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Malachai stared at Aggron for a moment, the lingering gusts of his windstorm still whistling in his ears. In the midst of battle, he could hear an opponent's heart beat, their lungs fill and empty, whenever they drew close. Malachai drew close now, and listened. Aggron's pulse didn't sound...

Good. Whatever this 'mon's troubles were, any answer that would not trouble Malachai was a fine development indeed. Malachai landed on the beach, concentrating for a moment to draw on Roost, despite his rustiness. With a hateful grunt, he tensed his torso and channelled healing energy to his...

A counter. Expected, but threatening. Malachai rolled and pulled away. Even so— BRAPCK. The impact cracked Malachai across his ribcage, and something cracked nastily inside his chest. He pulled his lip back in a snarl, and came around, fighting for momentum. He wasn't done. <Clever trick...

Malachai narrowed his eyes as he looked down at his opponent. Pride kept him from simply leaving, which the aggron could certainly not prevent. Humility kept him from diving in a full-on attack, bound to result in the brute's bulk coming fully to bear against him. Instead, he built velocity...

Malachai took the lightning strike and let out a guttural hiss of displeasure as he spent altitude to gain speed. But aggron were not mages, as a species, and the attack was pathetic compared to the hail of stones. Malachai spat fire again, already thinking through his next moves. All his...

Malachai didn't stop to snarl or bellow; he leapt upwards, wings beating down hard enough to send loose sand into the air between them, and provide cover for his manouever backward. He needed distance. <Have it your way,> he sent, icily. <Make your master proud.> Malachai intended to do...

Malachai huffed, and stared impassively at the display of aggression. The rocks would hurt him if they hurtled through the air to strike him, but first Aggron would need to hurl them. Accurately, no less. <Is that so? It seems your desire to battle has nothing to do with me. I ask you this...

The aggron did not meet Malachai's eyes as he answered. Interesting. Malachai would not leave such discomfort unprobed. <Really?> he sent, drily. <Does your Steven have enmity for me? Or has he merely sent you to test your strength against me?> Idly, he wondered about Aggron's combat style...

Malachai snorted irritably. An earthen brute, at first glance. But strong, and with a tight grip on his own honour. That, he liked. <You have my attention, Aggron. I am called Malachai, and I attend this island as guardian to my master, Laura of Circhester. Do you challenge me in the service of...

Malachai felt a mass of rock fly past his skull that would most certainly have sent him reeling, if not actually knocked him out. He turned his glare on the attacking 'mon, wondering if allowing him to approach out of curiosity had been poor judgement on his own part. So, an aggron, was he? Not...

When he left his shadow on the waves, Malachai recalled why he preferred to hunt at night. One spooked one's prey by alerting them to the presence of a large creature above the surface. But his master was diurnal, and as such, so must he be. Base creatures of flesh alone could not escape the...