With the rider and beast closer to Soleil, she would have seen a tremendous amount of scars and even some fresh wounds all over both. A few arrow shafts stuck out from the rider and beast. The glowing crimson eyes stared at the Initiate. The lizard snarled.
“Get on, the Blood Lord is waiting,” the rider told Soleil.
A name that might be familiar to Soleil, as it was spoken about sometimes in the Academy. The Blood Lord is a First Level Dreadlord that leads the Blood Army of the Urahils.
Likely, she was the most powerful blood mage within Vel Anir.
And Archon Isbrand was her older brother.
When Soleil would follow the rider, they would speed off and back toward the Fellowship camp. Several elven bodies could be seen on the way back – two mangled corpses of particular note sitting next to the stream Soleil passed earlier.
Once back in the elven encampment, Soleil would see a few more elven bodies strewn about. Several tents were on fire – including the one where she witnessed the attempted blood ritual. The count of elven bodies was far fewer than even the numbers Soleil would have seen before - and there was no sign of the Seer or Othellian Clear Sky.
The cackling of an elderly woman could be heard deeper within the camp. The rider would bring Soleil toward the source of this laughter.
Which would eventually reveal a site of a woman with aged, silver hair standing above an elven archer on his knees. On a bench in sight of this scene would be Aelita and Joel – with one less arm than before. An elderly man performed healing magic on both to tend to their wounds.
The woman spoke to the elf in his own tongue. With a face of disgust, the elf spat on the ground and told her, “I say nothing, you Anirian pig dog.”
The elderly woman tilted her head and stretched out an arm.
“Fine,” she told him with a smile as she curled her fingers and activated her magic.
The elf’s body contorted into a shape no living being was meant to take. The sound of bone snapping into multiple pieces pierced through the crackling of the burning tents. A gurgle of pain escaped from the elf’s mouth before that was silenced with death.
After that, the woman – the Blood Lord – turned to see Soleil and the rider.
“Oh, the last child,” she said as she looked at Soleil, “Get down from there and tell me what happened. I’ve already heard from the others, but a third story is always good.”
“Get on, the Blood Lord is waiting,” the rider told Soleil.
A name that might be familiar to Soleil, as it was spoken about sometimes in the Academy. The Blood Lord is a First Level Dreadlord that leads the Blood Army of the Urahils.
Likely, she was the most powerful blood mage within Vel Anir.
And Archon Isbrand was her older brother.
When Soleil would follow the rider, they would speed off and back toward the Fellowship camp. Several elven bodies could be seen on the way back – two mangled corpses of particular note sitting next to the stream Soleil passed earlier.
Once back in the elven encampment, Soleil would see a few more elven bodies strewn about. Several tents were on fire – including the one where she witnessed the attempted blood ritual. The count of elven bodies was far fewer than even the numbers Soleil would have seen before - and there was no sign of the Seer or Othellian Clear Sky.
The cackling of an elderly woman could be heard deeper within the camp. The rider would bring Soleil toward the source of this laughter.
Which would eventually reveal a site of a woman with aged, silver hair standing above an elven archer on his knees. On a bench in sight of this scene would be Aelita and Joel – with one less arm than before. An elderly man performed healing magic on both to tend to their wounds.
The woman spoke to the elf in his own tongue. With a face of disgust, the elf spat on the ground and told her, “I say nothing, you Anirian pig dog.”
The elderly woman tilted her head and stretched out an arm.
“Fine,” she told him with a smile as she curled her fingers and activated her magic.
The elf’s body contorted into a shape no living being was meant to take. The sound of bone snapping into multiple pieces pierced through the crackling of the burning tents. A gurgle of pain escaped from the elf’s mouth before that was silenced with death.
After that, the woman – the Blood Lord – turned to see Soleil and the rider.
“Oh, the last child,” she said as she looked at Soleil, “Get down from there and tell me what happened. I’ve already heard from the others, but a third story is always good.”
