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post #61 of 72 (permalink) Old 12-21-12, 07:06 AM
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"All Roads Lead to Rome. Today, I wish they didn't. Not because I am afraid of war for I am no stranger to that, but because I am afraid of dying before my purpose is complete. Whatever my purpose in life may be."
~The Personal Journal of Robin Blake

If he swelled on the disappearance of the two hunters for longer, then Robin ran the risk of being overwhelmed by the massed assault. One of his arrows, even though it was hastily shot, found its mark in the Ogre's shoulder, but the creature paid no heed to whatever Robin could throw at it.

In danger of being overrun, Robin pulled back up the rows of seating in order to get a clear shot, and found that he was not alone. In this titanic battle, he had been joined by every long-rang specialized Hunter that had made the journey to Rome. Some were even using magic, and fireballs joined the arrows that he and his new-found companions loaded into the massed hordes below.

For a second, Robin almost believed that the combined archery from the Hunters and the skill of the close-combatants, the creatures would be defeated especially after seeing their heavy losses. But, to his distaste, they kept coming. At this rate, they would overrun them, no matter whether Robin was sitting at the back of the building or on the front steps. Suddenly, he noticed with growing interest that the air around him began to tingle. Looking around him, he quickly noticed that four men, all dressed in matching grey cloaks sporting silver swords that shined in the firelight, had taken up positions around the firing line of the Hunter. They were split so that they were two on each end, and as the beasts swelled forward, they seemed to break on an invisible wall of force. Taken aback for a moment, Robin was forced back into action when one of them shouted, "Keep firing!"

He didn't want to think about what would happen if he disobeyed, after all - why would he? They were on the same side. Unleashing his bow, Robin was relieved to see that this this wall only worked one way - it kept out the monsters but allowed him to kill them. As his arrow pierced the wall, its passage was marked with a slight blue flare. But before it had even reached its target, the Hunter had unloaded his arrows once again, and kept firing until he could fire no more. He didn't have to aim that hard, only over the heads of those on his time fighting below, because due to the massed attack of the monsters, it wasn't that hard not to miss.
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post #62 of 72 (permalink) Old 12-21-12, 09:22 AM
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Alexander's eyes snapped open, his entire body tensing as he leapt to his feet and drew the tulwar, both hands gripping the hilt as he scanned the area around him. He grimaced. He knew where he was immediately, as only one attuned to magic could. The glade that he was in was absolutely overflowing with magic, too much magic to be anything in the mortal realm of existance. This was a realm of monsters, and he knew which one. Summer. Where the Faeries of Summer lived, the ones that so many falsely assumed to be kind and friendly and good. The difference between a Summer and a Winter Sidhe was that the Winter would stab you in the front, while a Summer would stab you in the back, and were more aesthetically pleasing to fools who believed that monsters could be beautiful. Alexander was under no such illusions. The Summer Sidhe were dangerous, and he had killed more than a few over his century of life.

The glade was a perfect circle, except for one exit. A stream led out, passing through trees that were too green, sounds that were too musical to be natural animal sounds, and a sky that was too blue and too clear for his liking. Alexander preferred the drab grey of a cloudy sky or better yet pure night, both were times when monsters emerged to be killed by him and others like him. Alexander decided to wait no more, and began to walk in the direction of the stream. He sensed it before he saw it, the shadow that emerged to block his way. It was immense and would have unsettled anyone less experienced than Alexander, who stood his ground, unflinching and turned to the source of the shadow.

A brown bear entered the glade, Alexander narrowed his eyes and entered a combat stance. The fact that the bear walked on it's hind legs in a grotesque parody of a human being would have alerted anyone to it's otherwordly nature, but the fact that it exuded magic like a human did breath told Alexander so much more about it. The creature, whatever it was, was old, very old. It's gait was that of a being with great knowledge earned through centuries of life and experience. None of that dissuaded Alexander from the potential of killing it. When it spoke, it's voice was deep and sounded like multiple voices speaking simultaneously.

"Welcome to the realm of Summer Wizard. I am Gaea and I have been tasked to bring you to the Summer Lady."

Alexander did not allow his surprise to reach his face, remaining stony and silent. The Summer Lady was a very powerful monster, one of the most powerful alive. Killing her would be an incredible achievement, yet he might be able to do it. The Lady was strong, but weaker than her compatriots and with enough magic fuelling his attack he would be able to fend off whatever she sent after him long enough for the tulwar to pierce her heart. No magical armor, spell or defense could stand against the tulwar's arcane energies. Yet Alexander's innate sensibilities could not reconcile complying with this creature's request. Dealing with monsters was a slippery slope, and Alexander had never taken that first step that led one to consort with them, and he never would.

"I am uninterested in dealing with monsters such as you and your master. I do not know how I have come to this place, but I will not tolerate being removed from the field when there are monsters that need to die. If it is within your power send me back, if not then begone from my sight creature."


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post #63 of 72 (permalink) Old 01-08-13, 07:05 AM
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Bishop Anders Sunesen was relieved to see that his bellowing, continued to get the hunters fighting with everything they had. This was not the time to let go of everything everyone had fought for, for so many years. They might not believe in demons or other greater evils, but unseelie fae they understood and knew they could be defeated.

Anders spotted the fae that had disrupted some of the ogres magical attacks, and he was moving towards the Bellog, easily defeating the black creatures. Some hunter a mage it seemed following him, providing some support to the fae.
It was clear that the Ogre Bellog perceived them as the greatest threat, as all his attention was on them. Bishop Sunesen spotted a chance, he could flank the ogre from the other side if he moved quickly. Yelling to the group of ranged hunters for some cover, Bishop Anders moved through the defensive line of hunters he had help create, bashing a demon creature away with his heavy mace, not looking to see if it was dead or incapitated.

Grasping his wooden necklace with a cross, Bishop Anders Sunesen started a prayer, all the while he defended himself against any attacking creature that got close, all the while he moved closer to the ogre Bellog.

"Blessed be thee most holy of powers, God of the high heavens, master of the sky and this earth. Bless me with your powers to smite this creature, that is working to stop your servants from during there duty, to protect those that can not protect themselves, against the evils that plague this earth. Bless me with the holy powers of the elements to burn and smite this creature, to teach it its erroneous ways of paganism and heresy. Show it your wrath through me, your humble servant and willing subject. Amen"

As Anders came closer to completing his prayer, electricity played up and down his left arm, focusing around his cross. His sleeves becoming singed at the hems, but Bishop Sunesen could feel both the wrath and love from his god, as his power manifested. Protected from any harmful effect of the holy lightning, that shot out and across the room, hitting the the Ogre Bellog with a loud crackling boom. The ogre screaming in pain and uncontained rage, as the powerful holy electric force of Anders smite played across the ogre, igniting his hair and clothes. And it was not a second after, another scream from the ogre sounded, as it clasped a hand to its stomach, where the other fae had slashed him with his sword.

Bishop Anders knew he could not call on another smite for some time, but they had wounded the ogre and now was the time to finish him off. Anders was certain this Ogre was too dangerous to let live, so he quickly kept on moving towards the Ogre, to engage him in melee supporting the fae that obviously had a weapon that could kill Bellog more easily than Anders mace would be able to do.

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post #64 of 72 (permalink) Old 01-24-13, 11:05 PM
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Eira was in a low crouch as the troll recovered and started to walk towards her, limping slightly due to the small wound that she had caused it. It growled as it moved towards her, its intention clear due to the wound that she had dealt it. She breathed heavily as it got closer, she was afraid she would freely admit, but fear could help her live. She had the desire to live, the desire to see her family again. The desire to fight the darkness and help Vladamir however she could. These beasts had proven his point to her, though she must admit if she were to die she would be able to see him once more, to apologize to him.
She hoped that someone would notice the slight women fighting against the huge troll and would be able to come over and help but she doubted it, there were so many of the beasts.

Suddenly she heard a shriek from her left and turned as three of the smaller fiends rushed towards her. Swearing she barely had time to bring her dagger up to stop the first one, slashing its throat with her silver blade. It shrieked as it died, though she knew the next two would at least knock her to the floor as she wouldn’t have time to kill them before they leapt on her.

As they were leaping she almost cried out in surprise as she two objects streak past her, ruffling her hair before they slammed into the creatures, killing them both instantly. She looked down to see the objects to be arrows, the archery skills matched her own. She had wished she had brought her weapons to fight, but she had been a fool. She suddenly felt herself lifted off the ground as a fist closed round her midriff and knocked the wind out of her. She cried out in pain as she was lifted up by the wounded troll as it brought her close to its face, stabbing its arms a few times on the way. It held her out of reach though she could smell its breath as it breathed on her, and even smelt her.

She gagged as it breathed on her, its breath was foul and she would have been sick if she was facing this life or death situation. She felt her eyes watering before in a frenzy she started to stab its arm repeatedly with her dagger, hoping that either someone could come and help her, or she would cause enough damage to make it drop her.

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post #65 of 72 (permalink) Old 02-04-13, 07:08 PM
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Blackness faded, to be replaced by light. As consciousness returned, awareness of my surroundings came with it. I awoke to the scent of grass and trees, their scent that of such things soon after rain. The sound of birds singing, and the sight of small animals around me greeted me as I pushed myself onto all fours before standing. The grove was so beautiful that I instantly checked my side for my sword but found it missing. I looked around, seeing Dragon Fang resting on the ground. Words cannot describe the relief I felt upon seeing that sword.

With it in my hand, I felt whole and ready to face the Fae who controlled the grove I was in. For I had no doubt that I was in the realm of the Seelie Fae. The place was too perfect, far too perfect to be wholly natural. No, magic was at work here. Fae Magic.

I relaxed my muscles, releasing the tension. But I did not truly relax, for to do so might be suicide. Looking around I saw that there was only one way to leave the grove and I made for it, holding Dragon Fang tightly in both hands. I had only moved a few paces however when the buzzing flutter of wings behind me had me spinning with my blade in a guard position. It was a three and a half foot tall faerie that settled itself on the grass and gazed at me with black eyes that were too large. It’s stare was unnerving.

After a few seconds it still hadn’t spoken so I turned to leave. But the exit had vanished. I turned back to the faerie.

“I would know the name of my jailer,” I said calmly, sitting cross legged on the ground with my hand on Dragon Fang’s hilt.

The fae grinned, his almond eyes sparkling like emeralds as he inclined his head and spoke. "Welcome to the land of summer Hunter, but sooth, I am no jailer. Guide, informer, purveyor of information yes, but jailer no. Nor is this a jail, you can leave whenever you wish, provided you meet certain conditions. I am Tulessantisidhe."

I felt my heart sink. I really was in the land of the Seelie fae. And I had never been in more danger in all my life...

We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment - and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly.
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The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.

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post #66 of 72 (permalink) Old 03-04-13, 03:47 PM Thread Starter
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"It will take all that is good and right in this world to overcome the challenges that lie before us. Allies between peoples and nations that have long harbored dislike and hatred for one another must put aside the differences that continue to separate us. An evil is coming the likes of which have not been seen since the first days, since when the gods of old breathed life onto this world. If we stay divided, if those that treasure life and freedom refuse to work together, I fear that we already may be lost."

Exerpt from the personal journal of Vladamir Prokofski
December 14th, 1577

Alexander (Lord of the Night): Gaea, its great beastial face turned towards you, grunts in surpise, "You would spurn an invitation from Lady Summer? Very well mage, I will take your rejection to my Lady, but be warned, in the coming conflict even you who wield the powers of the arcane will need allies. It is unwise, bordering on foolish to turn your back on those that would offer aid out of some misguided sense of human perception."

Before you are even able to respond, a sudden heat fills your veins, as if fire was trying to consume you from the inside out permeates your body. Though it is uncomfortable, it is not painful. The glade around you disappears from view, the last thing you see is Gaea, walking from the glade, an unmistakeable look of saddness on his great face.

Cold and dark assail you as the cavern you were once in materializes around you and you are dropped into the midst of the battle that continued on in your absence.

Alexander (Lord of the Night) , Livoc (Romero's Own) , Robin (Bane_of_Kings), Bishop Anders (Anilar), & Henry (HOGGLORD): You all hear a thundering noise, as if a huge host of cavalry was bearing down on you. Ahead of the noise that seems to radiate from the back wall of the amphitheatre, behind where Prokofski had been speaking, the scent of wildflowers, fresh grass after a summer rain, and honey permeates the large room. With a blinding flash of light a opening, a working of magic far greater than you could imagine, slowly ripples open and through it come a host of centaur warriors. Great beast of the Summer Court that crash into the amphitheatre, the sound of their hooves on the stone echoing around the chamber. The small creatures, almost in unison shriek and flee. The ones closest to the opening get trampled as the Centaurs hack and slash their way to the trolls on the other side of the room. Putting aside whatever feelings you harbor toward the Fae, you can see that the arrival of these formidable warriors is a turning of the tide. The each bear a pair of long curved swords that they use in a whirling fashion that belies their size. In no time at all the Centaurs, working in pairs, have cut down 6 of the 12 remaining trolls. As the trolls fall, the small creatures all be vanish in their haste to flee. This doesn't happen quickly enough for all of them and each of you is able to kill another 2-3 as they try and run.

Eira (Lord Ramo): The damage you are able to do to the trolls wrist barely annoys it and you can feel your ribs beginning to constrict, blackness flitting at the edges of your vision. You have enought time to think that this is the end, that your death will come at the hands of this raging beast, before you black out. Oddly you feel the sensation of falling, then a jarring impact at that snaps your eyes open. The cold stone beneath your cheek forces a ragged breath into sore lungs. As you blearily peer towards the troll, you see and older man, his sword shining like the noon day sun engage the beast. His swordsmanship beyond peer, a strange nimbus of light around him, he goads the beast into hasty strikes that fail to meet their mark. You see the trolls severed hand still clutched around you. You feel that you may be able to pry it off, but what do you do from there? You see a spear, excellently crafted, its blade etched with strange runes laying nearby, its owner still cluthing the haft, but his head is a mass of blood pulp, crushed by one of the massive trolls. Free yourself and take up the spear.

Edward (Santaire): Tulessantisidhe takes flight, his wings buzzing in a steady hum as he raises himself up to stare into your face. "There is something odd about you mortal," he says almost matter of factly, like he can read something in the depths of your eyes, "Fate swirls around you in a strange way." Shaking himself, muttering to himself, "If you want to know more, payment must be made." Not letting you ask anything about what he is saying, he spins in mid-air, his pensive look replaced quickly by a knowing and mischieveous smile. "Come along fleshling, my Lady awaits." He leads you out of the garden glen, through natural places, the beauty of which almost drives other thoughts from your mind. Great distances seem to leap by in the blink of any eye as you walk behind the tiny fae. Though it is difficult to concentrate, the strangeness of the Tulesantiside and his strange pronouncement is foremost in your mind, as he leads you to a great wall of brambles. Interspaced between thorns that seem to grow to a foot long are the most beautiful roses you have ever laid eyes on. In the wall, two great doors made of still living oakwood bar your path. Uncertain as to what you will find on the other side you push on them and as they open a bright light blinds you and a voice musical, alluring, tempting calls out to you, "Welcome warrior, I am Aurora, Lady of Summer, Keeper of the Spring Flame, and Guardian of the West."

[For those of you that were signed up for this RP that do not have an update, it is because you have not posted for sometime and I am moving your characters to an NPC status. If you wish to rejoin the RP I am more than happy to have you, just get with me and I will get you an update.]

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post #67 of 72 (permalink) Old 03-04-13, 04:25 PM
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As the creature turned to face Alexander he stifled the urge to raise his blade and attack. He had not been paid to kill this creature, and it was not trying to kill him... yet. It almost seemed rejected as it spoke,

"You would spurn an invitation from Lady Summer? Very well mage, I will take your rejection to my Lady, but be warned, in the coming conflict even you who wield the powers of the arcane will need allies. It is unwise, bordering on foolish to turn your back on those that would offer aid out of some misguided sense of human perception."

Alexander would have laughed had the heat not begun to build up in his veins. For a moment he thought it treachery, but it was not pain he felt. Rather, power. The bear-thing, Gaea, actually seemed sad that his mistress's offer had been rejected. Alexander mentally scoffed, he would never accept an offer from the Fae. Those who did always regretted it in the end, no matter how small or harmless the offer seemed, the Fae always wanted something in return and it was never good. Only a fool would deal with creatures whose very nature was trickery and double-speak. And Alexander Valkium was no fool.

In an instant he was back in the battle, the smoke-demons scurrying about the battlefield. Several hunters were dead, and many were being forced back by the advance of the trolls. Alexander ripped the Tulwar free and struck at the nearest demon that had not seen him, the blade punched through it's open jaw and ripped clean through it's skull as he pulled it skywards. Before he could charge to another he felt the tremors, something was coming. Something big. And there were clearly a lot of them. He could smell the glade again, the scent of wild flowers and honey. And then he knew what was coming. Summer.

The centaur horde that charged from the portal were a force of mighty strength. Alexander had fought a centaur once and it had been a hard-fought battle, but he had prevailed in the end. The demons shrieked as they were trampled into the ground under the centaurs hooves, those further away fled in terror. Not one to let a monster escape Alexander lashed out, taking another two demons down at the legs and finishing them with swift strikes to the head. Taking a moment he looked at the group of hunters that were near him and noticed something, the one who had also been taken was not among them. Alexander cursed under his breath, clearly that hunter had accepted the invitation to the Summer Lady's court. Whomever he was, Alexander hoped he was not foolish enough to deal with the Fae.

It never ended well.


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post #68 of 72 (permalink) Old 03-08-13, 07:25 PM
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Henry’s head began to buzz and his vision blurred as the blood from the wounded shoulder continued to flow. He was having difficulty in breathing due to the broken ribs he now had, each breath was a painful rasp. The mountainous troll began rumbling forwards, a deep, throaty growl building up inside it. Henry considered his options quickly. There were two standard mindsets: Fight or flight, fight was the option taken when his highest chance of success was overcoming his foe in combat. This was not one of those situations.

Henry made a rather ungraceful movement, rolling bodily to his left to avoid the troll’s rampaging charge. Pain stabbed at him and his shoulder was beginning to feel increasingly slick with blood. Henry battled desperately with his body, forcing it to remain conscious.

The troll rounded on him again and Henry saw no escape rout this time. He hauled himself up to one knee, drew his crossbow and, with a surprisingly steady hand, aimed it at the beast. If I can’t beat this bastard, he thought, I can at least leave him something to remember me by. He loosed his first shot, it struck true, puncturing the troll’s chest. The troll, however, did not seem to notice for a few moments. Then he pulled the bolt from his chest, still moving. The second bolt struck him in the throat. The speed at which the troll charged slowed from the speed of a frenzied horse to something more akin to a bear’s charge. Slower, but far from slow enough. As Henry threw up his hands to shield himself, a flash of color flew past his vision, accompanied by a wind that had only been rivaled in force by a storm upon a Scottish cliff. He saw an azure robed man, a metallic staff clutched in his grip, had placed himself between he and the troll. Lightning snapped and cracked, engulfing the troll. It took another five seconds for Henry to realize that he had a hope of surviving this fight. This was promptly dashed when he saw another pair off trolls.

“Merda.” He groaned in Italian, an odd habit he’d picked up, and unsteadily got to his feet. This wasn’t an amazing start to proving himself in front of the higher, more experienced echelons of the Hunters. He tried to raise his weapon, but before he could loose a shot, he heard a thundering noise, as if a huge host of cavalry was bearing down on him. Henry spun around, searching for the source of the sound. The noise that seemed to radiate from the back wall of the amphitheatre, behind where Prokofski had been speaking, the scent of wildflowers, fresh grass after a summer rain, and honey rushed into Henry. With a blinding flash of light an opening, evidently magical in origin, slowly rippled open and through it came a host of centaur warriors. They were lithe and graceful, yet equally terrifying t o behold. The great beasts of the Summer Court crashe into the amphitheatre, the sound of their hooves on the stone echoing around the chamber like gargantuan drums. The smaller creatures were trampled as the Centaurs rushed towards the trolls advancing upon Henry.

Henry had always wanted to see a centaur, though he knew that they could well be a new foe. They each bore a pair of long curved swords that they use in a fluid whirling fashion. In a brief moment the Centaurs, working in pairs, cut down half of the trolls, including the two near Henry. As the trolls fell, the small creatures all began vanish in their haste to flee. Henry noticed that his crossbow was loaded, so he released a bolt into one, who tripped, bumping into one of it’s ugly kin, who fell on a discarded sword.

Henry laughed softly to himself, then looked up at the centaurs, who were making such quick work of the trolls that one or two of the hunters seemed distinctly embarrassed. Henry tried his best to look as if he had been in complete control of the situation. He didn’t do so very well, it was difficult when you looked as if you’d just fallen off a building into a stampede of rhinos.

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post #69 of 72 (permalink) Old 03-10-13, 11:36 AM
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"Reinforcements can dictate the tide of the battle. If they had been on the enemy's side then I don't think any of us would have made it out alive, but luckily... The Centaurs seem to support the Hunters. At least... in this fight." ~The Personal Journal of Robin Blake

The first thing that the thundering noise reminded Robin Blake of was as if a huge host of cavalry bearing down on the Englishman. Ahead of the noise that seemed to radiate from the back wall of the ampitheatre, behind where Prokofski had been speaking a blinding flash of light produced an opening, displaying a working of magic far greater than Robin could even hope to imagine. Slowly, it rippled open, and it wasn't long before the archer sighted a great host of Centaur warriors, great beasts of the Summer Court announcing their dramatic arrival as the crashed into the amphitheatre, the sound of hooves on stone echoing around the chamber.

It didn't take long for the small creatures to loose their morale alltogether with this new unexpected arrival and flee. The ones closest to the opening were trampled by the Centaurs as they hacked and slashed their way through the melee, to the trolls on the other side of the room. Robin realised that he had been gawping all too long, and had to quickly but accurately launch his weapons into the air.

Putting aside his feelings of distrust towards the Fae, Robin could see that the arrival of these formidable warriors was well and truly turning the tide - for they each boasted a pair of long curved swords that reinforced their already deadly strength. Working in pairs and in no time at all, the Centaurs cut down six of the twelve remaining trolls, causing the morale of the enemy to collapse completely and what little brave and foolhardy fighters remained, they were quickly being trampled upon by their allies in their haste to flee. Adding another arrow to the already numerous horde that had been fired in the creatures direction, Robin was able to bring down one from a distance. Seconds later, another was brought down as well, increasing his kill count by two, before putting a wounded beast out of its misery with an arrow to the heart.

The tide had turned in the side of the Hunters, and there was no way it would be turning back.
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post #70 of 72 (permalink) Old 03-10-13, 05:37 PM
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Livoc could feel blood flowing from a wound in his face and he fell to his knees even as the creatures rose to attack him once more. Too weak to even raise his head Livoc let his eyes close and his brain slip away towards the darkness even as he felt claws tearing at his clothes and flesh. But the pain was distant, beyond his reach and unfelt. The scent of wildflowers, fresh grass after a summer rain, and honey flooded the Illusionists senses as he his grip on life weakened. But the peace he was feeling was shattered in a heartbeat.

A blinding flash of life and the sensation of magic in the air brought Livoc back from the brink and the thundering sound of hooves forced his eyes open. Livoc saw the small creatures that had been slashing at his motionless body only moments before shriek and flee, knocking aside their own kind in their desperation to escape.

Livoc turned his head to see a majestic sight riding towards him, Centaurs, hundreds of them, were storming across the amphitheatre. Their long curved swords slashing down all those that stood before them. The small creatures died in droves and Livoc could only watch with amazement as the Centaurs, working in perfect partnership with their kin, slew the trolls that had only moments before had full control of the battlefield.

Livoc allowed a smile to dance across his face as he saw the tide of the battle turn in the hunters favour. But a lance of pain reminded him of his wounds and once more his head slumped to the ground as darkness threatened to consume what life he had left.

The Silent Lions Chapter

Winter Falls


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