The light washed over the swordsman before it reached the orc and then changed into what looked to be the makings of a giant rainbow. When he felt its presence, he stopped and stepped to the side, the tip of his sword falling when he saw what exactly he was staring at. They were beautiful and terrifying as they loomed over the top of him. Oscar also noticed that the one that had hit him was sitting atop of his steed. Something would have to be done about that at a later date.
For now, this band had a direction and a place to be. And, then the gods were gone, leaving silence in their wake. It was not long lived as darkness poured from the center of the point and the necromancer they spoke of stood in their place. He cast words of despair on the hope the gods instilled before destroying the Point. The rocks were shattered by the force and danced in the air a moment before rushing forward at Oscar. In the instant before impact, he flung himself to protect Rupert.
A dragon? Where the hell did a dragon come from? It descended from the cloud cover, drawn in by something brilliant, dangerous, and magical. And then it was dead, skinned and plagued with a hastened rot. Its corpse was gone before Oscar even registered it was there to begin with. But its imprint in the earth was not lost. The scar in the ground remained.
Shard after shard scattered after stabbing at his skin and leather armor. Much like arrows, they were lodged into the chain links and did not pierce. The backward gust of power pressed Oscar against Rupert, who landed on his side with a protest. The rider was surely thrown from his back and his senses would start returning to him. Oscar found the hilt of his sword and dragged it and him to a standing position. He was in time to see an axe soar through the fading form of the necromancer and land in the clearing made by the shockwave.
The silence that surrounded him was eerie, unnatural. There were no noises of nature, just the breathing of the orc, him, Rupert, the others. Oscar turned to see if the Alunei was alright. He also took ahold of Rupert and helped the horse find his hooves as best Oscar could. Rupert whinnied and neighed, glaring at Oscar. “I know buddy. I know.” He hadn’t forgotten what he was in the midst of doing, but the orc was attacking the right things for now.
Oscar approached the rubble, the wisps of darkness still clinging to his armor, evaporating to the air as he strode to what was once the center of the Point of Origin. He sheathed his sword as he knelt, his right hand pressing into Shankee’s neck to find a pulse, the other finding the handle of the orc’s axe. It was heavy. He flipped it, catching it closer to the head, offering the handle to the orc. Without looking, he spoke quietly, “This is yours, I believe.” There was a pulse. Oscar stood, knowing to let the Farrg come to consciousness on his own and took the necessary steps to come before the orc, the axe still held in his hand. “Keep trying to kill the right things and we will be fine.”
The destination became obvious to Sariloth moments before she discovered it. The essence of magic flooded her senses and she immediately dropped from the sky, wings snapped tight to her form and tail straight behind her. Every scale on her body resonated with the power emanating from the land beneath her. Such a trap had never been laid so perfectly. The dragon’s dive halted, but her form continued. The pain seared through her and she collapsed from a single blow.
Her scales were eaten from her form, organs and blood gobbled up by some mysterious force. Her bones were left, threatening and ominous, describing what would come to any that opposed the necromancer. When he left, her corpse was taken with him.