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Lucian looked towards his companion Adok, the Dwarf looking into the helm covered eyes of his companion. As if unspoken words were shared the Dwarf gave a powerful nod of approval before throwing himself towards the Black Knight and quickly grabbing the shoulder of a Ranger, “We move, Lucian will hold the fool back!”
“Damn you-!” Wigmar tried to throw himself towards Adok but Lucian had already positioned himself in a good location. The Knight threw a strike, one that would have imbedded his scythe into the armor of the Imperial yet the threat of it was enough to cause hesitation. The traitor kept his distance as Adok and the Dwarfen Scouts threw themselves back into the hallway.
The two of them were apart from one another, Lucian keeping the distance between with the longer reach of his scythe. Wigmar looked at the Knight, easily seeing the green eyes that radiated from underneath the helm.
“Chasing me across the Bretonnian Countryside… I thought you were after me.” The Imperial said as he glanced at the doorway, “But it seems I’m wrong. Of course you’d want the Necromancer.”
Lucian kept his silence, his scythe positioned for a ready strike the moment that Wigmar made his attack. His eyes never broke off from Wigmar’s, with glances at the weapon within his hands so that he knew where the weapon that could kill him rested.
“You lost your voice to the Skaven?” He asked for a moment before his eyes widened, “Oh I get it, you only speak to your allies. A Warrior of Morr fights in silence.”
Lucian gripped his weapon, giving the confirmation that Wigmar needed.
The Warrior moved with speed that was far greater than before. The Enchantment of the Sword giving the once normal Imperial Man strength that was greater than mortal men. The same kind of strength that Lucian, chosen by the Gods, had within his flesh.
Lucian tried to keep the warrior at the edge of his weapon, a strike with his scythe going towards the head of his enemy. He watched as Wigmar quickly bowed his head, sinking within the reach of Lucian like a snake.
A lunch bashing of metal against metal rang as Lucian landed a fist into the chestplate of the Imperial, pushing him back just enough as Lucian tried to bring his weapon around.
Yet he realized here that he was not controlling the fight.
