Isk'Karra wandered through the wastes, shielding his eyes with one of his tendrils as he walked, a sour expression on his reptilian face.<em>Why</em>he had chosen to allow himself to come to this dusty, excessively dry stretch of land, he could not fathom... Yet there he was, trudging up more dust that simply got lost in the flurry that assailed him. He felt absolutely parched under the unforgiving sun and abrasively dry air... despite having only taken a drink minutes before.<br/><br/>He sighed heavily, stopping momentarily to wipe his brow of sweat and dust and take another drink from his water skin. As he lowered the canteen with a rather exaggerated sound of satisfaction,  he looked about, trying to see if he could find any shelter from either the sadistic sun or devilish dust. He could hardly see anything through the thick cloud, but he managed to spot the silhouette of what might be a caravan and either a large outcrop of rocks or a cave. He couldn't sense anything from where he stood, but decided to press on towards whatever unfortunate fool had decided to cross these lands... "As I have." He added to aloud, reprimanding himself for insulting people he did not know.<br/><br/>He was tired, but not overly so... So when Isk'Karra finally heard fighting on the wind and felt the malicious intent of several men, his expression went to one of comprehension, then anger. He held an open hand facing out and to the side, gathering the energies necessary from himself and the world around him for his glaive. It swirled like dizzy fog up his arm and out to either side of his palm, forming the shaft and blade in mere moments as he began running.<br/><br/>He rushed past the malefactor whom had been sent to fetch rope, attempting to knock the man flat and out with the butt of the long pole-arm. Once inside, he noticed the seven people within the cave... two down, though one was dead while the other just dangerously close to blacking out... and, on a completely separate note, clearly neither human nor male. Ignoring her for the moment, he turned a dark glare upon the people he guessed were slavers.<br/><br/>"Men of malicious intent..." He spoke with only a slight accent, but haltingly, as if he had not practiced speaking English in a long time. "Cease your activities and leave..." The cave was to small to really get to work with his glaive, so he settled for the shock value of having half of it split off, the two parts becoming wicked looking twin long daggers. "Or I will force you." He settled into the stance his master had taught him, both daggers ready for the fight Isk'Karra was sure to come.