02-21-2021, 07:48 PM
"Came to kill? Don't make me laugh. We were made to kill."
The morph from before, the talker, stepped out of the shadows at the top of the staircase. His cloak had concealed much of his outfit before, but now Tiras could see it: bits of cobbled armor over the robes of a sage and the cloak of a druid. In his hands, like the morph Raye had roasted, was another gnarled staff.
"Can't kill if you can't speak, mage," Tiras heard Renault whisper as he took out an immaculate staff with a darkened finish and a fine red gemstone. A purple pyramid of mystical energy was just barely visible over him, then an aura of colorless grey surrounded the morph overlooking them, and when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. The knight took this as the time to act. The morphs between them and him were dwindling, but the remaining morphs were also more durable than their lesser brethren. There were two that used natural magic, and two that used the light. Tiras felt Persephone's presence, and continued forward at a steady pace, eyeing the morphs that were left and knowing the light users would be drawn to him.
He heard a faint ringing, and elected to dodge out of the way he had been travelling, just for coalescing rings of light to strike the air he would have walked through. He saw one of the mock-bishops looking at him and chanting again, but before he could commit to charging him, he felt Persephone's alarm, and was suddenly struck from above by a blast of light, nearly flattening him, again.
Everything hurts..., Tiras groaned to himself, slowly pushing himself off the floor. He called up Persephone again, and felt her weave her shroud over his sword. He ran toward the chanting bishops, knowing he didn't have long before their light once again blasted him. He struck, a strong blow to the arm of one of them, knocking down the book and severing the limb. The darkness surrounding his sword did little to the man, but that did not matter, his arm was still off. The morph retaliated and struck him in the face with his staff, catching Tiras off guard. He righted himself, and cut for the throat.
Just as the morph was dissolving, Tiras felt another surge of light hit him in the back, though it was followed by a sphere of blue energy healing him.
"Don't give up, Sir Tiras," he heard Bishop Renault shout.
The morph from before, the talker, stepped out of the shadows at the top of the staircase. His cloak had concealed much of his outfit before, but now Tiras could see it: bits of cobbled armor over the robes of a sage and the cloak of a druid. In his hands, like the morph Raye had roasted, was another gnarled staff.
"Can't kill if you can't speak, mage," Tiras heard Renault whisper as he took out an immaculate staff with a darkened finish and a fine red gemstone. A purple pyramid of mystical energy was just barely visible over him, then an aura of colorless grey surrounded the morph overlooking them, and when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. The knight took this as the time to act. The morphs between them and him were dwindling, but the remaining morphs were also more durable than their lesser brethren. There were two that used natural magic, and two that used the light. Tiras felt Persephone's presence, and continued forward at a steady pace, eyeing the morphs that were left and knowing the light users would be drawn to him.
He heard a faint ringing, and elected to dodge out of the way he had been travelling, just for coalescing rings of light to strike the air he would have walked through. He saw one of the mock-bishops looking at him and chanting again, but before he could commit to charging him, he felt Persephone's alarm, and was suddenly struck from above by a blast of light, nearly flattening him, again.
Everything hurts..., Tiras groaned to himself, slowly pushing himself off the floor. He called up Persephone again, and felt her weave her shroud over his sword. He ran toward the chanting bishops, knowing he didn't have long before their light once again blasted him. He struck, a strong blow to the arm of one of them, knocking down the book and severing the limb. The darkness surrounding his sword did little to the man, but that did not matter, his arm was still off. The morph retaliated and struck him in the face with his staff, catching Tiras off guard. He righted himself, and cut for the throat.
Just as the morph was dissolving, Tiras felt another surge of light hit him in the back, though it was followed by a sphere of blue energy healing him.
"Don't give up, Sir Tiras," he heard Bishop Renault shout.
![[Image: 20c7YiV.png]](http://i.imgur.com/20c7YiV.png)
Thank you Destin, for the awesome mug of Ambrose.