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TlalocDiana frowned and bit her lip her. Never thought the vexation would continued. Abandoned to her fate by Lightbringer and losing her best summon in a contest against the cultists in what she thought it was her speciality. She felt weak and useless, her limbs and temper only staying put due to sheer pride and refusal to stand down. She stood in place, despite Michael saying so.
"THey will be used as spell components. We all be if we don't stop them here and now. Or turn them into other creatures as we speak. We could run and save our lives, true... but people have fought here valiantly, and now they're attacked at their weakest. Even for someone like me, some lines shan't be crossed." Diana gritted her teeth. So what if he had Ulf. "Open a escape route if you must, but I will stay by these people and win time." She paused.
"Initially people did not have gifts, Michael. We relied on these kinds of arts to keep the Adversary at bay." Diana said, as she cut her hand with an scalpel. A sacrifice of blood was a very minimum.Allfather, Lord of Thunder, King of the Skies, if you exist, any of you, I could use some help. She thought to herself as she spotted one of the trauma response machines, the defibrillator. The closest thing to a miracle made of lightning to revive people. Also a device with a lot of energy. Without thinking twice, she energized the pads, and pressed the bloody hand against them.
It hurt, a lot, and even the searing of charring and flesh could be felt, as Diana's barely functional body struggled against the electrical spasms the machine was giving. She was bumped backwards, a jolt finally ending. In her hand a coalesced lightning bolt. The spell had been a success. A sword of lightning. Probably not the most powerful of ritual magics, but anything would work now.
"I am the sword in the darkness.!" She recited an ancient pledge.
"I am the watcher on the walls.!" A tentative swing of the humble spell, that seemed to be about to fizz out, as if embers in a storm.
"I am the fire that burns against the cold! the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men.!"
She began to walk, sword at the ready, her frazzled hair waving alongside, with little more than her underwear and the tatters she was in.
"And you shall not find me wanting, Thrall of Demons" She added in a hiss, as she began to swing her blade at the nearest undead.
