The field streched on for an incredible distance. The rolling plain was not very awe-inspiring or of any major variety. The same, ubiquitous golden grass coated the hills, creating this bland haze which shimmered and shifted as the wind rolled over the lands. But it was vast. Even without any major landmarks, or even a single tree, the field was enourmous, and even as Scythe stood in the center, he couldn't see the edges of this field.
He could, however, see his opponent. Lucius was slowly walking towards him from the distant hills of this massive field, slowly trudging through the windswept grass. His hands were empty, his cloak flowing around him, fluttering in each and every pluse of air. He drew closer, until Scythe could hear the scrape of his boots as he came to a stop on a low hill, about thirty meters off. Neither of them said a word for a passing moment, until Lucius broke the silence.
"Well, I've never been much for starting a battle. Would you care to take the first move?"
And with that, he streched his arms and stood, carefully watching his foe. He did not draw any weapons, nor did he call any magic upon himself; he remained unarmed for the moment, and awaited his opponent's rebuttal... |