how a battle is won
Dawn is just arriving, the sun just barely coming above the horizon, yet painting the sky is shades of red and orange. Clouds clutter the sky and there is a thread of rain. The air smells stale, yet has that musty scent of rain. Just beyond the horizon, lightning pierces the dark clouds, connecting them to the ground in a large crack of electricity. Thunder erupts throughout the plains, the ground shakes in response. The sound is deafening. The world is ready for the onslaught of rain the clouds threaten to produce. And amongst this brewing storm is something that no one expected to see.
Just on the other side of the plains, there stands a stallion far greater in height than should be possible. His build is large and muscular, much like the build of a heavy draft mix. Atop his head is a pair of antlers that can be likened to those of a moose. His body is dark, sooty brown in color, his eyes darker than night. He is staring across the plain with a posture that can only mean one thing: he is here to fight and he is here to win.
The rain begins slowly at first, a drop or two or three. The temperature plummets at least five degrees as the wind shifts. Torstein stands downwind, the wind whipping through his mane as he looks on at the antlered beast that stands before him approximately a half of a kilometer (1/4 of a mile) away. And as the two stallions face off with one another, something happens.
The sun hits a sheathed dagger upon Torstein forelimb. The dagger is large in size, made of wood, resin, and stone. The sun flickers off the clear resin amongst the blue and it only seems as though the sun is reflecting off the weapon. But something is happening. There is a soft glow to the dagger, something that cannot be seen while sheathed. Magic is tracing each line of the weapon, filling it to its very core.
The antlered opponent begins his charge, his voice calling out with something deep and tribal. He is here to take claim over this land, of the plains, of Solterra, of Novus entirely. As his charge takes him towards Torstein, the ground beneath them quakes. Lightning strikes just to the left of the attacker, but he does not move, he does not flinch. He remains focused.
And when the time comes, Torstein should use his dagger, pulling it from the sheath and letting it easily pierce the skin of his opponent. And when it does, something magical will happen. When the blood of his antlered attacker hits the delicate grooves of the dagger, it will glow more brightly than ever before. Magic will once more fill each grove, each edge, acting as a sharpening block. The dagger will grow stronger, sharper, and will be ready to drive into the heart of his opponent.
@Torstein might have spotted the stallion coming to Novus will ill intent far before anyone else. Or maybe he only became intrigued by the way the stallion seems made of magic more than flesh and bone. But the stallion is charging and does it matter what either of them is made off when there's a battle afoot?
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