The boy counted his first measure as a success when the daggers, the knives, the demons of the Basin wound their way towards him, as they stopped and stared, expecting something, anything, from the youth who’d been catapulted into legions and warfare. He grinned again, exuberant and wild, a touch of potent, vivid savagery layered behind the wiles and charisma, stare glancing over those who’d been summoned, beckoned, from the desolate palisade. They proffered the quickest perusal, towards the bulkier Arion, whose heritage must have leant him some capabilities on the battlefield, to the chilling, ivory Beloved (Beloved? For what? To whom?), and even to the caustic Albrecht, lurking in the shadows (a silent judge?). He nodded, always polite, always courteous, barreling past the apprehension suddenly curling through his veins – because he stood along a precipice of uncertainty, no matter how his father had told him he’d be fine, no matter how he pressed and pushed himself to greater, grander heights. There were no jokes now, no silly virtues, and no boyish adventures waiting beyond the corridors when he tarnished and stumbled, when he faltered and slipped. He couldn’t afford to be chased out of the only world he’d truly ever known.
 
So he began.
 
“Thank you for meeting with me,” he bellowed, enigmatic and vivacious, the picture of artful endeavors, sketched and refined from callous whims and mercurial ambitions – but he was made of sterner stuff too, capable of tracing over the lines in the sand, in the snow. They would need something more, something different, something new and exciting to stir the mayhem, to boil and seal the seething armaments, to ensure they all aimed for the same things: success, no matter the height of chaos. They were the keepers, the guardians, the sentinels, and they couldn’t afford to be indifferent or apathetic. He knew so little about them, and they knew so little about him, and he wondered if that would make a difference – if they should forge more than just alliances, more than just names and faces, or resume much of the old, archaic mannerisms: to snarl, to sneer, to snicker when backs were turned or disagreements brewed. They could be rancorous, but not to each other, not when their empire depended on their skills, on their strengths. Perhaps that was what he feared most of all – apathy and indifference would continue to spread, trickle down through their world until they were all just moving voids, hollowed out and glaring vessels, stretched across the collapsing sphere and doing nothing about it. “I’m Erebos,” he started, and it felt light, airy, a mere whisper of what he truly was, but they’d see in time, embrace him for it or tear him asunder. “My mother was a scholar,” he continued, and Orsino wanted to barrel into him (where are you going with this?), said naught about his father because they all knew who he was, puttering over his story so that it could hit poignancy, so that it held force and mettle between his teeth. “She taught me to always seek knowledge and be willing to learn.” His eyes swept over Arion and Beloved, even to Albrecht, pondering if he’d gone too far or if he simply just wasn’t enough, but breathed again, puffed out his chest, glorified that beguiling smile all the more. “I want to see what you know, and then we shall learn together.” We’re comrades in arms, protectors of the realm. There was enough weakness in the sovereign already – but they couldn’t afford to be. They had to become proficient, understand, nourish the foundations simmering and seething along their tiny faction.
 
Maybe it was a different scheme, an alternative tactic, than screeching at them to recruit, to fight, to spar, to force themselves into roles and rituals that had been beaten down a hundred times before. But he wanted them to be more than the same old thing – they were creatures and cretins, fledged and encompassing the threshold of winter, mountains, and power - they should’ve craved potency and prowess. This was their time, their opportunity, to show the world what talents and capabilities they contained, how to nurture, how to finesse their skills and techniques. “We’re going to play a game,” and here his fiendish eyes sparked, fizzled, an entrancing look into the ghoulish, heathen chains tied, knotted, tethered, and gnarled behind his illustrious facets – glancing at his demonic companion, nodding, as the sable kitsune’s own expertise flared before them.
 
Along the stretch of their miniscule knoll, four saplings erupted from the ground, stretching towards the sky – their trunks thick, their wood hardened, their masses primed and ready for the future – and had they not been orchestrated solely by a cretin’s impressions, they might’ve towered over each of them in a few seasons. Nonetheless, they weren’t to be used for construction or mercantile – but for demolition, for destruction, for showmanship and instruction. He winked to each one of them, bobbing his head in a bright invitation to Albrecht as well, turning his head to glance at the trees standing in the stark field, awaiting disaster and ruin. “You have targets. Picture them as your enemies. How would you destroy them? What’s your best move?” The prince paused, wandering closer towards his small collection of warriors, embracing them as a part of his own heart and soul. “Will you manipulate magic? Will you wield brute force? What’s your strategy?” His head tilted, studying them, pondering over what they’d do and how they’d tackle the challenge. “Choose wisely. You’ll only be allowed to use it once.”

 [GAME TIME! Post order is a lie. Go go go.
 
There were will be several rounds of ‘destroy a tree’. This one entails merely showing your best move. What’s your go-to strategy? :D I’ll be posting after each round with IC tips/tricks (so it’s a game/lesson mode). The rounds will get progressively harder. Remember, you can only use a certain move once. (i.e. you may stab the tree, you may kick the tree, but you won’t be able to do kick/stab it again in the following rounds). Think of some varieties. ;D]

Erebos

clever got me this far - - then tricky got me in