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   Chapter 16 No.16

The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - A People Defiled By AaronDennis Characters: 5583

Updated: 2018-01-08 12:03

Losing himself in hatred for Lagos, for Parish, for destruction, he cleaved a woman in two, elbowed a man, swung his axe to decapitate another, pulled back to swing his axe behind his back, and spun to bring it across his body with a blow that knocked over several more, and thus he revealed a horrid apparition. An armored man wreathed in flames made his approach. The knight in dark armor carried a sword and shield, and he strode through the mob, knocking people this way and that, yet the citizens did not fight him.

Too busy to pay the stranger attention, Larson kept clashing weapons. He took one young man by the collar of his tunic, head butted him, tossed him into the crowd, slashed out the knees of more closing the distance, and brought his axe into the belly of a peasant writhing in the mud. Looking up, he saw the knight drawing nearer; the visor of his horned helmet was raised. A dreadful, armored skeleton alight in flames sparking like lightning was marching onwards. The crowd parted like ocean waves giving the horrified warrior a complete view of the deathknight.

Daemonic armor had been woven into the deathknight's bones. Heavier plates covered the arms and legs, and the horns on the helmet were those of a goat. Between the plates, hellfire erupted in pulsating flares. The fiery knight came to stand before Larson and stopped within sword's reach. As the crowd grew still, the warrior heard his friends shouting; at the rear of the mob, they fought on.

"The girl is in the cemetery, " the knight said in a bloodcurdling, guttural tone. An odious wretch poured forth from the beast, its voice like that of rumbling thunder. Gazing upon the

him, " Parish replied. "He can cut you down in the blink of an eye. If I wanted you dead, you would be."

"Why are you doing this?" Larson shouted. "How, how can you be like this?! People have died because of you! What do you hope to gain from such…destruction?"

The warrior knew the answer. It was written all over Parish's face. The old man grinned a malevolent smile.

"I want you to run back to the little princeling in Xorinth. Tell him of the horrors I command. Let him raise an army to storm Glennmoor…as has already been done in Owensbrook. War, young warrior, what are you without war? I crave it; death and destruction, I need it, want it, embrace it!" Parish grew agitated; his muscles shook beneath his robe, and he clenched his fists. "Consider this; Mathew involves Prince Roan, and they march onto Stormguard, and they will secure victory before they march onto Glennmoor, but my hatred has already spread into Faaltosk to the north and Truad to the east. It will not be long before the entire world is engulfed in the flames of destruction, and who will be at the head of the army? I will!"

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