10-13-2013, 12:13 PM
The abominations looming on the horizon were the last things Nyx wanted to see.
Though her body had recovered from the banshee’s attack, she was in emotional turmoil. The demon was relentless in its assault, and seemed to gain confidence as time went by. She still wasn’t sure exactly what it wanted from her, but there was one thing she was certain of: it wouldn’t stop until its desires were met.
The staff she had stolen from the fallen Chieftain was almost comforting in its melodic thuds against her back, but the ruby on its tip radiated heat unlike anything she had ever felt. Beads of sweat formed on the back of her neck; though her face remained cool thanks to the chill of the night air.
Her heart ached for Thanatos. She was sure he could handle himself, but what if the Professor wasn’t able to save Dobson? Had she left her saber to die at the hands of a turning undead? Would she be able to live with herself if the doubts that plagued her held any truth?
Whirda dismounted, drawing her weapons and uttering the incantation Tyrande had taught her. The horde was making progress, but it was slow and laboured. She anticipated that she had at least a few more minutes before they actually reached her. She took the opportunity to cast a glance over her shoulder, and noticed the blood mage swaying in Cascade’s saddle.
“Nyx!” Whirda yelled, desperate to tug the blood mage from her haze.
The sound of her voice did something. Nyx snapped out of her trance, her eyes narrowing. She purposefully leapt from Cascade’s back, drawing the staff. The ruby atop it roiled and bubbled, the blood within seeming to turn black. Nyx strode forward, confidently walking towards the approaching undead.
“I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?” the blood mage purred darkly. She swung her staff, and a flurry of blood bolts shot out from the ruby and pelted the unsuspecting horde. They staggered and stumbled, their attention now focused on the blood mage. One of them howled in fury. She smirked and swung her staff again. A second flurry of blood bolts assailed the horde. A few of the corpses fell, but the rest sped up, baying for Nyx’s blood.
The blood mage raised her staff again… but nothing happened. She lowered her staff, frantically examining it to try and find out what was wrong. The ruby looked empty.
“Oh…” she said. As the horde closed the gap between themselves and the two mages, Nyx realized that there were many more than the first wave had indicated. “… Oh,” she repeated, shooting a hopeful look at Whirda.
Though her body had recovered from the banshee’s attack, she was in emotional turmoil. The demon was relentless in its assault, and seemed to gain confidence as time went by. She still wasn’t sure exactly what it wanted from her, but there was one thing she was certain of: it wouldn’t stop until its desires were met.
The staff she had stolen from the fallen Chieftain was almost comforting in its melodic thuds against her back, but the ruby on its tip radiated heat unlike anything she had ever felt. Beads of sweat formed on the back of her neck; though her face remained cool thanks to the chill of the night air.
Her heart ached for Thanatos. She was sure he could handle himself, but what if the Professor wasn’t able to save Dobson? Had she left her saber to die at the hands of a turning undead? Would she be able to live with herself if the doubts that plagued her held any truth?
Whirda dismounted, drawing her weapons and uttering the incantation Tyrande had taught her. The horde was making progress, but it was slow and laboured. She anticipated that she had at least a few more minutes before they actually reached her. She took the opportunity to cast a glance over her shoulder, and noticed the blood mage swaying in Cascade’s saddle.
“Nyx!” Whirda yelled, desperate to tug the blood mage from her haze.
The sound of her voice did something. Nyx snapped out of her trance, her eyes narrowing. She purposefully leapt from Cascade’s back, drawing the staff. The ruby atop it roiled and bubbled, the blood within seeming to turn black. Nyx strode forward, confidently walking towards the approaching undead.
“I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?” the blood mage purred darkly. She swung her staff, and a flurry of blood bolts shot out from the ruby and pelted the unsuspecting horde. They staggered and stumbled, their attention now focused on the blood mage. One of them howled in fury. She smirked and swung her staff again. A second flurry of blood bolts assailed the horde. A few of the corpses fell, but the rest sped up, baying for Nyx’s blood.
The blood mage raised her staff again… but nothing happened. She lowered her staff, frantically examining it to try and find out what was wrong. The ruby looked empty.
“Oh…” she said. As the horde closed the gap between themselves and the two mages, Nyx realized that there were many more than the first wave had indicated. “… Oh,” she repeated, shooting a hopeful look at Whirda.