Thread: Battle For The Top [DamonHuntington x Janus]

With his Zweihander in his clutches, Warlord Tristan Drakton watched his surroundings, fully knowing that the fate of the war depended on the result of this one battle. One battle to determine the victor. One battle to determine who lost it all. Radukor-Lothark War Frontline, Seven Days Before The Fight The war seemed to drag endlessly, without any side getting any kind of advantage over the opponent. Tristan analysed the reports and saw that yet another group of warriors died in battle that night likewise, the provisions of Radukor were dwindling little by little. Soon there would be no water to sustain the whole regiment, nor enough food to maintain the levels of energy that the combatants required to operate appropriately. He knew, however, that the situation in the Lothark Kingdom's front was not different - after all, his spies reported the same level of resource depletion and low morale on the other side of the frontier. This could be expected, as the war dragged for more than six lunar cycles at this point the conflict seemed to have no resolution in sight. By this rate, everyone would perish and the whole war would've been of no practical result. I shall not accept this , said Tristan with a plan in mind. He grabbed his quill and a piece of parchment, writing a missive that would put end to the whole conflict. To the Warlord of Lothark, The war, as we both know, is currently not sustainable. These conflicts have lasted for long enough, and there are no signs of impending victory from both sides. If this continues, the winner will have a plot of land devoid of anything to rule I do not need to inform you how counterproductive that would be. Ergo, I come to you with a final proposition. We shall duel, you and I, until one emerges victorious - the result of this fight will determine who emerges victorious and takes control of the land, whereas the loser will be stripped of it all. No power, no control, nothing but a life of servitude under the rule of the winner. I need not remind you that war agreements are legally binding. I doubt that you'll emerge victorious, so it would be smart for you to refuse the agreement. In case your folly supersedes your prudence, though, I shall await for you in the seventh day from the arrival of this letter. Tristan Drakton, Warlord of Radukor During that same night, the emissary came back with the response from the opposing side. The war agreement was accepted. Perfect , Tristan spoke to himself. It seems like my plan is working exactly as intended. Present Time The event took massive proportions - nary a seat in the area was free, as all of the slots were filled with warriors that chanted and screamed for their respective Warlord to overcome victorious. The arena was filled with the sounds of fight, acting as a harbinger of the destiny that would befall the two nations. Tristan held the Zweihander upright as he taunted his adversary. Come and show me what you're made of, show me what you're worth. I doubt you'll stand your own for a whole minute , he professed with acid sarcasm, trying to get under the opponent's skin. Tristan fully knew that war was not only physical, but mental as well disrupt the opponent's thoughts and you end up disrupting the opponent's body. The arbiter of the fight raised his hand to the sky and shouted loudly, indicating that the combat had started. Immediately, the Warlord held his sword in an offensive position and began moving closer to his target. Soon it would all be over. Last edited Mar 9, 2020