Board Thread:Random RP/@comment-25597877-20170112232225/@comment-26444332-20170115051521

Achilles smiles, and thrusts the tip of his spear into the ground.

'The contract is made, the duel is begun. Diatrekhōn Astēr Lonkhē!'

Golden patterns like circuits flare from around the spear, racing across the ground in four different directions, then curling to create a ring about ten feet in width. They burn, then flare with blinding light, and the world goes white for Solomon.

Once the light fades and the spots clear from his eyes, Solomon beholds a wasteland. A flat ground, smoldering in places, with old spears and swords lying around, stuck in the ground, or leaning against broken chariots. Rusty armor lies cast off on the ground. Achilles spreads his arms, gesturing to the surroundings.

'Welcome to the battlefield of the Trojan War, young metahuman. This is my Dueling Field: we will not be interrupted here.'