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BARTHOLOMEO
In the livid crimson of the early evening sunlight, a blade glimmers. The pirate stumbled upon the deer-hilt knife in the dirt, and gleefully added it to his collection. Since losing his swords to the thieves - the thieves he still has not tracked down to reclaim his possessions - he has been sorely lacking in weaponry. His two daggers are not what he's used to, but they are better than nothing. The lack of his magic means he cannot wield them as he once did, whirling around him like a silver storm, but he can still brandish them in his mouth. That is what he does with his newly-acquired weapon. The hilt, wound with rawhide for grip, is clutched firmly between his teeth, the deadly blade poking out in preparation. Bartholomeo wanders into the centre of the World's Edge, the early evening finally chasing away some of the searing Tallsun heat. The stallion's muscular body glows with a light sheen of sweat, the orange horizon creating an ethereal glow around him as he strides to a halt with a snort. It is high time for him to test himself against another Edge member, especially given his position as warrior, and now he has a new knife to use he feels more than ready to reassess his abilities. He pauses, tossing his proud head with excitement, and unleashes a bellow for an opponent. He stands with legs braced and his truncated tail held high, powerful neck arched and antlers pointing forwards in preparation. ______________ For @Tilney ! Set in the World's Edge, early evening, still warm but not unbearable. 0/3 - 266 words heroes always get remembered, but you know legends never die. |
