The party was shocked to see their leader on the ground. They all pulled their weapons and were about to go into battle, wanting to take vengeance for their master, but he yelled,
"Stop! This is my fight. Get the fuck away!" he cursed. Rage filled him, there was no more thought, just a man with blood in his eyes.
He struggled back to his feet. His party member tried to help him up, and he knocked away the hand. He gripped his sword, igniting the flames again.
Blood dripped from his face like a countdown. Then he lunged forward. "Arghhhh!" he roared, thrusting the sword. Grey dodged to the side, yet didn't keep his eyes on the blade—he kept it on the hand.
He had learned from his years of fighting that the body and the hands were where the actual attack happened. Every feint could be read if you watched the muscles closely and saw what direction they actually tensed toward and in what way they tensed up.
