Evanthe
06-18-2008, 01:26 PM
The armor was hot against her skin, searing into her flesh despite the harsh wind that whipped across the frozen valley. Her skin crawled underneath the fel-tinged robes, begging her to cast the garments aside with as much force as she could muster. Evanthe fought through her revulsion, a battle of will as hard-fought as any in the Alteracs. She had to know. She had to test. The armor stayed on.
The dwarf crested the hill, his mail armor glinting in the cold sunlight. Another sunbeam reflected off the barrel of his rifle, blinding her for a split second as he raised it to a firing position. Movement to her right-- a brown blur hurtling towards her. Boar, she realized as the charging animal connected with her thigh, the impact stunning her.
She had known something was wrong almost immediately. She had created a soul well herself hundreds of times, the words of the spell so ingrained she could recite them backwards with ease. She had used them many more times over. There was nothing special about Izrail's, the familiar hiss from it's depths a comfort. And yet when she touched it the feeling of disgust that came over her was so powerful she recoiled as if the well were a pit of aroused vipers.
With a word Evanthe called her felhunter to her and sent him after the hunter. A bitter, metallic taste filled her mouth as the demon's form materialized from the Nether. The boar worked on her leg as she felt a bullet graze her ear. She howled, causing the animal to flee in terror. The hunter pulled his rifle up, taking the time to steady his hands before firing off another shot.
The incantation was quick, and so was its effect. The words that used to flitter from her tounge like butterflies flying from one chalice of necter to the next slogged from her mouth with an acrid taste, burning the soft surfaces of her mouth.
The hunter bolted as the spell took effect, all reason replaced with a primal fear. The felhunter nipped at his heels, devouring any benevolent spell cast for his behalf. She cursed him; a sharp pain ripped through her abdomen. She spoke another spell and the fire in her stomach expanded. A quick glance at her surroundings confirmed what she already knew. There was no one else close enough to have caused the hot poker-like pain in her gut.
The dwarf shook himself free of the spell, spinning around quickly to face her. He began firing rapidly, his skin becoming flushed with rage. The boar crashed into her again, stunning her briefly.
Evanthe began another incantation. A wave of nausea overcame her as the shadows coalesced at her fingertips. The world began to spin, the ground below her titling like a raft in high seas. As the shadowbolt flew from her fingertips the nausea grew stronger. This time she drew felfire to her, but her sickness did not subside. The edges of her vision grew dark. Her skin burned from his bullets and her armor.
The boar's tusks ripped into her thigh as the dwarf continued to pepper her with shots, his aim worsening as her magic took effect. She began to drain his very life-force, pulling it into her body instead. She could feel it enter her, choking her, crushing her. She forced herself to keep channelling until the dwarf collapsed, keep channelling until she was sure he was truely dead.
Unable to hold it in any longer she ran to the side of the hill and vomitted until there was nothing left but dry heaves.
The dwarf crested the hill, his mail armor glinting in the cold sunlight. Another sunbeam reflected off the barrel of his rifle, blinding her for a split second as he raised it to a firing position. Movement to her right-- a brown blur hurtling towards her. Boar, she realized as the charging animal connected with her thigh, the impact stunning her.
She had known something was wrong almost immediately. She had created a soul well herself hundreds of times, the words of the spell so ingrained she could recite them backwards with ease. She had used them many more times over. There was nothing special about Izrail's, the familiar hiss from it's depths a comfort. And yet when she touched it the feeling of disgust that came over her was so powerful she recoiled as if the well were a pit of aroused vipers.
With a word Evanthe called her felhunter to her and sent him after the hunter. A bitter, metallic taste filled her mouth as the demon's form materialized from the Nether. The boar worked on her leg as she felt a bullet graze her ear. She howled, causing the animal to flee in terror. The hunter pulled his rifle up, taking the time to steady his hands before firing off another shot.
The incantation was quick, and so was its effect. The words that used to flitter from her tounge like butterflies flying from one chalice of necter to the next slogged from her mouth with an acrid taste, burning the soft surfaces of her mouth.
The hunter bolted as the spell took effect, all reason replaced with a primal fear. The felhunter nipped at his heels, devouring any benevolent spell cast for his behalf. She cursed him; a sharp pain ripped through her abdomen. She spoke another spell and the fire in her stomach expanded. A quick glance at her surroundings confirmed what she already knew. There was no one else close enough to have caused the hot poker-like pain in her gut.
The dwarf shook himself free of the spell, spinning around quickly to face her. He began firing rapidly, his skin becoming flushed with rage. The boar crashed into her again, stunning her briefly.
Evanthe began another incantation. A wave of nausea overcame her as the shadows coalesced at her fingertips. The world began to spin, the ground below her titling like a raft in high seas. As the shadowbolt flew from her fingertips the nausea grew stronger. This time she drew felfire to her, but her sickness did not subside. The edges of her vision grew dark. Her skin burned from his bullets and her armor.
The boar's tusks ripped into her thigh as the dwarf continued to pepper her with shots, his aim worsening as her magic took effect. She began to drain his very life-force, pulling it into her body instead. She could feel it enter her, choking her, crushing her. She forced herself to keep channelling until the dwarf collapsed, keep channelling until she was sure he was truely dead.
Unable to hold it in any longer she ran to the side of the hill and vomitted until there was nothing left but dry heaves.