There are about ten thousand things to say in the situation Caden found himself in right now. For all the oratory acrobatics of Wizardry, for all the experience of adventuring, and for all the time he'd spent fighting for his life in one trauma-ridden situation or the next five after it; he could only muster one word. It was a fitting word. It was one of the Great Questions that define us all -- the fodder by which stories are told and believed, and lives are won or lost.

"How?" he asked, over and over again.

"The Hellhound's armor was merely a simulacrum of my own. Guess who the Necromancer's Forges saw fit to give the better suit, Wizard? Go on. Use that great academic prowess to guess," Ghez told him, and Caden could very well hear the smile on his face even from twenty yards out. "Mine. I was given this Armor of Champions for victories in His services. Mere rock isn't going to break it."

Caden's whole face twitched.

"Incidental to my Steed, I'm going to need a new one now. But I can forgive you for that. The Necromancer will likely just give me a better replacement as part of the bounties to be bestowed upon me for your head. Me and me alone. My thanks for murdering Kholia will be a quick and merciful death." He flicked his wrist once, and the chain-hung axe whipped up into his grasp. He brandished it with simple predatory intentions written into the very air around him. "Tilt your head back, Wizard. Xem'zund willing, this will only hurt once."

Caden shuddered once, and then stilled. He straightened from his slouched posture, then did indeed tilt his head back. Caden stared up through the fog, into the clouds, and then he let out a dull chuckle.

Ghez didn't wait for him.

The barbarian Death Lord leapt forward, hit the ground on one foot and turned into a stampeding bull elephant in the size and shape of a man. He did so without a battle cry, and even without the antilights of Necromancy to glitter and burn around his axes. He really did mean what he said.

It would've been painless. Maybe a split second's discomfort and about fifteen more spent staring at the scenery while waiting for his brain to stop functioning. It would've been honorable, since he died on the field of battle against the enemy's captain and commander. There would've literally been nothing wrong with dying like this.

It just wasn't Caden's style.

Both hands took the Wand of Nevermorrow and pulled back, low, and to the side. Blueraven sank into a stance that would've done an Akashiman samurai proud, and only then did he finally meet Felhammer in the eyes.

"Not happening."

He swept forward, and the ever malleable ground of Raiaera traced his movements. Rocks and dirt and mud; it all flooded up and took grass and trees and gods-know-what with it, forming a sharpened tentacle-like spire that arced around from behind the Wizard and slammed into Ghez Felhammer almost head on. The Death Lord had no real time to counter it and it did little to hurt him; all he could do was scream profanity as he was literally ground to a stop some yards away.

"I won't make that offer twice, Wizard!"

"You won't have to," Caden replied. "You're about to die, Ghez. I'm going to kill you -- here and now. I swear it on your own dead body."