>>5717717>>5717718>>5717720You are Kaelen Sunshadow, and today you come of age. All your years of training honing your skills with the bow and arrow, the traditional weapon of your people, must now come to bear. You are the next in line of succession and tradition holds it that you have the right to challenge your uncle for the right of succession. Your uncle is not an unfair ruler, so the people in general are unlikely to be strongly swayed either way - still, the elves of the Aurelian Savanna are heavy on tradition, and if you defeat him fair and square according to tradition your rights will be respected.
You wouldn't trade your Ember horse Dramyel for any Celestial. You've had him for years and the two of you hold a strong bond. You are sure he can carry you into victory.
You uncle rides Tyr, a pure blood Celestial from the tribe's best stock. Though imponent, it lives up to its reputation of second best - in battle, it might lack a bit of endurance compared to an Ember breed. Still, a fine choice nevertheless.
During the festivities, the Whispering Shaman comes to give you counsel.
"My dear Kaelen," she says, in her soft velvety voice, "I know you long for the leadership of the tribe, but I also know you're wise, wiser than your years, and as such wouldn't want to taint such a victory with kinslaying. There is a," she gives a pause filled with intent, "<span class="mu-i">precedent</span>."
"Precedent?"
"Yes, yes. In the history of our tribe, once an uncle so loved his nephew that they <span class="mu-i">staged</span> a competition and instead of bloodshed there was <span class="mu-i">good sport</span>."
"Say, enchantress... does <span class="mu-i">the goddess</span> approves of such shenanigan?"
"Well," she licked her lips, "<span class="mu-i">some</span> bloodshed is necessary. But it can be ritualistic. Cutting hands with daggers, pouring blood into cups. But the gist of it is," she smirks, "you must <span class="mu-i">better</span> him at <span class="mu-i">something</span>."
You ponder for a moment. Your uncle has been a warrior for much longer than you. He is probably better than you at <span class="mu-i">every skill</span> pertaining to the craft of a warrior. Horsemanship, swordfight, archery... you name it, he has decades of experience ahead of you. You need...
"Do you need <span class="mu-i">supernatural aid</span>?"
"Read my mind, enchantress."
"Well, there is a <span class="mu-i">potion</span>..."
"Wouldn't that be against the rules?"
"The only rule in a fight to the death is surviving."
"You wouldn't happen to have one such potion, would you?"
"The last stop we made at the <span class="mu-i">shrine</span>... let's just say I <span class="mu-i">stocked up</span>. Strength, speed, hell, toss in some <span class="mu-i">lightning bolt breath</span>, I got it all."
"Damn. You think uncle got some of that as well?"
"For sure. But he is unlikely to use anything too", she pauses, choosing her words, "<span class="mu-i">showy</span>."
"Do you have anything that would make me..."
"<span class="mu-i">Never miss a target?</span> Got it."
"So I could challenge him to a marksmanship duel!"
"That's the spirit! <span class="mu-i">Or</span>... you could put an arrow straight through his skull. Your choice, really."
