Your Slice of Heaven
It had been foolish to fight the Lich. Maudril sprinted towards the monastery, his robes fluttering behind him as he ran. They would label him a coward, but then again, it wasn't very likely they would survive. But he would, for now.
The Theurge began to breathe heavily, his footsteps thudding heavily against the ground. A mass of shambling remains slowly approached from the horizon. A small obstacle, at best. He continued his pace, his confidence never fading. A flash of light, an explosion of bone, and the opposition was no more.
If only the assault had been this easy.
Mere moments passed and he found himself at the monastery's gate. Entering slowly, Maudril surveyed his surroundings. A group of panicked humans huddled against the wall as they observed him. They were frightened of everything, but they visibly relaxed when they realized he was Aasimar. He was one of the heroes.
I'm sorry
________________
He did not kill them, but they would likely be dead by the end of this. They simply stood, blank expressions across their face. They looked upon him like a god. Damn fools.
His fellow Aasimar would likely be dead, and perhaps they would have lasted longer had he stayed. But they did not understand. They could not understand. He saw the face of the enemy, the creatures of Oblivion. The Lich was not the enemy.
The Daemons were coming. The very embodiment of Evil. No Devilish enslavement. No Demonic destruction. Just consuming and growing, ultimately feasting on souls that would know no afterlife. The battle had shown him that the Gods could not offer any assistance.
No, he had to look elsewhere. And the thralls that had greeted him at the entrance had nearly completed their task. A brief moment of concentration and a rifts opened in three smaller circles. Angels floated within proudly, but immediately began struggling against the confines of the binding circles.
Cower, worship, or beg. All are valid choices.
26-Jan-2016 03:00:23
- Last edited on
31-Jan-2016 05:27:51
by
Quick5ilvr
