Watching as they carted the dragon away, Faelan’s heart started to beat. Walking behind them slowly as they started head towards the Pit, they lead him to the armory, and he saw his weapons, in pristine condition, on a table. He walked over and grabbed his magnum, looking at the beautiful piece of weaponry. The 10.5 inches of barrel lead to recoil dampener, the grip firm yet comfortable. A Model 500 S&W, often marketed as one of the most powerful handguns on the market. Picking it up and opening up the cylinder, he saw that indeed, all but one of the five bullets in the chamber were rubbers.<br/><br/>Walking over to the other end of the table, he saw his sword laying on the table, covered by its intricate sheath. He’d spent his own time and money having this sword handcrafted by a master blacksmith. In order for the metal itself to be susceptible to magic, it had to be forged in a demon’s blood, using embers only capable to obtain and maintain through magical means. The hilt seemed simple enough, yet held a massive amount of sentiment, the pommel being adorned by a lock of his mother’s braided hair, the platinum braid of his sister around the grip, wrapped tightly around the piece of wood he’d used to kill his first demon. He lifted the sword, holding it easily in one hand despite its size. The blade was just shimmering as he slid the four-foot blade over his palm. Runes etched into the surface of the metal sparkled as they neared the tattooed runes on his fingertips.<br/><br/>Tying the scabbard to his hip, behind him, he smiled, realizing the battle playing out on the leather would be visible to his demon bond mate. The battle of Ragnarok, Thor fighting the Midgard serpent, Odin’s battle against Fenrir, a beautiful piece of work to say the least. It’d been polished, the scratches seemed deeper that way.<br/><br/>“Did you guys give the demon anything? For testing, she’s going to need to be armed just as thickly as I am. I need my tools fully equipped and in top condition. What’s a hammer without a nail eh?”