Taking in a shaking breath, Viena prepared herself to speak to the fuming lizard man. Years of diplomatic training built on the tip of her tongue. But it never made it to the surface. "Stave off and eat mud you idiot," Sen said, startling everyone. He shifted his body to sit up, grumbling about feeling sore. "There will be no arguing. And if anyone does, you'll wish I had died from that blasted shadowmancer." Skale's saber sword dropped to the floor, clattering like spilled utensils. His scaled jaw gaped, looking at them all in bewilderment. "S-shadowmancer...?" Viena would have laughed if the situation weren't so dire. ~-~ [Avg. word count: 78,000 - 79,000] WARNING: This story does mention tidbits of blood and injury, character death, typical medieval violence, and human vs. nonhuman discrimination.
30 parts