person was, but he was fairly sure that it was not one of the peasants. There was something about this man that made him stand out from the others. Dengar stayed still in the bushes and watched the elf whilst thinking of what move he would next make. He drew his Infernal sword as quietly as possible and quickly wiped off it's blood on a nearby leaf. He had only recently bought this sword and it had already managed to gain an unremovable bloodstain near the hilt. However there was no time to complain about such petty mishaps so he kicked off from the ground and sprang upwards into a nearby tree and watched the elf on the ground. There was no doubt she had seen him now, and he did not care. He had the high ground.

Navinian was beginning to grow annoyed at the search of this, well whatever he was searching for. His propositioner had told him to be careful; that the thing was unnaturally strong and wickedly evil. Navinian laughed at those words. ' You,' Navinian said to the man, 'Do not know what evil truly is; or, what it can be.' Fear had swelled within the man's eyes at these words, which caused joy to fill Navinian's. He had decided to take on this job for more than one reason. The first was for the pay, for he would be receiving quite a nice reward. The second was simply the love of killing; spilling the blood of another was something that seemed to please him to the depths of his heart....

Suddenly Navinian heard a rustle in the nearby greenery. The elf's mind went to work as he began to process the quality of the sound. That was not the sound of some small forest animal, Navinian thought. Navinian looked to the right; the opposite direction from which he had heard the rustling. So, my prey draw's nigh? Navinian smiled his insane smile and turned his head back to the front. Let's see if he follows me. Navinian took one step forward, but suddenly turned to the right. Then the elf drew his sword, and hacked at a long vine that was hanging in front of him. If his prey moved, Navinian would hear every sound, for the hearing of the elves was as keen as their sight. Then Navinian turned completely around to face his prey, when the thing jumped from the bushes and into the tree above him.

Navinian arched one eyebrow in amusement; almost laughing at the abruptness of the...creature. The elf was not intimidated, despite the size of the creature. It was very lizard-like, and obviously quite strong. Navinian tossed his head to throw the hair out of his face, and slowly moved his right foot forward. "Won't you come down?" the elf asked. "It'll be much easier to play." Navinian brought his left foot forward as well. What does it plan to do up there? The elf thought, wanting to prepare himself for the creatures next move. Then a sword in the hand of the creature caught Navinian's eye, and his indigo pupils narrowed. Surely it realizes that it will not be able to attack me from this distance, unless it plans to run. At this thought Navinian gripped his sword tightly and prepared himself for action. If this thing attacked, he would be ready. If it ran, he would chase it. The entire time the elf was thinking; preparing himself for every possible situation. This is what made him such a great assassin. The streams of light raining throughout the forest were fading, and Navinian smiled again. Soon, the elf thought, he will be at a disadvantage.

Dengar shifted himself around on the branch and gripped his sword tightly. Why the hell had he sprung up into a tree in the first place? Surely he would be stronger and more prepared on the ground. Regretting his hasty decision he concentrated on the man below and listened to what he had to say. He could not understand most languages being more brawn than brain, and could only make out the word 'play'. He knew what this meant and play was what they were about to do. His mother had always taught him not to play with his food, but just this once he thought he could make a slight exception to that rule.

He opened his wide mouth and released a war cry. It was a high screeched which quickly morphed into a low warbling frequency of sounds, a common battle shout for a Lizarian like him to make. He raised his trusty sword high above his head and faced the tip of it directly in the direction of her face. The sword was slanted for easy maneuverability and meant that he could easily make quick and accurate stabbing motions. He took a deep breath and leapt into the air, landing on the branch he was previously standing on with terrific impact, causing it to split.

The following actions went very slowly for Dengar, almost as if he was travelling in slow motion. The branch he had split came thundering towards the ground with Dengar riding on it, holding on dearly with his only freehand. As it slammed into the ground with amazing force (The weight of the log and Dengar combined was terrific) causing all nearby birds to take flight, and any bugs on the forest floor to either retreat or get crushed. He flung himself off of the log and used the momentum to launch a spring attack on the elf. His huge shadow blocked any remaining sunlight which was previously on the man to vanish and Dengar held his sword with two hands as he landed mere feet away from the enemy.

Not taking the time to pant, he struck. He pulled his sword backwards and then ripped it through the air towards the elf's chest with as much power as he could muster. He hoped that it would hit.

Navinian heard the branch shifting above him, but acted as if he did not notice. He was not trying to trick his prey, he was just too interested in the sun. It was setting.

Yes, Navinian thought. Die and let the moon live.

Almost instantly after he said this, Navinian heard a terrible cry come from above him. I guess it's time, the elf thought. He slowly turned his head to look above him. What he saw was a Lizard-like creature pointing the tip of its sword at him. Navinian refrained from smiling, for he wanted to watch the creature's actions attentively; there was no telling what it would do. Navinian's thoughts were confirmed when the creature. Navinian took a step back as the creature split a branch on the way down. Then, Navinian felt his body shake a bit as he landed on the grounded.

Birds were flying everywhere, and Navinian drew his sword, for the creature was surprisingly close. Navinian actually began to think that the creature was not as dumb as he had previously assumed, but there wasn't much time for Navinian to think as the creature struck at him.

Now, Navinian was naturally quick and agile, and he was very intuitive in combat. However, the surprise of such a close range attack had not allowed him to counter as effectively as he would have liked. However, he did manage to bring his sword up in time for the creature's sword to slam into his. Navinian's eyes narrowed as he realized the immense strength of his opponent, stumbling back a few steps as the swords clashed.

Navinian quickly jumped back into battle mode, and ducked to move under the creature's sword, bring his own sword around to strike at the creature's abdomen. His small elegant body moved quickly fluidly as he stayed low, making sure that his sword was also in a good position to block a blow to the head. He would have aimed for the heart, but his opponent was much too tall and large.

Dengar watched his sword miss the chest of the man and growled with anger. He had not expected his opponent to incredibly agile and would surely learn from his mistakes. He would soon pay for his clumsy lunge as the elf made a quick strike to his side, and Dengar was in a terrible posistion to combat the block. He twisted his sword to block the swipe but he was too slow.

The sword cut through his waist and into his side causing dark red blood to gush out of the fresh wound. Dengar staggered backwards and dropped his sword on the floor. He collapsed and clutched the wound with both hands. He could feel his life being sucked out of him, he could still feel the cold heartless blade ripping through his tough skin, he could still picture the mans evil and determined face as he made his attack. He allowed a slow moan to escape his throat as he tentatively rubbed his aching side. He was not prepared to die, not yet anyway. He would not die on the ground from a blow dealt to him by some pathetic assassin. No way.

He released another deep moan but this was not one of pain. It was to aid him in casting the spell 'Regeneration' on his wound to heal him of most damage. Sure enough, the skin stretched over the tear in his side and both ends fused together stopping any blood flowing out of him. Scales regrew over the patch where he had been hit and the skin mended itself. Dengar slowly stood up and wiped his blood stained hands on his chest. There was no chance of him finishing the fight in this state, so he decided that he would need a little help.

He raised his hands to the heavens then directed them towards the hells beneath him and muttered something in his Lizarian tongue. An exact duplicate of himself punched it's way through the tough and brittle soil and clambered out of the floor. It stood next to his master, who pointed to the infernal sword lying on the floor, and then to the assassin. The clone nodded and prepared himself for battle, whilst the real Dengar sat down against a tree and rested his tired body.

Navinian's face was unchanged as he cut through the skin of the lizard creature. He quickly took a few steps back, and stood, waiting for the creature's next move. However, it seemed that his strike had been enough, for the creature had now dropped its sword. Navinian watched as the lizard creature collapsed and grabbed hold of its wound. The sun was nearly completely gone, it's rays of light now only barely visible in the skies above them.

Navinian's attention turned back to the creature as it let out another deep moan. He then realized that the creature was healing itself. Usually, Navinian's face was ever-unchanging, always holding a dark and faint smile that seemed to mock the pain of others. However, today, his smile increased, as he watching the creature's scale cover over it's wound. Navinian realized that the creature was a bit more resourceful than first impressions had caused him to realize.

Navinian rose his sword once again to prepare for another attack, but paused as the creature began making strange guestures. It mumbled a few words, and Navinian's eyes were fixated upon the ground as something began to push through the earth. Navinian, at this point, realized that his prey was conjuring something, and the elf wanted to attack instantly. But it was too late, as Navinian watched another creature; exactly like the first; crawl up from the earth.

Navinian stared at the new creature as his original prey went to rest. Then, the elf's breath began to become unstable. He was chuckling. His smile widened as his chuckles grew louder, and then into full laughter. His laugh was sounded both maniacal and hysterical, causing him to appear quite insane. But as his laughter died, he sounded as common as ever, as if he was just like any other.

"Truly amusing." Navinian said slowly, his voice sounding calm and smoothe. "I must commend you, for my hunt will not be in vain. I will be able to say that I had a good time killing you." His indigo eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke. It was certainly not a compliment that most people would like to hear. But coming from Navinian, it meant a lot; it meant that he respected his opponent.

"Now!" Navinian shouted, his eyes now wide open. "Let's see what this clone of yours can do!" With that said, Navinian charged head-on, his sword raised for an attack. Suddenly he jumped into the air; slicing his sword diagonally as he came down in an attempt to cut the clone's chest.

The clone stood still and mentally gathered as much information about his surroundings as he possibly could. He was clearly fighting a man of great skill, for reasons unknown. His master had pointed to a sword on the floor, no doubt the weapon he was supposed to use. The sun had gone to rest and the bright silver moon had begun to come out to play. Excellent.

The clone eyed his opponent and and judged how good a fighter he was by his weapon and body language. He was standing alert, with a motionless face which seemed prepared. The elf himself was fairly muscular, and looked very athletic. He assumed that he was quicker than he was strong and would need to be treated with extreme caution. His master had obviously been wounded by his opponent otherwise he wouldn't have been summoned, so no doubt the elf must be a formidable enemy.

He did not have very much time to think about his next move as the man had already sprung into action attempting to chop at his chest. Thinking fast, the clone flung himself in the direction of the sword and pushed his whole body flat against the ground, narrowly missing the attack. He picked up the weapon and brandished it. He held it in front of him facing the tree tops and bowed politely to his enemy. He then stood in a lunging position and waited for his opponent to strike.

Navinian's sword sliced through thin air, followed by a slight 'thump' as his feet landed on the ground. The clone had jumped to the side in a clumsy manner. Navinian stood there for a moment, the impact from his landing causing his hair to hang down to the sides of his face. The elf pulled his left hand to his cheek, and brushed his hair back behind his ears. He then slowly turned to look at the clone, just as it bowed to him.

"Hmph." Navinian snorted, turning completely as his arms and sword hungly limply to his side. The clone was now had the sword and was in it's position. Navinian wondered for a moment if it would be wise for him to attack head-on. He looked over at the creature that he was supposed to be fighting, but his attention quickly diverted back to the clone. The sun was no longer present, and the moon hang in the night sky with all its glory. The rainforest was nearly pitch dark, for the tall trees made the night sky almost invisible; except for a full moon that loomed ominously in the heavens.

"While I am sure that this will be interesting." Navinian said very plainly, "Let's try not to drag this out too long." Although he said this, he really enjoyed long battles. This was especially when his opponents were weaker, when he could torture them for long periods of time. But, something about this creature bothered him, and he wanted to make sure that he got his job done.

Navinian charged yet again to come within close range of the clone. "Pain!" He yelled as he swung his sword horizontally at the clone's thigh, the elf's hair flowing wildly as he lunged forward.

Dengar watched his clone and the elf begin the fight and observed his tactics. He seemed to use his agility to the best of his ability and could spring through the air just like... a spring. He sat with his feet firmly on the ground and his hands leaning upon his knees. He had found that this was the best resting and relaxing position there was (except for lying down, but this would make him much unprepared for any possible attacks). He was beginning to gain his breath back and considered fighting along side the clone to held defeat his adversary, however he had never summoned a clone before and wanted to see if it truly was and exact copy of himself.

Meanwhile the clone was busy defending himself from the elf. “While I am sure that this will be interesting, Let's try not to drag this out too long. Pain!” The clone’s eyes followed the elf as he flung his sword towards what seemed to be aimed at his legs. Simply moving it to the side was not an option as a quick slice would surely sever it. His brain had grown adapt for making split decisions which often got him out of tricky situations, but whether he was quick or strong enough to put his thoughts into actions varied.

The clone instead combated the strike with his sword and swung it at parrying it to his left whilst immediately hopping to his right to avoid any rebound attack. He knew that it was frowned upon and very dishonorable to attack someone from behind but he did not care. He always made sure that he did what was the easiest thing and most effective thing in battle, as there were no shiny medals and trophies for those who ‘played fair’.

He did not have time to decide whether what he was about to do was noble enough though as his foe was very agile, and he would surely respond within split seconds of the counter. He mentally praised the man for his daring and determination. Most other people he had fought had either fled long ago or died very early on in the battle. It was a pity that his life must be wasted by his blade.

He raised his sword above his head and a faint beam of moonlight reflected off the blade and onto the dark, damp floor. He snarled as he swiped at the elf’s neck and raised his foot as to kick his back if the sword did not hit or was countered.

Navinian stumbled a bit as the clone parried his sword. He did not immediately switch his position so as to strike again, which was a mistake he would regret. Instead, he had decided that the clone was too slow for him to worry about, and he would easily be able to doge any oncoming attack. After taking just a bit more time than he should, Navinian turned just in time to see the clone's sword coming down to him.

"AGH!" Navinian yelled as he raised his sword.

*CLANG*

The sound of the metal crashing together rang through the Taurerosa. Navinian smile a bit, for he was proud to have blocked such a surprisingly quick attack. However, he was not prepared for what happened next. Navinian felt a powerful blow to his back, for he had not fully turned. His body looked like a limp doll as he flew to the ground, rolling as he made impact with the damp ground.

For a moment, he was dazed. How had the it attack so quickly? Navinian thought. He then realized two things. First, he had underestimated his opponent, taking his large size to be a sign of slowness. Second, he had grown a bit cocky. But now this elf knew that this battle was not to be taken lightly. He smiled...

"Well done." Navinian said slowly and in an eerie tone. He rose to his feet, and refrained from reaching to clutch his throbbing back. He was slightly enraged, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling. Something about pain made him smile, whether it was his own or another's. He wasn't standing completely straight, for his back would not allow him to do so. The elf was now unsure if he would be able to continue this battle and still claim his life in the end. But he would continue, for death was no issue to him.

He leaned backward to stretch his aching back. "You're strength is not to be doubted." Navinian said. "So, let you come at me, and attack." Navinian was not yet ready to charge again, and he hoped that the clone would not do so immediately. He would wait, and let the clone make the next move.

The clone let a grunt vibrate through his mouth as his kick sent the man crashing into the ground. He had a slight feeling of proudness inside him as he delivered the kick, but it took a lot of energy out of him. Attacks of that calibre were breathtaking to watch and perform and meant that if it failed he would be an easy target. None the less he regained his breath as the elf staggered to his feet and continued to bombard him with banter. He listened vaguely to what the elf said, translating it into Lizarian as he processed each syllable through his small yet sufficient mind.

It was clear by what he said and how he said it that he was in a very feeble state to fight. However he could be feinting or appearing weaker than he actually was. The decision was to not allow him any time to catch his breath or think up a plan and simply charge straight into battle again. He snarled and kicked off from the ground to make his way towards his foe. He was not running at his full speed however as there was no need too, and no matter how fast he went, the elf would surely be faster. He was relying on his brute strength and power to defeat the elf.

As he ran he felt a sharp rock pierce the back of his neck (One of the only places on his entire body which was not coated in thick scales) and felt the trickle of warm blood rush down his back. He yelped in pain and stumbled onto the ground in a pool of his own blood. The real Dengar could be seen standing up by the tree now, making his way to the man. He wanted to do the killing, he did not need any help – not even from himself. He let loose a small sinister laugh as he ripped out the sharp flint which had killed his clone. He chucked it on the floor and then picked up the sword which was lying on the ground next to the clone’s outstretched hand. Wasting no time in standing up slowly he grabbed the sword, rolled towards the elf whilst standing and made a quick swipe towards the enemy’s face.

Navinian spread out his feet and braced himself, for he knew that it would be difficult to simply block an attack from his prey. As the clone charge, Navinian held very tightly onto his sword, as his left hand spread out a bit to help him balance.

Come on, fella', Navinian thought.

The next few events highly amused Navinian. For a moment, though, he was puzzled by the clone's sudden fall to the ground. He quickly took a step back, thinking that there was a trap of some sort being set. His eye was then caught by the original creature, who was now making his way towards the elf. Then, the creature ripped a rock or the like out of the clones neck, and began to laugh. Navinian was highly amused by this, and almost began to laugh as well, but he refrained. But he realized that the creature was ready to continue battle as he picked up the sword once more.

Navinian was not sure what to do at this time. His back was still in pain, although he tried not to show it. And he was quite certain that the creature had recovered well enought to adequately fight. Then a thought crossed his mind as the creature ran at him once again:

Do I fear death?

The reason for this thought was his constant worry of the creature's ability to fight. But, such an immense question had caused his mind to temporary lapse and lose focus on the current battle. He wasn't able to keep up well enough as the creature rolled on the ground, and without much concentration he brought up his sword to poorly block the oncoming attack. 'Poorly' was the correct choice of word, for the attack had much strength, and almost in slow motion did the creature's sword cut deeply into Navinian's cheek.

"Aghhhhh!" The elf jumped back, his hand reached to his face in a vain effort to stop the blood from pouring out. But there was nothing he could do. He was ashamed, for he knew that this was it. He had been defeated. Suddenly the darkness of the trees began to swirl as he became dizzy. But he was able to think of his respect towards his opponent before completely falling to the ground.

With a loud 'thump', Navinian lay on the Earth. The pain throbbed and made him unable to open his eyes. He clutched onto the dirt near his hands in an attempt to relieve his pain, but it was no use. Nothing would stop him from slowly, blacking, out......

As his Infernal blade made contact with the elf's face a rush of Dark Magic flowed through his body. Dark blood gushed out of his foe's cheek and spilt itself over the sword. It splashed onto Dengar's face and dripped off of him, warming his scaly body. The sword itself flashed a dark indigo light as it made contact, and pulsed energy through the blade into the handle. As the glowing energy made contact with Dengar's hand he felt the magic gushing through his every vein, healing him of any previous damage. The feeling was incredible and spread from his head to toe. A tickling sensation could be felt in his fingertips as the magic did a lap of his body and then escaped back into his sword. With the elf's pain, came the Lizarians pleasure.

The forest went back to it's original darkness and seemed to be a lot quieter now. Perhaps the wildlife around them had fled on the sight of the glow, or maybe they had been frightened off by lurking predators who had caught the scent of blood. However, that was not important at the time being, as Dengar did not know whether the man was dead or not. He had been cut fairly deep in the cheek and was not likely to get up again without some kind of healing or medical aid.

Cautiously, Dengar slowly walked towards the body and checked for signs of life. His Chest was rising very subtly which indicated breathing, which indicated life. Not a good sign. Dengar decided to end this mans life quickly and quietly, so he knelt down next to the elf and opened his mouth. He could smell the delicious Oder of human flesh, it was so immense he couldn't resist himself. He lent his head next to her neck and prepared to take a small bite out of her throat.

All of a sudden, Dengar heard a noise coming from some of the trees nearby. A foul stench filled the air as the noise grew louder and louder. A head burst through the trees, followed by the body of an incredible swamp dragon who was sniffing the air vigorously. He must have smelt the blood Dengar thought to himself as it made direct eye contact with him. Dengar forgot about his victim for the time being and concentrated on the dragon. Although he was feeling refreshed and healed, he knew that there was no way he could take on a dragon of this size on his own, and silently hoped that help would come.