Choice 2. Search for the children?
But as much as Gregor wished to leave, he was a warrior born for battle, one that had spent years regretting the death of little Kira, and the gods be damned if he was going to allow any of these children to die as well. The crashing madness of battle that surrounded him, pounding his eardrums with the sound of thunder and steel as he dashed back up the hill towards the thick tangle of tents, soldiers that had been unable to reach the safety of the hilltop, fighting and dying in screams of lightning that flashed down. The companies of legionaries that still fought, broken into square blocks of steel that were hammered from all sides, when a halo of golden light sprang to life above them.
Each bolt of lightning that rang in Gregor's ears, half blinding him with tears as he scrubbed his cheeks, and cried out, "Lytan! Sara!" His voice drowned out by the steady beat of drums, blaring of horns as troops clad in overlapping steel tried to help the survivors, their winged helms gleaming in the four suns as they met crashing waves of goblins in nothing but their loincloths armed with spear and bucklers, and fighting for dear life. Each company, a well-disciplined force that endured the fireballs, lightning, and blasts of magical energy that drove them backward.
Teeth clenched tight as despair began to fill his chest, he thrust open tent flaps, and called out, "Lytan! Sara!" His voice cracking with thirst, while his body ached to rest, when violet-colored eyes flashed across the back of his mind, "they cannot hear you."
Heart leaping into his throat at the sound of her voice, he roared, "Then help me!" his forehead dripping with sweat as he kicked up a shortsword into his hand, and cleaved through the neck of a goblin that screamed towards him, before dozens more appeared nearby, saw the fallen body of their brethren, and charged towards him.
Her next words to him, urgent as she spoke again, "Swear your soul to me!"
(Refuse.)
The shock of it, causing Gregor to stumble backwards, his eyes widening as he caught a spear thrust in his arm, and was suddenly aware of her, could feel her hunger for him as though it were a bonfire lit up in the night sky. And not for the first time he wondered why she needed him? Why she infected his mind like a disease that would never leave, before he shook his head, and chopped off a bony arm that lunged for his throat, the goblin screaming out in agony as blood gushed into the air. Three of its brothers circling Gregor with upraised spears.
The only thought on Gregor’s mind was that he had grown sick of her games, sick of her wanting to use him, sick of the memories that forced him to wake up breathless and sweating. Sorceress, demon or mage, he wanted her dead, but even the thought of killing her made him groan aloud in pain as though he wanted to harm a part of himself.
Eyes drifting as he fought by instinct alone, he parried aside another spear thrust, and could see a column of minotaurs driving their way towards him, greatswords rending flesh from bone, and winged helms glinting in the suns.
The sweat on Gregor's back cooled by the breeze as he saw more goblins push through the tents.
-3 HP.
(Accept oath.)
Struggling to free himself from the surge of goblins that surrounded him, Gregor knew he was out of options, and finally growled, "fine, I swear!" His blade sweeping out in long arcs to keep the wild-eyed bastards at bay, before he had to swallow back his own surprise, and take a step back. His mind unveiling a hooded and cloaked figure that stood there motionless, with a thousand different versions of himself, standing there beneath the light of the stars, and each one of him weaving a complex pattern of spells. And a part of him knew. Knew what he was. Knew he wasn't human.
-1 HP.
(Summon the Atronoch. Cost 10 Mana.)
Hands moving of their own accord in wide circular arcs, he dodged a thrown spear, and bellowed, "come to me, Atronoch! Lord of the Elements!" And let out a startled gasp of surprise as he felt something connect with him, felt it grow, and heard its voice. "I come." The golden aura that surrounded Gregor, flooding him with heat as a warrior armored head to toe in glistening steel stepped out of a gateway that seemed from another world, carrying a staff made from glass, and a golden shield that sparkled with energy. Its eyes blazing with bright white flames as the broad-shouldered elf bowed its head to him, and looked at Gregor with a face carved from marble, before it swung its shield around to blind the goblins. It's staff, a whirlwind of scorching white-hot flames that hunted them down in scourging streaks of fire even as Gregor thought to himself that he must be truly mad.
Hands shaking with sweat, he tried to move forward, and looked down to see a fleshless arm holding onto him, and hacked it away. The voice as per usual gone again when he needed the most answers, and turned his attention towards the blackened clouds, his lungs filled with the acrid stench of smoke as the warrior-mage returned covered in blood, its cool gaze empty of all emotion. "What now?"
Trembling with a mixture of pleasure and pain at the release of so much magical energy, he studied the battlefield that lay spread out before him in all directions. The legionaries that had managed to hold their ground on the hilltop, whittled down one by one, while orcs milled about behind them in pale-faced terror.
-10 Mana.
(Order it to fight. 5 Mana.)
Finally, he snapped, "Get rid of them," and felt another surge of power flow through him as the warrior-mage bowed its head again, and glided away. Its staff raised before it to release bolts of lightning that sizzled and crackled through the air, and it's form turning into mist as it floated upwards into the sky, when it launched a barrage of death that mowed down hundreds. Littering the field with thousands of smoldering bodies, and creating burning pires of dead that brought the stench of cooking meat.
It wasn't long after that the goblins turned about and fled. The few berserkers that he had seen earlier, tearing each other apart in a blind rage, leaving only the lightning bolts that continued to rain down from the clouds, and suck at the light.
Grizzled hard features a mask of exhaustion, a grey-furred minotaur that had a missing eye, walked over to stand by Gregor's side, his face half-covered in blood as he bowed his head to him. "Thanks be to the Lightbearer."
A thought that at any time would have made Gregor laugh, but as he stared around him at the battlefield, he could feel nothing but fear. He still needed to find Lytan and Sara. (Scroll down and click the Continue option.)
-5 Mana.
+1 Morale.
(Order it to find Lytan and Sara. 2 Mana.)
But that was not what he had come here to do, and so he replied, "find Lytan and Sara."
Its strange eyes swirling into different colors as the elf looked down at him for a moment, before it intoned, "I cannot sense them."
Heart lurching to the side at the thought he was too late, he could feel his skin begin to burn, breath ragged, when he asked, "are they dead?"
But the Atronoch simply shook his head, its face expressionless. "I do not know."
Not really sure what to make of its answer, Gregor examined the remains of the dead goblins, wondering if there was some hidden meaning to it? (Continue with, order it to fight.)
-2 Mana.
+2 Morale.
(Avalanche of fire. Cost 5 Mana.)
Hands moving of their own accord, he dodged a thrown spear meant for his chest, and held out his arms in front of him. The goblins that snarled and came for him, washed away by a wall of fire that coursed out his veins like a rush of heat that scorched everything around him, turning the frost to water, and leaping across the tents to spring a fire that surged and boiled with fury. His every breath a quaking ecstasy of pain as he drew upon the power inside of him, and hunted them down, while his thoughts shot from one way to the next at the thought that he was going mad.
Hands lowered slowly, he felt a touch of...fear perhaps? And examined the wide circle of blackened ash that was filled with mounds that had once been goblins, before he twisted around to study the battlefield. The rugged hilly terrain, thick with dead bodies, black carrion birds that circled the air, and the continuous ring of battle. The legionaries pushed back further up the hill, where they were being whittled down one by one, the terrified faces of orcs behind them.
(Call another Avalanche of fire. 5 Mana.)
Gregor rushing towards them, his body shaking with energy as the two forces battled each other along the slopes, and had to avoid a blood-crazed berserker. Her face masked by blood, and crimson red eyes, seeing nothing as she leaped past him to rip out the throat of a goblin, her skin covered in scars, and expression dark with fury. Before he was face to face with swarms of undead that had lost all resemblance to life, and bands of wild-eyed goblins fought with tooth, nail, and spears.
Eyes never leaving theirs, he snarled at a cut along his spine, felt his eardrums beaten by the sound of their howls, before he waved his arms out. The second wave of fire, a torrent of white-hot heat that transformed the corpses into ash, and sent the goblins reeling away in fear. Their yellow eyes livid with rage as a few tried to reach him through the flames, when finally everything around him was dead.
Heart still pumping with adrenaline as he glanced at his handiwork, he could see the bloodied and battered vestiges of the legionaries staring down at him in disbelief, when one of their number walked towards him.
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A hulking minotaur with the grizzled hard features of a warrior as he moved to stand beside him, blood leaking out from one missing eye. "You have the will and luck of the divine, my friend."
A thought that at any time would have made Gregor laugh, but as he stared around him at the battlefield, he could feel nothing but fear. He still needed to find Lytan and Sara. (Scroll down and click the Continue option.)
-1 HP.
(Rush to their aid.)
Gregor rushing towards them, his body shaking with energy as the two forces battled each other along the slopes, and had to avoid a blood-crazed berserker. Her face masked by blood, and crimson red eyes, seeing nothing as she leaped past him to rip out the throat of a goblin, her skin covered in scars, and expression dark with fury. Before he was face to face with swarms of undead that had lost all resemblance to life, and bands of wild-eyed goblins fought with tooth, nail, and spears.
Eyes never leaving theirs, he snarled at a cut along his spine, felt his eardrums beaten by the sound of their howls, before he dove straight into the chaos. His shortsword, a storm of flashing steel that carved through lines of enemies that swung round to face him. Their slitted eyes full of rage as his skin was soaked red with their blood, and Gregor felt at home, with snarling beasts all around him, death inevitable, and a glorious battle before him. Each swordstroke focused towards slicing his way through them, when the lines of goblins shattered, and fell apart.
Shocked and appalled that he had not gotten to kill more, he stared after them, wondering what had happened, when one of the legionaries that had been gaping at him, walked over towards him.
A hulking minotaur with the grizzled hard features of a warrior, he stood there beside Gregor, blood leaking out from his missing eye, and shook his head. "You have the luck of the divine, my friend."
A thought that at any time would have made Gregor laugh, but as he stared around him at the battlefield, he could feel nothing but fear. He still needed to find Lytan and Sara. (Scroll down and click the Continue option.)
-4 HP.
(Conserve Mana and battle with steel.)
Preferring his own steel to some blasted magic, he moved faster and faster, his blade appearing like smoke, here the one second, and then there the next. But even without a glance around him, Gregor knew he was in trouble.
Coming at him from all sides in waves of stabbing spears, goblins closed in all around him, hide bucklers blocking his attacks, when he felt the sweet kiss of steel enter his spine. His last glimpse of life, before goblins tore him open were yellow glowing eyes, and the image of the woman shaking her head in disappointment.
Death.
(Continue to fight without her.)
Determined to not give in to her, he moved faster and faster, his blade appearing like smoke, here the one second, and then there the next. But even without a glance around him, Gregor knew he was in trouble.
Coming at him from all sides in waves of stabbing spears, goblins closed in all around him, hide bucklers blocking his attacks, when he felt the sweet kiss of steel enter his spine. His last glimpse of life, before goblins tore him open were yellow glowing eyes, and the image of the woman shaking her head in disappointment.
Death.
(Accept.)
The shock of it, causing Gregor to stumble backwards, his eyes widening as he caught a spear thrust in the arm, and was suddenly aware of her, could feel her hunger for him as though it were a bonfire lit up in the night sky. And not for the first time he wondered why she needed him? Why she infected his mind like a disease that would never leave, before he nodded his head, “I swear,” and chopped off a bony arm that lunged for his throat, the goblin screaming out in agony. Three of its brothers circling Gregor with upraised spears as mind unveiled a hooded and cloaked figure that stood there motionless, with a thousand different versions of himself, standing there beneath the light of the stars, and each one of him weaving a complex pattern of spells. And a part of him knew. Knew what he was. Knew he wasn't human.
-1 HP.
(Summon the Atronoch. Cost 10 Mana.)
Hands moving of their own accord in wide circular arcs, he dodged a thrown spear, and bellowed, "come to me, Atronoch! Lord of the Elements!" And let out a startled gasp of surprise as he felt something connect with him, felt it grow, and heard its voice. "I come." The golden aura that surrounded Gregor, flooding him with heat as a warrior armored head to toe in glistening steel stepped out of a gateway that seemed from another world, carrying a staff made from glass, and a golden shield that sparkled with energy. Its eyes blazing with bright white flames as the broad-shouldered elf bowed its head to him, and looked at Gregor with a face carved from marble, before it swung its shield around to blind the goblins. It's staff, a whirlwind of scorching white-hot flames that hunted them down in scourging streaks of fire even as Gregor thought to himself that he must be truly mad.
Hands shaking with sweat, he tried to move forward, and looked down to see a fleshless arm holding onto him, and hacked it away. The voice as per usual gone again when he needed the most answers, and turned his attention towards the blackened clouds, his lungs filled with the acrid stench of smoke as the warrior-mage returned covered in blood, it's cool gaze empty of all emotion. "What now?"
Trembling with a mixture of pleasure and pain at the release of so much magical energy, he studied the battlefield that lay spread out before him in all directions. The legionaries that had managed to hold their ground on the hilltop, whittled down one by one, while orcs milled about behind them in pale-faced terror.
-10 Mana.
(Order it to fight. 5 Mana.)
Finally, he snapped, "Get rid of them," and felt another surge of power flow through him as the warrior-mage bowed its head again, and glided away. Its staff raised before it to release bolts of lightning that sizzled and crackled through the air, and it's form turning into mist as it floated upwards into the sky, when it launched a barrage of death that mowed down hundreds. Littering the field with thousands of smoldering bodies, and creating burning pires of dead that brought the stench of cooking meat.
It wasn't long after that the goblins turned about and fled. The few berserkers that he had seen earlier, tearing each other apart in a blind rage, leaving only the lightning bolts that continued to rain down from the clouds, and suck at the light.
Grizzled hard features a mask of exhaustion, a grey-furred minotaur that had a missing eye, walked over to stand by Gregor's side, his face half-covered in blood as he bowed his head to him. "Thanks be to the Lightbearer."
A thought that at any time would have made Gregor laugh, but as he stared around him at the battlefield, he could feel nothing but fear. He still needed to find Lytan and Sara. (Scroll down and click the Continue option.)
-5 Mana.
+1 Morale.
(Order it to find Lytan and Sara. 2 Mana.)
But that was not what he had come here to do, and so he replied, "find Lytan and Sara."
Its strange eyes swirling into different colors as the elf looked down at him for a moment, before it intoned, "I cannot sense them."
Heart lurching to the side at the thought he was too late, he could feel his skin begin to burn, breath ragged, when he asked, "are they dead?"
But the Atronoch simply shook his head, its face expressionless. "I do not know."
Not really sure what to make of its answer, Gregor examined the remains of the dead goblins, wondering if there was some hidden meaning to it? (Continue with, order it to fight.)
-2 Mana.
+2 Morale.
(Avalanche of fire. Cost 5 Mana.)
Hands moving of their own accord, he dodged a thrown spear meant for his chest, and held out his arms in front of him. The goblins that snarled and came for him, washed away by a wall of fire that coursed out his veins like a rush of heat that scorched everything around him, turning the frost to water, and leaping across the tents to spring a fire that surged and boiled with fury. His every breath a quaking ecstasy of pain as he drew upon the power inside of him, and hunted them down, while his thoughts shot from one way to the next at the thought that he was going mad.
Hands lowered slowly, he felt a touch of...fear perhaps? And examined the wide circle of blackened ash that was filled with mounds that had once been goblins, before he twisted around to study the battlefield. The rugged hilly terrain, thick with dead bodies, black carrion birds that circled the air, and the continuous ring of battle. The legionaries pushed back further up the hill, where they were being whittled down one by one, the terrified faces of orcs behind them.
(Call another Avalanche of fire. 5 Mana.)
Gregor rushing towards them, his body shaking with energy as the two forces battled each other along the slopes, and had to avoid a blood-crazed berserker. Her face masked by blood, and crimson red eyes, seeing nothing as she leaped past him to rip out the throat of a goblin, her skin covered in scars, and expression dark with fury. Before he was face to face with swarms of undead that had lost all resemblance to life, and bands of wild-eyed goblins fought with tooth, nail, and spears.
Eyes never leaving theirs, he snarled at a cut along his spine, felt his eardrums beaten by the sound of their howls, before he waved his arms out. The second wave of fire, a torrent of white-hot heat that transformed the corpses into ash, and sent the goblins reeling away in fear. Their yellow eyes livid with rage as a few tried to reach him through the flames, when finally everything around him was dead.
Heart still pumping with adrenaline as he glanced at his handiwork, he could see the bloodied and battered vestiges of the legionaries staring down at him in disbelief, when one of their number walked towards him.
A hulking minotaur with the grizzled hard features of a warrior as he moved to stand beside him, blood leaking out from one missing eye. "You have the will and luck of the divine, my friend."
A thought that at any time would have made Gregor laugh, but as he stared around him at the battlefield, he could feel nothing but fear. He still needed to find Lytan and Sara. (Scroll down and click the Continue option.)
-1 HP.
(Rush to their aid.)
Gregor rushing towards them, his body shaking with energy as the two forces battled each other along the slopes, and had to avoid a blood-crazed berserker. Her face masked by blood, and crimson red eyes, seeing nothing as she leaped past him to rip out the throat of a goblin, her skin covered in scars, and expression dark with fury. Before he was face to face with swarms of undead that had lost all resemblance to life, and bands of wild-eyed goblins fought with tooth, nail, and spears.
Eyes never leaving theirs, he snarled at a cut along his spine, felt his eardrums beaten by the sound of their howls, before he dove straight into the chaos. His shortsword, a storm of flashing steel that carved through lines of enemies that swung round to face him. Their slitted eyes full of rage as his skin was soaked red with their blood, and Gregor felt at home, with snarling beasts all around him, death inevitable, and a glorious battle before him. Each swordstroke focused towards slicing his way through them, when the lines of goblins shattered, and fell apart.
Shocked and appalled that he had not gotten to kill more, he stared after them, wondering what had happened, when one of the legionaries that had been gaping at him, walked over towards him.
A hulking minotaur with the grizzled hard features of a warrior, he stood there beside Gregor, blood leaking out from his missing eye, and shook his head. "You have the luck of the divine, my friend."
A thought that at any time would have made Gregor laugh, but as he stared around him at the battlefield, he could feel nothing but fear. He still needed to find Lytan and Sara. (Scroll down and click the Continue option.)
-4 HP.
(Conserve Mana and battle with steel.)
Preferring his own steel to some blasted magic, he moved faster and faster, his blade appearing like smoke, here the one second, and then there the next. But even without a glance around him, Gregor knew he was in trouble.
Coming at him from all sides in waves of stabbing spears, goblins closed in all around him, hide bucklers blocking his attacks, when he felt the sweet kiss of steel enter his spine. His last glimpse of life, before goblins tore him open were yellow glowing eyes, and the image of the woman shaking her head in disappointment.
Death.