Something crashed against Nerith. Air left her lungs as she hit the floor. Dazed, she gasped deeply, but it was as if a boulder was preventing her from breathing. She tried to get up but two hands grabbed her throat and pinned her back down. She opened her eyes and saw a scraggly beard, tan skin, and bloodshot eyes. Angry eyes. The eyes of a man whose primal instincts had kicked in. Instincts that told him he had to either run from or kill his predator.
He had chosen to kill.
The same instincts quickly kicked in for Nerith. She held her assailant's wrists and tried to pry them off. It was no use. These were men that had spent their life doing manual labour; raw strength would not work. She readied her hands for another Fire Bolt, but the man pinned her arms with his knees.
Her vision became blurry.
She began to desperately flail her legs, hoping to use her core strength to push him off. She was big, she could do it, she had to do it.
She could feel the strength leaving her body, the corners of her vision darkening. She was going to die here, in this palace, at the hands of a mere guard. She thought of everything she went through to get here. The good, the bad, the very bad. Her family, her friends, her questions. Unanswered. And she would never find those answers.
No... no, no, no...
There was another flash next to her but she couldn't see what it was. She could only focus on the man's veins bulging out of his frenzied face, growing bigger, darker.
And then, he exploded.
Nerith pushed the corpse off her and turned on her stomach, coughing, grasping for air. It came slowly, but at least it came. She was covered in blood. At least, she thought it was blood. It almost looked... black?
She looked back at her foe. His veins were black, well visible on his skin throughout the whole body. There were several points where they had popped through the skin.
Nerith shivered.
She looked around and saw Mavar staring at her, left arm stretched out towards her opponent, a ring on his hand faintly glowing. A dark mist coming out of him. Or was it... being drawn to him?
Nerith hesitated. "Hum... thanks," she managed to splutter in between breaths. Mavar simply nodded and strode off.
Nerith scoffed and slowly got up.
Damn elves.
YOU ARE READING
The War of Gods
FantasíaBased on a Dungeons and Dragons Campaign: Twelve people all around the world get chosen by God to find three Godly artifacts. Whoever is holding on to those artifacts after a year gets to keep them. Things get bloody, fast.
