The Rider scrambled up to his feet, readying his weapon. The Shade landed in a crouch, drawing his own swords. The Shade rose, not bothering with a combat stance; he deflected two blows from other attackers before they were killed by Marcus and Shane. Single-mindedly, he engaged the Captain. One attack. Two attacks. The Captain was on the offensive.<br/><br/>"I am an assassin." Three, four. Cain's many voices all shook with anger. "I kill people with power. People who compromise." Five. "People who deserve it. I am a spy. I kill people as an act of war." Six. As he deflected the seventh attack he disarmed the Captain, sending his longsword a few feet to his left. In the same swift move, he spun, driving both blades at the Captain's stomach. The Captain flinched, but the blade had stopped short. The Captain's eyes widened as Cain stood their, motionless, turned away from him. Seeing an opportunity, the Captain backed away, body turning ever so slightly toward his fallen blade. A single word issued from the Shade's many voices: "Ghalin." For a second onlookers seemed to hear the simple command "Feel," overlaid above the foreign command in their heads in their native tongues.<br/><br/>The Captain doubled over in pain as though struck by the blades that had missed him moments before. Cain pulled the blades forward effortlessly, the Captain writhing as though the blade had been pulled from his gullet. No mark, nor blood marred his armor. Sheathing the blades Cain turned to the Captain. "What you did," he continued, "was neither. It was not an act of war. It did not change the course of history. Did they even know what it was you were asking them?" He paused. "I thought not." His eyes narrowed. "The Twelve have judged your wanton act of bloodshed. You have slain innocents needlessly and have been judged."<br/><br/>The Captain had, through this been crawling to his sword. "Ghalin. Frishkul ghalin. Shaerul uth ulfrishgar nen ghalin. Ka ne." In your head you hear, seemingly over top of the word of the Shade "Feel. Feel every blow. Feel every cut with which you struck them down. You have been judged." And as surely as the Shade's menacing figure stood there, the Captain writhed, jerking this way and that as though tossed by the weight of repeated attacks. Still no damage. The sight of his bloodless corpse moments later was eerie.<br/><br/>Cain for his part seemed suddenly less impressive. The display had seemingly left him weakened. "Il cruma gash argin," he muttered under his breath, the words, "Curse this frail shell," sound faintly in your brain. His shadowy figure seemed more definite, less random. Only a momentary lapse in his balance occurred. Better than before. Either the shell was becoming more resilient, or it was breaking down completely. No matter.<br/><br/>"I shall return," he said in a single voice, and disappeared over a rise, just off the road to meditate.