Deep satin shadow steals stealthily over the Basin as Mother Night
descends and shrouds the land in her cool embrace. The mindless twittering of
squirrels fades to silence beneath the suffocating weight of darkness, as do
all other sounds save the clamorous cacophony of a murder of crows, stirring
from slumber upon the shadowed limbs of the Master Ravenwood. High in the
treetops of the Dark Forest, black widows brood in unwavering patience as they
skim skillfully across their silken webs, the faintest shiver of movement on
each strand sparking deadly, noiseless response; thorn beasts shift restlessly
in the gloam below, vines twining over spiked vines in warning sussuration
while translucent spiders, legs clicking imperceptibly, scuttle over the mulch.
The Glomdoring lies quiescent with the advent of night, calm, yet charged with
an undeniable sense of anticipation..

The deceptive stillness explodes in a flurry of motion as a dark shape
bursts from the densely-packed canopy of the Heart of Darkness, scattering
ebony clouds of crows in its wake as it ascends. Huge in comparison to His
smaller brethen, Crow arrows skywards, sleek and black, to snap into a
spread-winged hover directly above the center of the forest, nigh invisible
against the moonless heavens. Rhythmic pounding reverberates across the Basin;
the Drums of the Dead, thundering in unison with each beat of Crow's wings and
spewing forth a miasma of shadow corvidae, which race unseen across the land in
an unstoppable caliginous wave. A terrifyingly discordant caw rips the night air
asunder as the Night-feathered form squalls a raucous, unmistakable challenge,
calling forth His mortal enemy..

The Flame of Glinshari flares in response, raising a shimmering blue
conflagration that spreads like ghostly wildfire to the edges of the Serenwilde
forest, illuminating the air above the treetops but failing to pierce the heavy
velvet night. A concatenation of sparks flows forth from the Flame, weaving
itself into a circular lacework of scintillating luminescence which hovers
above the canopy; from its midst, White Stag trots into view, antlered head
held high and gleaming with an ethereal light, arrogance in every graceful
line. Behind Him, the twirling sparks unravel into a single thread and begin to
spin about His form, pooling brilliantly beneath His feet. Muzzle raised to the
heavens, He voices a full-throated bellow, the same note of challenge apparent
in the call..

Crow screeches back in defiance, wheeling majestically into motion and
spiraling ever higher into the sky before soaring soundlessly northwards on
spread wings, flanked by His murders. The smooth onyx ceiling of the Basin,
unsullied by the fickle constellations and devoid of Moon's false light,
betrays not His presence; the malevolent crimson glow of His all-seeing eye,
canted towards His shining foe, serves as the only warning..

Sensing the approach, White Stag rears and paws at the air with deadly
hooves, then lands on all fours and breaks into a canter, a glimmering trail of
sparks unfurling before His feet as He cuts swaths through insubstantial night
winds. Below his airborne form gallops herds of snow-white deer, doe and buck
alike, their hooves trampling fragile blades of grass into dirt in the frenzy
of their charge..

Shadow and spark meet first, darkness engulfing the light and light
searing away the darkness in a dazzling chiaroscuro. The match is even, neither
giving way to the next..

The embodied waves of light and darkness clash. Murders of crows peel
away in disorderly flocks to mob the hordes of deer, darting in and harrying
with blighted talons vulnerably exposed eyes, raking to draw blood before
retreating to the skies to avoid flailing antlers and thrashing hooves. Furred
and feathered, foaming with throbbing blight or crushed beneath threshing
hooves, the toll of bodies begins to build, as White Stag and Crow circle each
other warily in the skies above..

Crow toys with His nimble nemesis, taunting with derisive squalls and
unpredictable feints, liberated by the open air where White Stag is not. The
latter dances upon light feet, tossing His head uneasily as Crow swerves past
yet another time, close enough to touch; before long, Stag is incited to
response, rearing and lashing out with antlers and hooves with each pass made
by Crow. Yet the simple twitch of tailfeathers and minute angling of wings is
all the great bird needs to keep out of harm's reach; frustration peaks as Crow
makes crosses a line and lacerates Stag's pale hide with blight-tipped talons.
Belling out a scream of challenge, White Stag charges, His sudden speed and
power harrowing Crow to retreat in ascending spirals. Their paths twine
inseparably, each climbing ever higher, ebony chased by silver..

Crow's presence inexplicably evaporates into the loving embrace of
Mother Night. Shaking His head in confusion, White Stag slows, bemused by the
disappearance of His foe..

Pitch-black against the pitch-black night, Crow hovers over His enemy,
watching out with one scarlet eye for opportunity. It presents itself, wrapped
and beribboned, as Stag turns His back in fruitless search. Without a moment of
hesitation, Crow dives, a slash of lightning obsidian..

And with a resounding crack, snaps Stag's neck with one decisive strike
of clenched talons. Eyes glazing over in death, a bellow of surprise dying
unsounded in His throat, White Stag falls in a graceless arc towards the
earth..

..Crow's murders rise in ebon swarms, cacophonous in the exultation of
their victory..

..they feed victoriously upon the still carcasses of deer, slick with
blood and gore..

..Crow shrieks in triumph, bending His head over His fallen foe to rip
at soft white belly and feast upon still-warm entrails..

...

...

She wakes with a gasp, panting, flushed with success and the thrill of
the kill. As the adrenaline fades, she glances upwards, towards Crow's perch in
the treetops of the Master Ravenwood. A knowing smile curves her lips; unbidden,
snippets of her dream flash once again across her mind's eye - and she knows
them for truth, for it forecast Glomdoring's glorious future.

Supremacy.