Snapping out of his reverie, Sterling picked up his sword and looked down at Ral with an almost emotionless expression on his face. "Are you alright?" asked the Swordsman in the Drowish tongue, ignoring the Monk's previous inquiries. Ral just looked at him in disbelief and asked, "What?"
Kneeling down and examining his companion's wound, the Dark Elf said in a tone devoid of compassion, "You'll live." Rising to his feet, the Swordsman marched over to confront the remaining Bullywugs on their opposite flank.
"Come and taste the Evenflow!" hissed the Drow coldly in the Dark Elf dialect, advancing on their enemies and menancingly brandishing his sword.
The Bullywugs looked at the Drow and then at each other. Realizing that the tide had turned against this skirmish, the frog-like creatures turned tail and ran back into the swampy muck from which they came. Without turning his back on the retreating group, the Dark Elf walked back over to Ral, sheathed his sword and helped the Monk to his feet.
"How is he?" asked the Drow calling over to Ashleyien, continuing to speak in his native tongue. Looking over at him and shaking her head, Ashleyien said, "I don't understand what you're saying."
"I'm sorry," Sterling finally said in English. "How is the Sun Elf doing?" Stopping himself as if to clear his head and reassess his thoughts. "Sun Elf?! Now where the hell did that come from?"
((A Point To Ponder))
((NEXT))
