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Message: <blockquote data-quote="mcathro" data-source="post: 3298228" data-attributes="member: 41917">Coming soon from Skortched urf' Studios:<img src="http://www.skortchedurfstudios.com/images/Neo-WitchCover300.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /> The earth shook with every step the basalt golem took, but the petite pagan girl stood her ground, her Atheme clenched tight in her trembling hands. The power was a song within her, and benevolent runes of silver flame danced over the blade, but the 14 year old warrior-girl couldn’t still her racing heart. Her ritual blouse was slick with sweat, sticking to her slender body and her sweaty hands squeaked around the leather wrapped hilt of the ceremonial dagger. She stood her ground. The golem’s shadow loomed over her, and it raised its arms in a hammer blow that the young witch knew could pulverize every bone in her body. The little girl’s eyes darted upwards, towards the howling black pools of anti-light that were the golem’s eyes. She stood her ground.     The pagan girl muttered a quiet prayer to Isis and Brigidit, as the creature brought fists the size of motorcycles down on top of her. She knew if she timed this wrong, she would die in a single agonizing second, and worse.... she’d fail. She stood her ground.     Those mammoth hands swung down, and the golem roared its triumph.         She stood her ground.     She felt the wind of those stone fists as they hurled towards her skull. And suddenly, the NeoWitch wasn’t there any more. She darted in, between the splayed legs of the stone behemoth, diving to safety at the last possible second. Before the howling construct could turn, she leapt upward, her sneakers easily finding purchase as she pulled herself up towards the hulking stone warrior’s shoulder. Hanging on for dear life, she plunged her glowing blade into the golem’s throat. The universe exploded.     She landed hard on her butt, her eyes stunned into uselessness by the magical flash. She blinked to clear her head, still seeing stars and colored dots swimming across her field of vision, and heard the sound of crumbling stone. When she could see again, she staggered to her feet, and saw just what she had hoped she would. The golem was gone, and in its place, a young black kid in a tattered prep school uniform unconscious amid the wreckage.     The little witch smiled, and patted her friend awake, quickly and efficiently checking the middle schooler for any lasting damage from the curse of stone. He blinked himself awake, his eyes going wide with confusion.         “You’ll be okay, praise be. Now, do you know who did this to you?” You were empowered in a sacred circle of pagan friends, called to a higher responsibility and purpose than the others of your faith. You are a modern day witch, the spiritual descendant of ancient shamans, primeval druids and wise-women throughout history, and you are even more. Unlike other members of your pacifistic faith, you are an adept combatant, a devotee of a mystical martial art that gives you incredible speed and agility, ultimately even the ability to spurn gravity itself. In your wise hands, the stereotypical tools of your religion become powerful symbols of healing and justice.      Like the Acolyte, the NeoWitch Guardian draws her power from faith and an inner connection to the divine. The NeoWitch can break enchantments, heal the wounded, and call upon the strength, courage and grace necessary to seek and destroy supernatural threats, as well as defend modern day witches against those who would persecute them.</blockquote>

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