G
Goldenblack
Guest
A reaper!!!
Recognition surged into movement as Golden-eyes devoured the distance between them and struck.
Already the pain of sharpened ethers flicked through his magic defenses, dampened but by no means elimiinated. He felt the warm slick of blood 'neath the emerald leather.
Again and again he struck the eldritch possession, seeking the vein of heartwood that contained the vitality of the beast. Again and again he hacked, until he at last saw the ruddy-black that indicated he'd reached that vulnerable layer, to which he delivered a crushing blow.
The reaper shuddered, dagger-twig limbs stiffening outwards, then the thing slumped in on itself in a manner attesting its unnatural nature.
Panting, breath hot with battle, Golden-eyes fell to his knee. The urge of his mind to slip into shock still pulled at him...he continued to repress it.
Eventually, it became time to check for serious wounds whose existance could very well be belied by battle-numbness.
Achingly, he peeled out of his armor and searched out the sources of the blood that slicked him, testing the movement of his limbs.
He breathed a sigh of relief--the wounds were not mortal. Nor did he find fractures, which could otherwise heal unnaturally in the wash of spiritual mending.
There, in that glade that had been poisoned, he allowed his mind to slip into the waters of the spirit-world, feeling ethereal mysts sail through his soul...eventually he came to the place of healing, akin to the shrine locations in the physical world...his spirit halted, the meditation deepening. Murmuring the mantra of affinity he began to absorb the energy...
Unseen by his closed eyes...the remains of the reaper began to drain of colour...
Wisps of knowledge flitted through his mind... he seperated the elements of the reaper's spirit, redirecting the blackness away from himself, while absorbing the life-soul of the yew tree that had become possessed, allowing it to -fill- him...his chest expanded to capacity...full of pure -life-...freed...
An indeterminate amount of time later, he opened his eyes and exhaled, healed. Donning his battle-scarred armor once again, he fell into a quiet contemplation of the appearance of this new, dark society who purportedly were using the blackness of spirituality and being currupted by it...
"Death wizards," people called them, in fearful whispers. The mages of Moonglow had used the term, "Necromancer," but they revealed nothing else about the discipline, nor the source of its sudden genesis and spread.
Golden-eyes inspected his weapon, noting it would need some repairs. He altered his path southward through the valley, towards Britain, the sun aglow upon a fiery horizon...
-Goldenblack
Recognition surged into movement as Golden-eyes devoured the distance between them and struck.
Already the pain of sharpened ethers flicked through his magic defenses, dampened but by no means elimiinated. He felt the warm slick of blood 'neath the emerald leather.
Again and again he struck the eldritch possession, seeking the vein of heartwood that contained the vitality of the beast. Again and again he hacked, until he at last saw the ruddy-black that indicated he'd reached that vulnerable layer, to which he delivered a crushing blow.
The reaper shuddered, dagger-twig limbs stiffening outwards, then the thing slumped in on itself in a manner attesting its unnatural nature.
Panting, breath hot with battle, Golden-eyes fell to his knee. The urge of his mind to slip into shock still pulled at him...he continued to repress it.
Eventually, it became time to check for serious wounds whose existance could very well be belied by battle-numbness.
Achingly, he peeled out of his armor and searched out the sources of the blood that slicked him, testing the movement of his limbs.
He breathed a sigh of relief--the wounds were not mortal. Nor did he find fractures, which could otherwise heal unnaturally in the wash of spiritual mending.
There, in that glade that had been poisoned, he allowed his mind to slip into the waters of the spirit-world, feeling ethereal mysts sail through his soul...eventually he came to the place of healing, akin to the shrine locations in the physical world...his spirit halted, the meditation deepening. Murmuring the mantra of affinity he began to absorb the energy...
Unseen by his closed eyes...the remains of the reaper began to drain of colour...
Wisps of knowledge flitted through his mind... he seperated the elements of the reaper's spirit, redirecting the blackness away from himself, while absorbing the life-soul of the yew tree that had become possessed, allowing it to -fill- him...his chest expanded to capacity...full of pure -life-...freed...
An indeterminate amount of time later, he opened his eyes and exhaled, healed. Donning his battle-scarred armor once again, he fell into a quiet contemplation of the appearance of this new, dark society who purportedly were using the blackness of spirituality and being currupted by it...
"Death wizards," people called them, in fearful whispers. The mages of Moonglow had used the term, "Necromancer," but they revealed nothing else about the discipline, nor the source of its sudden genesis and spread.
Golden-eyes inspected his weapon, noting it would need some repairs. He altered his path southward through the valley, towards Britain, the sun aglow upon a fiery horizon...
-Goldenblack