Xholkrox didn't know what hit him, one minute he was swishing and twirling his 'blade' the next he was hurting in several places at one and was sitting on his backside in the mud.<br/><br/>How the older T'Ksrang had moved so fast he didn't know, but to say he was impressed would have been an understatement. The words "You are dead my friend" rang in his ears, strangely they didn't hurt, unlike the scorn of Brendan and his freinds. Xholkrox wasn't a vengeful T'Skrang and could be considered among the more peaceful denizens of the village, but the laughter of the failed farmer hurt him more than the 'sword' blows he had just received.<br/><br/>Climbing to his feet, now out of the battle the young T'Skrang fixed his gaze on the group of rough houses, with barely a  a sound the T'Skrang leapt at the group his tail and 'blade' twirling his intent to cause them, as much pain as he felt from their laughter and to pay them back for all the humiliating names and cat calls they had heaped on him and his friends that night.<br/><br/>