Suurjuht

Suurjuht was the strongest of the plejagxuloj; at the tail end of the a'nak's experimentation on their kind and the closest to the gods' vision that the Enhanced had become. He was a veritable tower of iron muscle and metal bone, physically built with the sturdiness one would expect from a fortress. No one had ever defeated him--not even the suicidally-belligerent Urthadar.

And so it shocked the laconic warlord to be petitioned for combat by one of the weakest of their number. He had known him but only briefly; Ouhtbet was the dreamer among their kind, mindful, a visionary. Suurjuht understood in his own way the desire to reflect inward on the myriad threads of higher thought, but he had not himself perfected his meditations. It was these meditations, however, that led to their encounter--and their duel.

Now he crouched low to the ground, silent and introspective and quite damp as his blood seeped forth and dried upon him beneath the blistering sun. Many countless spears had him thoroughly immobilized, fired off by Ouhtbet's hidden ranks: an almost choreographed ambush and assault. It was a magnificent display of the thinker's tactical prowess, and finally, the warlord had been bested.

His hands rested limp, open-palmed, before his opponent. Suurjuht could not move his limbs as they, along with the rest of him, had been effectively impaled. His brilliant copper hair almost beautifully framed his face, for a moment offering a glimpse into piercing eyes that held a glimmer of much higher, much more contemplative thought. He smiled ruefully, baring the sharp teeth of an animal.

"I respect you, Ouhtbet," he said. There was not a lick of resentment in his words; no insincerity, no bitterness nor spite. "I did not expect you to meet my force... and indeed, you have usurped me."