The Vale

The Town,
Currently

The large man sat alone in the once lively and raucous Hall. He had repositioned one of the benches that ran along the central table to sit closer near the narrow windows of the Hall, the better to watch the shadowy beasts outside. The rest of the benches and tables had been repurposed to serve as barricades, set up as obstacles he hoped would slow down and funnel the dark creatures should they succeed at breaching the doors.

Across his lap sat his trusted Battleaxe, Hela. The old girl was tarnished and scarred from years of battle, but he kept her blade as sharp as the day she was forged. Beside him he kept a lantern, the small light flickering, sending shadows dancing across the walls. His hope was that, should any of the monsters outside enter the Hall, the little bit of light he had would make fighting them easier.

He could not see the fiends outside. It was much too dark for that. But he knew they were out there, crawling, slithering into positions. He didn’t know how many, and he was certain he would die this night, but the fear of death did not bother him. What bothered him was the anger and frustration. Knowing that even if he killed a handful of the shadows now, it would not put a dent in their forces. That they’d still continue to rampage across the land, turning this once perfect paradise into a broken world.

As he sat, looking out the window, a dim light grew in the distance. The sun was beginning to rise. The shadows had not been able to enter this mighty Hall during the night. That only meant they’d try harder to breach his defenses today. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and said a little prayer to any god who’d listen. “Whoever watches over me from above,” he whispered under his breath, even though he was the only occupant of the room, “grant me strength, guide my axe, and enable me to take at least a dozen of the bastards with me.”

When he opened his eyes and looked out the window again, he noticed something new. Strangers, approaching from down the street. But with them was the little gnome wizard, Birbin. They were armed, but looked out of place. Were they here to battle the shadows? To help him liberate his town? He adjusted his helmet, and cinched down his armor straps. Gripping Hela tightly with both hands he got to his feet.

If there was any opportunity to turn the tide in this town, this was it. Valmjr stomped to the front door of the Hall, turned his head from shoulder-to-shoulder to crack his neck, and then kicked open the door.

“Champions!” he yelled, thrusting Hela in the air, above his head to get their attention, “to me!”

And then no sooner had the man thrown open the doors, startling the enemies before him a bolt caught one with deadly accuracy, followed by a brilliant swathe of light that reduced several of the dark beings to nothing. Three of the beasts defeated, the rest stood around in apparent shock. It was now revealed, in the dawn and fading light of the magical strike, that the most distinct of the enemies, in form and appearance, on the north most steps was draped in long, loose robes and sat upon its hip a pitch colored blade. A mage, or the shadow of one, looked to Valmjr, then to the marksman Theodore; its wordless lips mouthed and suddenly the enemy seemed to regain their recollection.

The time to act was short.


@Cu Chulainn, @Gordian Nought, @Hekazu, @JBRam2002, @Rig

Wick picked her climbing pace up vehemently to keep in par with that of Theodore and Katia. There had been surprisingly no difficulties about the hiked journey. She had witnessed this routine many times before, and, now aided with magic, the stealthy ascent appeared effortless, in the comparative lieu of walking. Her eventual stance dappled into the sun and shade on the overcast rooftops, stepping between the parted boughs of her Beloved and the monster slayer. Under their impatient vantage, to the right of them, the ground heralded the surprise of shadows as the misty atmosphere was riddled with remnants and slivers of wood and door. The air seemed to kiss one's skin as a laudatory cry reared from an axe bearing knight not yet consumed by the darkness, emerging from the Hall.

“Champions!” he yelled, thrusting Hela in the air, above his head to get their attention, “to me!”

The warlock would be the second of the wardens of light to strike. From somewhere deeper in the heart of the pandemonium, came the enemies’ drones and moans, in consequence of the ranger’s initial attack. The façade of victory was a bit early, as a mage in a smoky mantle, below, commanded his inky flock, with libretto of damnation and a scythe of coal, to confront the company encircling their flanks. Presumably, the reincarnated cleric hoped and depended on fate, recognizing that not all lands would be lost to such obscurity, as the familiar bright sphere materialized again into her hand. Leaning on her staff as a fulcrum, the arm, bearing the luminosity, flung in a wide arc towards the fiends.

“Under this new dawn, they will kneel and beg us for the sun’s perfection.”



@Hekazu@JBRam2002@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Cu Chulainn@Rig

---

At the call for battle, Katia wasted no time following after the burst of light and nearly overtaking it in her speed. As it crashed down, she brought her quarterstaff to land on one of the foes, or so she hoped. The blinding light from Wick's spell made it hard for her to see if the loud thwack was from hitting the enemy or the ground. Her claws whipped out to follow the strike from the quarterstaff, finding purchase in the shadowy flesh as she kicked off from her foe, landing a few feet away from it.

Keeping her momentum, Katia somersaulted away from the shadow, darting around the wall that surrounded the area to remain hopefully safe from any incoming shadows. "So, there's a lot of them!" she called back to her allies. "Let's help that guy out!"


@Hekazu - Theodore (Next!)
@The Harbinger of Ferocity - DM

Theodore allowed himself a slight smirk as the smaller shadows dissipated after being struck by the brilliant flash. But it was far too early to celebrate now, that it was. The appearance as a new ally had served as his mark, and now he chose to trust in their ability to handle the axe wielding shadow. The apparent mage posed an immediate threat to him and his group, there would be time for introductions later. He cranked the reloading mechanism of his crossbow and prepared to set down a bolt as he judged the nature of the new kind of foe.

Granted there was nothing too surprising, he raised his now loaded weapon into position and pulled the trigger. The shot was iffy, as if something was interfering with it, but it would most likely connect. The reaction of the shadow revealed nothing, but that was only to be expected. All that remained right now was to continue shooting until he ran out of either the bolts or hostile targets.


@The Harbinger of Ferocity - I believe you are next?

The Vale

The Town,
Currently

The gnome's eyes grew huge in wondrous surprise, almost as though they would eclipse the rest of him at this rate.

Valmjr... lived? His mouth sat slightly agape for a moment before the paladin and her wizardly escort bolted past him. Blinking and shaking his head from side to side some to throw off his own surprise, he quickly followed - well, as far as it seemed reasonable down the worn dirt path that was. Holding none too far from below where the slayer and scholar perched, his hands began to work the little magic he understood; a pink and almost at times lavender aura swelled around them with a light thrum. Concentrating as best he could on his spell, Birbin could hold back his excitement at seeing another friend no longer.

"Don't worry, Valmjr! Birbin's friends can do this!" He shouted, hands still working arcane gestures no higher than his shoulders.

Thea on the meanwhile, still at a near charge, had drawn her greatsword and was well prepared to cut down the offending mage; the being whose black, lightless robes seeped with infinite darkness, almost as though they were shifting atop it. Whatever it was, it was no threat to be ignore if it did know magic as it seemed and the redeemed crusader of the Kingdom of Light was certain she would be the best to put such a threat to rest. Haemar knew this just as well, allowing his companion to handle that danger. In the meanwhile, sword slipping deftly from its scabbard as he slowed, he chose with lightning alacrity a spell to be cast the next moment following.

The enemy at bay for the moment, the heroes knew well their advantage was not going to see them through forever; swords were being drawn, shields being raised, dark enchantments and spells beginning to eek into the air. Soon again the town would erupt into chaos and conflict, this time on the footsteps of the Hall, a place dedicated to it as though it were some sort of strange shrine or temple to heroic violence.


@Cu Chulainn, @Gordian Nought, @Hekazu, @JBRam2002, @Rig

Cesar Lorenzo Tidesong Bolivar
The Vale, At The Hall.

Cesar let out a breath as his allies all made their attack on the shadows. He drew his sword, eagerly, as the doors were thrown opened suddenly, revealing... another potential ally? Well, Cesar wouldn't know for certain, but as long as they aren't living darkness,- or giant birds,- then they're right and proper allies in Cesar's book.

It's nice to have another friend after seeing your world end right in front of you.

Cesar proceeded forward, sword in his hand, and a fierce look in his face. While he's still up and ready for another fight, the wounds from the last one seem to be holding the bard back a few notches. Noticing his faltering posture, Cesar took a deep breath as he focused his magical energy in his hand, whispering words of encouragement to himself as a brilliant light manifested in his hand. He then clenches his fist, "crushing" the magic in his hand like some sort of trinket, causing the light to briefly dance around him. Feeling better spiritually, Cesar looked back up to the shadows, teeth bared.

"Alright, then, you gillepollas! I hope you all will put up a better fight!"

The Vale

The Town,
Currently

Sword forward, the wizard pressed on and to cut off the enemy at their flank; he, just as the paladin, had enough of their attackers swarming and surrounding them. Lightning charged across the keen edge and then like a painter he stroked the sword against the canvas of his enemy and to spectacular effect. A dull burst of energy filled the air and the skittering light bounced from the steel and on to the armored foe with a crack - pleased with himself, the elf nodded and almost gave a gentleman's bow before putting the weapon back to the ready. The shadow, in return, incapable of so much as lifting its shield from the leap of lightning, stood almost dazed and confused... or as much as these dark beings could. Either way, the abjurer had more than succeeded and assured their enemy was routed from regrouping.

Thea, charging up the steps, hand gesturing with a symbol of the Kingdom of Light, uttered some word none could quite truly understand; some archaic, mystic tongue she had adopted. Immediately, as she swung her own sword, both hands set to its grip, the weapon shed a great light that quickly burned away into ripples of invisible, formless energy.

She connected, her whole body shifting in its armor as she turned to follow through, striking down the sorcerous foe... only to have it erupt into darkness. A blinding black settling all around her, she quickly wiped her face free of the magical mist and turned to face her next opponent. Yet, for a disturbing moment, it was almost as though the wild magical energy of the Kingdom of Darkness had stricken her with despair.


@Cu Chulainn, @Gordian Nought, @Hekazu, @JBRam2002, @Rig

---

The fight was really starting to pick up now. The shadows did not seem to chase Katia, which was all well and good to her, but her allies would be in need of her assistance. No point in remaining behind the wall forever. She peeked around the corner, charging the radiant energy between her palms, and lined up a shot. The burst of light shot forth from her palms, striking the shade in its head and exploding in a burst of light that was likely more showy than effective. "Gotcha!" Katia called out with a squeal of delight.

She knew she could follow up with a flurry of light on her foes, but she was already feeling the need for a rest to recharge her spirit. Perhaps with the next shot, she would be able to send all of the rest of the shadows back to the depths of whatever demon-infested pit they crawled from, but for now, her allies would have to take care of things and hopefully keep them from attacking her.


@Hekazu - Theodore (Next!)
@The Harbinger of Ferocity - DM

The shadowy caster fell, whether it was partly thanks to him or not Theodore did not know. Not that it would have mattered. One's role in the fight was all one had to know and their actions should always be performed to the fullest. Hit or miss, each soldier should give their duty their all. That was how the templar had taught and how Theodore had learnt to live and fight. According to his role. And his role was to pelt the enemy with bolts until it ceased being a threat or he ran out of ammunition.

He reloaded his weapon and took aim once more, his target being the big axe wielding creature. He briefly remembered the success he had had with the last one of its kind while trying to judge a weak spot for it. Somehow he just knew where to shoot for the attack to truly hurt, yet as he released the bolt a horrible doubt crept into his mind. Just how had he been so sure? Was it all a trick by the shadows to have him waste his ammunition? Nonetheless, the bolt had been let loose, so all he could do now was to reload while Katia celebrated her more apparent success below the path his shot would have had to take.

@The Harbinger of Ferocity - Birbin is up

The Vale

The Town,
Currently

The feline monk's hit scored, having set a bolt of golden light directly into her foe before it could so much as react, the battle's tides were already well in the process of being turned; they had clawed another inch back from the formless Kingdom of Darkness. This process, repeated enough so that they had found an unexpected ally, was a sound well of hope - deeper and fuller than any they really should have experienced. Their home, or what was left of it, had disappeared into the void no more than a day ago, but here in this world they felt a surge of exhilaration their spirits hadn't ever before; as though their efforts were actually seeing them through.

But so too was doubt strong here, venomously potent at that.

That subtle, underlying distraction is what set the slayer's bolt off its course just ever so slightly. It took a moment of reflection to recognize it had not landed, the cloud of unusual deceit and actual chaos of battle mingling into one complicated mess that only spiraled further out. Yet, by then, the violent gnome hurried to the front, audacious robes shifting as he carried himself as fast as his feet could speed in flight. Seemingly oblivious to the weighty burden the shadows had, one just under the surface, he drew back a hand and threw forth a bizarre lavender beam which then struck past Thea and to the shadowy soldier.

His arcane language for the spell certainly was not familiar either, even not to the ears of the trained Wick.


@Cu Chulainn, @Gordian Nought, @Hekazu, @JBRam2002, @Rig

Cesar Lorenzo Tidesong Bolivar
The Vale, At The Hall.

Cesar continued forward eagerly, watching his frienss, both deep in enemy lands and back providing ranged suppoet, all laying the hurt on his enemiee. It almost made the rather slow Bard jealous. He felt the need to try and contribue somehow... He could always fire another bolt from his crossbow, but Cesar felt like that would not have enough flair. And throwing your sword can only go a long way, as well...

So instead, the Bard cleared his throat as he proceeded, looking the Night Fury in the... Eyes? Ocular orifices? Orbs?

"You know, I can smell you from here, and it isn't much of a pleasant aroma from where I'm standing!"

Keep trying, Cesar.

The Vale

The Town,
Currently

"You know, I can smell you from here, and it isn't much of a pleasant aroma from where I'm standing!"

The burly shadow's axe held high, the wielder stepping into to meet the mysterious warrior in the doorway, Cesar's quick thinking and cutting magical words caused the attacker to pull his attack and whip about to look at the sword-bearing bard. Furious, it looked over its dark, unarmored shoulders - like the empty void - back to the target of its attack, then again to Cesar. So enraged was it, without even a word or expression on its featureless face, that it only could react by sudden jerky movements and violent shuddering. It surely was howling like a madman, but that cry of wrath was bottled up within it; it had missed with an attack that might have outright killed a lesser man. Valmjr, who was surely capable of weathering it, was only better graced now by never being struck in the first place.

Miraculously, all at the same time as this came to pass, the armored figures set about their assault on the heroes who divided them; each lashed out with a sword at the smiting paladin of Thea, the elegant Katia or the noble Haemar... but to no avail. Without their partners in battle, they seemed far, far more feeble than they had before. In fact, the Heroes of the Kingdom of Light had done so much to destroy their attempted ambushed on the Hall that they might well have won the battle, even now. But fate was fickle, one victory here was not success throughout.

They might have gained an ally, but how many more enemies were to come?


@Cu Chulainn, @Gordian Nought, @Hekazu, @JBRam2002, @Rig

With sarcastic mockery, the morning filled with unsung felicitations, considered proper with the supremacy over the smoky bandits. The aloft cleric maintained her astute vantage, doctoring a distance to which she and the monster slayer enjoyed. Ascertaining another wisp of dusk, the reborn sage reveled in the gemmed gavel, its Daedalaen root in the form of a staff to which she had leaned and cherished as an elf, now harnessed the Archfey’s visceral and mystical brawn. The wood bolstered her worst moods and most sinister emotions.

Like the gifted scythe, it made her feel powerful, but transparent, in her angst and ferocity.

Finding fault in this prejudice and predisposition to this potential perversion, Wick understood the repercussions of this other life, a second chance to right wrongs and rewrite her millennium of apathy and indifference, into a viciousness and savagery against the pranks of the devilish darkness. This quiet, absorbed querulousness often culminated in a burst of rage whenever shadows stood afoot, impregnating and spurning her soul to an inevitable explosion.

However, as the blast departed from the warlock’s bedazzled walking stick, she admittedly always arrived to the same conclusion with each attempted strike.

“Triumph compels further than virtue alone to purge this world of evil.”



@Hekazu@JBRam2002@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Cu Chulainn@Rig

As soon as the warrior burst forth from the Hall, holding his battleaxe Hela high, the strangers launched their attack. Bolts and spells flew at the shadowy fiends, drawing their attention off of the now-exposed Valmjr. That was just right for him. He deftly dodged an attack by the closest shadow monster, thanks in no part to one of the humans shouting an obscene remark at it. He squinted his eyes and bellowed out with anger and hate, gripping Hela tightly and bringing her head down towards its.

His blood pumping through his temples, all he could hear was the rapid thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat. His vision closed in, blocking out all other distractions, focusing on his target. His ax flew through the air, his hands merely acting as its guides. He would see all of these fiends dead, starting with the one right outside the door.

The Vale

The Town,
Currently

In a burst of eldritch energy evoked by the returned scholar, the axe hefting beast came again to draw up its weapon at the man before it. So frenzied and enraged, even in its disturbing silence, it noticed not the blow Valmjr delivered to it... not initially at least. It soon fell before him, burning away in dark, wisping flames that left not a trace of its burly form. Then at last Wick's lingering magic dispersed, the same which had flung wide the opening their new ally needed. Another foe defeated swiftly by their coordinated attack.

But Haemar was not faring nearly as well as some of his cohorts for his sword met his enemy's, skittering lightning leaping off it and crashing to the ground with a clap alongside a metallic clink. Recovering his pose, his eyes narrowed slightly, darting off to their resident swordsman then back to the infinitely dark form of the shield bearing foe; carefully observing he awaited his next opening, hoping that this time he would fare far better in striking down the darkness that had swallowed up his life and threatened here, wherever here quite was, to do the same.

To the none too distance north, the paladin skirmished with her enemy, greatsword clattering off its shield as it shrugged her heavy blow aside with an unsettling silence. Every attack against the shadows, those that missed or found purchased felt empty, void, lacking and hollow; the sensation of striking darkness if it had taken form. How truly fitting it was that this black legion they faced was sent on behalf the Kingdom of Darkness.


@Cu Chulainn, @Gordian Nought, @Hekazu, @JBRam2002, @Rig

---

As one of the shadows charged at Katia, she was ready. She waited patiently for the enemy to commit to its attack and ducked under the blow, swinging her quarterstaff about with both hands to knock it off balance for a split second. Before it could react, she was already gone, scampering away to find her next target without looking to see what happened to the first.

Her allies had done an excellent job at clearing out the more dangerous foes, but Haemar looked to be struggling. "Hold on, I'm coming!" Katia called out as she darted behind the enemy, raking at it with her claws. She could feel the shadow between her fingers with the blow, but couldn't tell if she got any true purchase with the strike. Not wanting to miss twice in a row, Katia carefully aimed her final blow at the nape of the enemies neck, definitely landing a hit this time, but her strike did not feel nearly as powerful as the first. "We've almost got them! Just a little more!"


@Hekazu - Theodore (Next!)
@The Harbinger of Ferocity - DM

With the giant axe-wielding shadow dispersing like the weakest of them, only serving to prove that no foe was too big for the Kingdom of Light, the templar began picking his new target post-haste. All that remained were the soldiers built of pure darkness, the footmen of the kingdom that stood for the antithesis of Light. And soon they would not stand either, not if he had an opportunity to say something about it.

There were three potential targets, Katia running from one to another, to leave the shadow she had been fighting behind in order to aid Haemar in his combat against another one of the same kind. With already two of his group taking that one down, it was as good as dead. No need to turn his crossbow on that. Then there was the one that didn't have anyone at it right now, a wild card that could easily disrupt the flow of battle... yet the last option had something that weighed on his decision more than anything else considered: It was threatening Thea.

The decision was made, he and the divine powers alike had their eyes on the target. Without further delay he placed a new bolt on the crossbow and sent it on its way towards the shadow, all signs pointing towards a straight shot into the nondescript black mass that was its body. As per usual, the shadow showed no immediate reaction, but it would only be a matter of time before it would disintegrate under the heroes' assault. Now or later, it would matter little. The Kingdom of Darkness would fall.


@The Harbinger of Ferocity - Birbin's turn

The Vale

The Town,
Currently

As though she were a leaf flitting too and fro on the wind, the pantherine monk slipped from her opponent. So swift was it that she hadn't the time to notice how it fell to nothingness again, removed by the light within her first then the rays of the dawn upon the mountains above. Over her head, a whistling crack struck down another shadowy fiend, letting her slide flawlessly into the company of their wizard's foe; again, strike after strike, Katia eventually broke her disoriented enemy as the marksman from his shared perch could notice. No less with his watchful eyes still on the hunt to root out the seeping evil here, the monster slayer quickly discerned they were again victorious.

No one shadow, barring of course their own shadows, remained. Only the ambiance of the seconds post of battle. All the magic in the air, the swinging and slinging of swords and arrows, clattering of armor and shields... all gone. All eerily quiet again in this town full only of memories.

Their gnome however, did not remain silent for long, for with an outreached set of arms above his head he leapt up in place and waved to gain the newcomer's attention again, "The new friends are good, you see? Birbin brings them to help!"

Looking back the outlandish purple gnome smiled to those on the roof, nodding before looking back to Valmjr at the head of the steps. He was certainly not wrong for under their combined assault, the man's shock and awe and their relentless dedication, they defeated an ambush that might too have claimed another light in the darkness. How fortunate was it, almost divine favor, that they had succeeded in this manner. Rather a "common" occurrence for them yet at any rate still a turn of events greatly in their favor.

In the meantime Haemar smiled to the feline Katia, offering a slight gesture before him in suggestion of her accompanying him, sheathing his sword whilst doing so; Thea was not far behind in easing her weapon either, scanning with vengeful eyes over the entirety of the environment, high and low. She did not put aside the sword so quickly, not with another newcomer to appear before them, but if he was any enemy of the darkness - as he appeared to be then he might be of some use yet in finding this strange "Green Man" and whoever else was wandering these streets.

Climbing the large stone steps, no small feat for Birbin it was noted, he neared the tremendous man and motioned for the heroes of the Kingdom of Light to join him.


@Cu Chulainn, @Gordian Nought, @Hekazu, @JBRam2002, @Rig

It was over. The last of the shadows dissipated as his bolt nailed them to their core, or something along those lines. Theodore was having a poetic streak, but in a way it only made sense. He was all that was left of the most dedicated templar, so if the holy books were to ever be restored... well, that'd be on him, maybe Wick as well. Had to learn the appropriate way with the words for that. Or maybe the angels would write them anew? Time would tell.

He look to the woman standing on his side and nodded. "Think that was that. Another victory for the Light", he said and smiled, though the facial expression was mostly concealed by his scarf. He closed the bolt case for now and raised the mask onto his face before starting to climb down the wall he had taken refuge at the top of. Some of the others remained wary, but the shadows had, thus far, displayed a tendency to always appear simultaneously. Surely if there were more around they would have joined the fight by now? He would be looking for his bolts for the time being, let other do what they do.

To his dismay only one of his bolts was found in usable condition. Others had either snapped or could not be found at all, but luckily enough the one bolt that had made it was the one near Thea. As he picked it up, he made a show of removing his mask and taking a look at Thea as he used it to unlock his bolt case. Sure, it had a finger operated release for times like these... but she had requested to see him more often. What harm was there to oblige for a second? After all, was this not technically still battle? Oh the lengths he would go to justify such a simple move. Maybe he would be better off just skipping such gestures next time.

Having collected the bolts he could, he approached the new acquaintance. He was a warrior for sure, what with the armour and axe in hand, and seemingly a friend of Birbin's, though the templar had already forgotten what their name was. "A friendly face. I had not been expecting to find many more since we found our purple wizard friend dashing through the streets in panic. I am Theodore, one of the templar from a land that no longer is. My friends and I seek to help the Kingdom of Light in these trying times. Who might you be, and what brings you here?" he asked of the battleaxe wielding man.


@Rig

The corpse of a woman slid down the building expeditiously, hugging close to the monster slayer’s hisses into the stillness that plagued once again the town under the couth heaven. She supposed the ranger’s assumption of another ally warranted the attached greeting and introduction, eavesdropping the authentic extended name, devoid of any deceit. Though the mask begged a different quarrel; its dim pale oval beckoned more questions than answers, to which Thea often ignored, in seeking its absent obstruction to the man behind the guise.

The shadows of faint life flickered about the ornate half-plate of the reborn sage, barely contrasting the light-haired head, atop the swiveling neck surveying the Hela wielding friend of Birbin. Even then, one could only barely decipher the horrid, frost-bound sensations when nearing the bewitched librarian, boiling from the at-will necromantic facsimile. It gripped her tighter like a vise as she gleaned the words.

The Kingdom of Light.

The sickly clutch fastening around her chest and waist, a moment of vain exclamations, to the inky bondage without a safe word. Her nimble boots climbed and closed the distance to the newly added warrior. She hung to the left of Theodore, ghastly, silvery, and fishlike. The pitched scales remained a muted and augmented constitution, but toyed with the surrounding air, like an Olympian performing laps, swimming round and round, providing an atmosphere of joyless strength. She realized it was not inconceivable that this vessel could capsize into the deeps of such power. However, such a price may be warranted, and Wick believed this angelic body could bear such a burdensome stigma.

The warlock cleared her throat, prompting a troubled incertitude. The distressed interruption fileted the dual quarries offered to Valmjr, scrutinizing his abandonment of the absent-minded gnome wizard.

“The sun can warm your skin or blister your hide, light your path or blind you. It is a fickle friend, but a far worse enemy, kept in plain sight, checked for silence but never taxed for speech.”