Blackeye
Not the strongest win the battle —
After a tough day of fighting, Blackeye went to rest. His body screamed for mercy, every muscle was aching. He knew he was getting too old for this. He washed his hands and face and prepared his pipe, to get ready for the night shift. Checking his equipment, he walked out of his tent.
He felt the change of air and the temperature. No earth under his feet, no, just solid obsidian. No more pain in his body, it was almost like he slept many days. Around him, he saw obsidian walls that didn't seem to be made by humans. He tightened the grip on his weapon and thought to himself whether it had always been this heavy. The armor didn't seem to fit well anymore either.
"What the hell happened?" he shouted. Then he realized his voice sounded different. I got weaker, he thought, was it magic? He adjusted the leather straps of his armor and readjusted the grip on his weapon. He left the building through the front door and takes a look at the wasteland before him.
He felt the change of air and the temperature. No earth under his feet, no, just solid obsidian. No more pain in his body, it was almost like he slept many days. Around him, he saw obsidian walls that didn't seem to be made by humans. He tightened the grip on his weapon and thought to himself whether it had always been this heavy. The armor didn't seem to fit well anymore either.
"What the hell happened?" he shouted. Then he realized his voice sounded different. I got weaker, he thought, was it magic? He adjusted the leather straps of his armor and readjusted the grip on his weapon. He left the building through the front door and takes a look at the wasteland before him.
— the smartest do
