The sun was rising in the east, just peaking over the mountains that lay in that direction, casting a yellow glow upon the mesa where Ekkehardt found himself today. His sword had already manifested itself. He had come at a request from the Vizard leader Vai'el Grace to have a spar to see how strong they were against each other. With no pressing duties he had agreed, and so the Quincy Emperor was standing, waiting, for his opponent to make his appearance. His cloak had been foregone for this duel, as it would only be a hindrance. The cold air of the high altitude chosen for the fight did him no favors, but with the sun rising his own abilities would only grow in strength. Alexander looked forward to clashing blades with the ancient warrior.