[center][color=green][h3]Lewa[/h3][/color][/center]

Drawn by the visceral sounds of conflict, Lewa emerged from the treeline to find a village embroiled in chaos, and not just thanks to its attackers. After all, the deluge that had descended upon it was no ordinary downpour. He couldn’t help but pause for a brief moment in wonderment as he witnessed a torrent of elemental power polluting the airspace over the breached and burning buildings, raining not from the skies but from the Sanae as she floated aloft. Her use of the water element, a power exclusive to female toa in his world, did not surprise him so much as the sheer volume of her output. Already this hydrokinetic flood went well beyond any feat his sister Gali had ever achieved, and as Sanae had already demonstrated via her flight and barrier creation, she possessed a wealth of abilities on top of this. It was a little humbling, in fact. On the island of Mata Nui, the six toa -with their tools and abilities- were all that stood between the Matoran and the myriad dangers that threatened their way of life. Here though, this individual could do more than several toa combined with a mere snap of her fingers. Lewa watched as the enemy force scattered, their formation broken as they ran for cover from Sanae’s seemingly unstoppable onslaught, their weapons useless. What hope did someone like Lewa have?

As it turned out, though, the battle wasn’t over yet. Despite appearances, Sanae’s magic couldn’t saturate every inch of the village at once, and the Raven Heralds harbored ranged attackers of their own. Well-aimed shots from odd angles disrupted Sanae’s offense, and when followed up by javelins of elemental ice, her opposition displaced her enough to turn the tables. Suddenly a variety of spells, faster and stronger than her own projectiles, were keeping her from re-establishing air superiority. As much as Lewa wanted to see Kopaku right now (a sentiment that he admittedly would have never thought possible given his brother’s distant, icy disposition) he’d already learned that elemental abilities weren’t the domain of toa alone. When Lewa turned his attention back down to earth, he spotted better-defended soldiers elbowing past their more vulnerable peers, clearing the way for the casters. Though their robes and staves reminded Lewa of the Turaga, it seemed as though they were bending their wisdom toward destruction rather than cultivation. It had become clear that Lewa couldn’t leave this fight in the others’ hands. “Looks like I have a job to do, after all,” he said, hefting his axe. Despite his misgivings, it was time to prove himself as a toa -and a hero- to the people of this besieged village in combat.

When Lewa approached, the soldiers took notice. His remarkable size, not to mention the vivid coloration of his armor, commanded the attention of everyone present. From appearances alone, few would imagine him to be less of a threat than the horned woman or little girl already wreaking havoc in their midst. And naturally, they’d give this threat the attention they felt he deserved. The Raven Heralds’ marshalls quickly dispatched a cavalry unit his way, the heavy artillery of the medieval battlefield. With the defense of a knight but mobility and momentum that no infantry could hope to match, armed with an instrument of blunt trauma capable of treating a knight’s full plate like tin foil, the mounted warrior was the perfect tool for the job of quelling the armored giant before them.

Or so they thought.

Though the sight of a cavalier thundering one’s way on horseback was enough to make the average soldier soil himself, Lewa was more amazed than afraid. As someone with an intrinsic love for wildlife and the beauty of nature, he marveled at the sight of a four-legged beast with legs like pillars and a humanoid torso protruding from its back, all outfitted in metal as a weapon of war. Only after a moment did he realize that there must be two bodies, one riding atop the other like a Matoran on a Gukko bird. A silly mistake, no doubt, but who could blame him? Everything here was so unfamiliar. Regardless, he couldn’t afford to gawk for long. Strange as this world might be, he knew a weapon when he saw it, especially one wielded with killing intent. [i]I’m sorry,[/i] he thought, his grip tightened around his axe. [i]But I have to do this![/i]

Hefting his axe, Lewa whirled around above his head, one, twice. Each stirred the air around him, creating and then intensifying a vortex around him. Even if he noticed, the cavalier did not change course; he was dead-set on running the toa down. “Wind…” Lewa steeled himself and swung his axe with all his might to launch the whirlwind forward. “Fly!” It tore across the soil, whipping up twigs and leaves in its wake, and slammed into the horseman as he closed the last couple dozen feet. On contact, it threw both beast and rider off-kilter, turning their speed and weight against them. In a mere moment the horse went from off balance to off its feet, its hooves kicking upward as the animal fell, shrieking. Caught in his stirrups, the cavalier went down along with his mount, one leg practically crushed beneath its weight. His yell was interrupted by his impact with the ground, concussing him as he slammed against the inside of his armor. A couple feet away his hammer had been thrown from his grasp as he instinctively put his hands out to break his landing, smacking head-first and partially sinking into the soil before it teetered over. Both of the fallen struggled, discombobulated by the forces at play and the intense pain of their unexpected collision with the ground.

When they went down Lewa had jumped clear, easily sailing to a safe distance without even needing to invoke his Kanohi Miru. He watched as his attacker and his horse suffered from their injuries, unable to disentangle themselves and rise. The sounds made by the horse in particular were just hideous, and they hurt Lewa especially. He hadn’t wanted to -or really thought he would- hurt the creature when he attacked. This wasn’t its fault after all, it was just being used. As he wondered what to do, the cavalier finally managed to take advantage of the horse’s thrashing and pull his trapped leg out from beneath it. Maybe it was broken, maybe it wasn’t. Right now he couldn’t be sure thanks to the adrenaline, and he knew things weren’t over. Still on the ground, he rounded on Lewa, expecting to be executed. Instead Lewa slid his foot underneath the hammer next to the handle and kicked the weapon toward his foe. To him, this made sense. He didn’t want to play the role of executioner. It was clear that his opponent could keep fighting. The honorable thing to do would be to give him a sporting chance. To the cavalier, of course, this was a humiliating taunt. He was wounded, possibly crippled, while his opponent possessed massive advantages. The fight was already over. All he could do was hope that his foe’s arrogance would give him the one-in-a-million chance he needed.

So the Raven Herald grasped his hammer, propped himself up with it as struggled to stand, and roared with everything he had as he stepped forward. He knew he was looking death in the face, and a primal fury possessed him. Lewa’s eyes were narrowed as he tried to gauge the threat, making no assumptions. It never occurred to him to taunt or showboat in any means; this was as serious as the toa of air got. As the cavalier swung his heavy hammer, Lewa stepped back. The weapon’s weight made its wielder overbalance, and as he struggled to bring the overswing under control, Lewa moved in. His two-handed chop caught the man full in the breastplate with the protodermis head of his axe, caving in the armor and leaving a long, narrow dent. On the inside this became an edge that parted flesh and bone. The man fell, his lungs crushed and his heart stopped. As he hit the ground Lewa stepped back, reading his axe again for the next bout, expecting his opponent to rise. Only after a few moments did it become clear that he never would.

The toa stared at the warrior for a moment, wondering why he’d just…stopped. Unaware of the concept of internal organs, he could only guess at what had happened. Had that clean hit really been enough? Lewa felt a chill in his veins, and the pulse of his heartlight didn’t slow despite the battle’s end. [i]No good. No good at all.[/i]  He forced himself to look away. There were plenty more Raven Heralds where that one came from. This wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot, and the sooner it came to an end, the better.