Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lichtenhart" data-source="post: 1898213" data-attributes="member: 761">The world seems to slow down and fall silent as the two fighters face each other. The knight easily deflects the elf's first blow, but he didn't take into account the monk's speed. The other end of the stick seems to sink in the blackness that should be the knight's shoulder, drawing a thick, black liquid from an unseen wound. Immediately the creature shrieks in pain and the wing fall back on its body, taking once again the shape of the armor. The fiery orbs look at you with something older than anger, as he swipes Laerad and goes for your heart. As the black sword plunges in your chest you feel all its burning coldness (-9 hp). But you are not ready to die. You step back before the blade can claim your life, and in a blur of motion you strike below the knight's overextended arm, and at his neck as he winces. He feebly tries to stab your leg, but this leaves his back undefended from your final attack. Laerad strikes from above, and as it touches the black armor you can hear a sound as of glass shattering.The black armor crumbles in dust at your feet, as something black is swept away by a swift wind. All around you suddenly notice that many other fighters coming from every land of the known war, have similarly ended their battle. The rain of black arrows stops, as the first cheers for victory beging to resound.You hear a voice, clearly, though you couldn't say where it comes from.Remember. Remember that you can change the world and its fate. Never lose your faith in this. Tell your companions too. Remember.Everything around you begins to fade, to become less real, as if it was just painting on a wall. The last thing you can feel is the little girl jumping in your arms, hugging you tightly as she whispers in elven."Oh, daddy, I was so scared."For a moment you think you'll keep this sensation, to feel her in your arms, forever in your heart like a precious treasure. But as the scene fades into the picture, it fades from your mind as well, until you are left in front of the field of barley you just painted, the salty wind ruffling your hair, wondering why you stopped.</blockquote>

Verification