I appear amidst the first Fomorain rising once more. The war Abhartach had shown to me before, last time I was pulled out before it ended. I feel the ground cry with roars of men and women shedding their blood at war. I feel their cries as they fight for purpose, one to rule and one to be free.
Bres eyes Nuadu, both circling each other, occasionally sizing each other up.
Bres lets out a humourous chuckle and Nuadu reacts with a grunt.
"Always so crass, never one for honour, just like the first time we duelled," Nuadu snarled as he etched himself closer to Bres.
"Honour is for the weak, victory is all that matters and Fomorians have better results," Bres returned arrogantly.
"You share half our blood!" Nuadu growled with disgust.
"That blood makes me weak!" Bres retorted.
Abhartach s
