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

Well, a fat lot of good that did. Lewa knew he probably shouldn’t have even tried to talk this fiercely proud warrior down. Instead of extinguishing his smoldering ire, the toa’s wind had just fanned the flames. It looked like his opponent would only let this fight end one way: with one of them on the ground. [i]And it’s not going to be me.[/i] That thought propelled Lewa’s joints into action as he whipped up another whirlwind, galvanized to action all the faster by his foe’s sudden, outraged approach. This was it–the deciding moment. Lewa readied himself for the swing strike. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, this guy wasn’t going to have it any other way. Mustering his strength, he unleashed his cyclone, and the winds roared.

As it turned out, though, this roller coaster ride of surprises was far from over.

A dark blur interposed itself between the two combatants, not just stopping Varst in his tracks with the threat of a lethal swordblade, but also blowing apart Lewa’s whirlwind as if it were no more than a summer breeze. Already halfway back into a fighting stance, the toa paused, his eyes wide with astonishment. Confusion as well, seeing that this interloper shared an aesthetic style with the Raven Heralds, but opposed Varst while ignoring Lewa altogether. He wasn’t sure what to make of this. Was this person an ally? An enemy? Should he attack while her defenseless back was turned? Probably not. On one hand that sort of underhanded move just wasn’t his style, while on the other, the confidence that oozed from this woman’s every movement made him think that any attempt at capitalization might just be poking the Muaka.

So instead Lewa settled for a state of tense readiness, listening in silence as the exchange between the two helped paint for him the bigger picture. It sounded like this ‘Varst’ might be playing the role of an unruly subordinate, an impulsive captain going over the head of his general. For a moment it looked like might turn his anger on the interloper, but the spitfire quickly got snuffed out. Like a rogue Gukko Bird captured and returned to its roost to sulk. To be honest, Lewa didn’t mind this turn of events. The fight was over, and nobody had to die. Sure, someone who seemed much stronger than this already-troublesome glaivier had revealed herself, but could Lewa’s future be any more uncertain than it already was? At this point, new twists and turns might just as well be drops in the ocean now that the dam of his previous worldview had burst.

While issuing orders, the peacemaker turned to stare at Lewa. He really couldn’t fathom what she might be thinking; his mask probably made his resignation apparent enough. It wasn’t much longer until she left, retreating alongside all the Raven Heralds who remained. “Guess this is a win,” he muttered, shrugging, before he replaced his axe on his back. Considering the situation at hand, things had turned out to be much more simple than he would have thought. Regardless, with the battle over, he felt compelled to seek out the others. Lewa jogged through the town, searching for either allies or survivors, until he spotted the small organic known as the Witch Knight. “Good to see you well-alive!” he hailed her, waving. As he slowed to a stop, he looked around, scanning the ruined village. “But where are the others?”