The Challenge

There were few paladins across the world who have not heard of the family Law. Their service to the god Amon dates back longer than written history tracks, and tales of their heroics rides on the sails of ships across seas and over the strings strummed by bards as they sing of their heroic tales. It was a Law who slayed the elder green dragon. It was a Law who marched into hell to reclaim the Yellow King's daughter. Today? It is a Law who champions the city of Cairo, greatest kingdom of Nefetria.

Umar, the Invincible, has defended the walls of the city for his unnaturally long life, his service pledged to God above and to the king who serves that god best. The stories of him, even still living, sound more like legend than fact. They say Sir Umar is truly invincible on the battlefield. His holy armor can not be touched by mage or by hand. His longsword brims with the power of God himself, and commands those who would strike him to turn away and drop their weapons.

It was this man, now, who had the fairy king paused with his armies outside the city walls of Cairo. Noa had made the request the dawn before: "I would request the custom of one on one combat, so that we may see as little bloodshed as possible. Do you have a champion?" Out of the gate of the city walked the man himself, his armor covering him head to toe, and gleaming in the sun of the early morning dawn. It shone with the fine allure of polished silver, his pauldrons marked with the holy regalia of the God Amon, and the church of the Orthodoxy. He drew as he took the last step into the clearing, a longsword of marvelous color, a strange interplay of green and yellow dancing on the metal's surface. It's guard was rounded like a fencing blade, but it was no rapier, but a fine longsword which caught the reflection of both the blue sky above and the dew-wet green grass covering the ground. He bore no shield, and took both hands to his weapon.

"I am Umar Law, this cities champion. Who will represent you, King in chains?"

Noa stepped forward. "I represent my people, myself, and this world."

Umar scoffed and raised his sword, leveling the tip to Noa's eyes. "Then draw your weapon."

Noa's forked black tongue whipped from between his lips for a moment as he smiled. "I already have, Sir knight."