Sickle-cell — Roleplayer Guild

Light was fading fast, even beyond the clouds, as day turned to night. The tide of the battle was slowly turning in the Warden’s favour once again, despite the emergence of shrieks in their camp. Every allied soldier, with the exception of the archers, were almost knee-deep in blighted blood. Despair still flitted about the sky, raining death down on both sides of the battle. With the last of the shrieks finished off, the collective allied force began pushing the darkspawn force back into the Deep.

The Warden-Commander dashed among their foul ranks, supporting the frontline. Ice cold, a spear of frozen water shattered against her shield. Arrows and spells of every description, while less than before, still smited at the darkness. Oghren proceeded to glump through the mud, laughing, roaring and hiccuping while cleaving foes left and right.

Which was all well and good, until a single Hurlock strode forth out of mouth of The Verge. Carrying a crooked black wooden staff, ragged robes hung around the thing. It stopped, scanning over the battlefield. An arrow sailed towards it, which was deflected by the presence of a dark silvery shield springing into being just as the projectile struck. Raising the staff towards the clashing forces, what happened next chilled the Wardens to the marrow. 

“Laipatu kan siasivid!” Aptly spoken words split the very air, hurled forth from the emissary. That, alone, was worrying enough, but it was accompanied by a bolt of green putrid energy. To the naked eye, it looked like a lightning bolt. However, as it pierced the heart of the first Warden it hit, the man aged within the blink of an eye, and simply turned to dust. It sought out the heart of a second warrior, narrowly missing Gideon, and gave a repeat performance. It cycled through this, arcing from warrior to warrior 8 times, before slamming into the demon-possessed Ogre. The lights in it’s eyes died, as the bolt appeared once more from it’s back, now infused with the life-force of a demon. Seeking out the Warden Mage who summoned the Desire demon, he quickly threw up a strong defensive spell. As the bolt collided into the shield, there was a bright flash of brilliant-white energy, before the now-ash mage floated away in the breeze. The victims of the spell stood in various states of decomposition, as their bodies gave way to the entropic spell. Smiling grimly, proud of his handiwork, the emissary began barking orders to the scattered darkspawn. They began to form a cohesive unit, and pushed forth with renewed enthusiasm, and a mage at their backs.

A sickening laugh filled the air. With that, a gout of fire flew into the allied ranks. It slagged the armour of a nearby soldier, sending molten iron onto her flesh. Rolling in the mud, she gave a horrific garbled cry of agony. Ichor from the fallen ‘spawn began to travel in the direction of the Hurlock, swirling around his feet. Some ran under it, in an elaborate pattern, before forming a magic circle directly below the mage. At the same time, fury ablaze, the charging darkspawn crashed into the front line as though a writhing wave of bodies. Intelligent tactics with a raw hunger to kill made for a formidable combination. Celica rose, opening her mouth to shout an order to her troops, as a lance of black ichor tore through her armour. Red and black liquid mixed, the lance pierced the lower right section of her chestplate, just below the Griffin symbol. Wordlessly, the Warden-Commander collapsed onto the ground. A coarse voice rose above the din of battle.

“The Host sends their regards, Wardens.” The Emissary grinned. “Now die like good little dogs.“
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