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Schatten born from Thorn
Alpha of Schatten and Omega of Thorn
A shadowy figure emerges from the ruins of the smoldering lands, he had been observing the battle for several hours, long enough that dawn had slowly crept into the eyes of man and beast of these lands. The forested lands once held such a lush and vibrant place for tranquility to blossom forth, it was now a shadow of its former glory. Silver eyes darted across the area, he gazed out upon the apparent victor, flying away from the war zone, taking her prize along with her. He gazed out upon the vanquished, lying in a pool of misery and blood.

"Thou hath learned the difference in Will and Power, no?" He whispered unto himself, advancing slowly towards the vanquished until he was gazing over top him. "In time, the forest shall heal, but let this day forever burn in your memory."

Walter crouched and uprooted the weapon of the vanquished, a sword, and clutched it tightly by the hilt. Such things are deemed the spoils of war for the victor. He turned around, his gaze still fixated upon the sword as he walked the way he came about, disappearing into the shadows of the smoldering ruins.

Even the ashes of tranquility can be manipulated for the will of the Night.


Quite some time had passed since that time, the memory every present within his conscious mind, the sounds of screams and splattering of blood and death of plant life. For several hours, from atop the wrecked trees, he watched the duel between the Forest Elf and his companion Jaq. Lasting several hours until the breaking point of dawn, their carnage had wrecked all but the low level stumps and patches of secluded, resilient grass. He saw the burning embers, slowly choking the energy of tranquility and death giving way unto the shadows of yore's glory. What were they to do now?

The training given unto Lady Jaq had done surely paid off in merit alone and the prize she sought was secured in her vigilant grasp. Their Kin rescued from clutches of that most foul, the problem presented gone and their peace slowly returning amongst themselves. The end of the chapter over, its legacy surely not forgotten and spoils go to the victors...

~Thorn~

Tis the weapon of the vanquished, a powerful rather ancient sword from lands far east from here. The hilt draped with fiery red cloth, burning brightly as the embers did the night before. Its silver blade the color of Walter's eyes, radiating that of ominous doings, yet claimed resonate with that of a benevolent wielder. Shall the sword continue to lie, a wielder whom is vain filled with the blind acts of lust is not benevolent, but a fool. To Walter, Thorn has lived within the eons of deception and he was determined to reveal this unto it.

For they say all things are done within time, and surely, slowly this too shall be done. Thorn's true potential, that of a true wielder shall be known and let is wielder christen it a new name, that which shall be known far and wide.

Arise to your Lord, Schatten.





 
 
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