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   Chapter 18 No.18

The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - A People Defiled By AaronDennis Characters: 5426

Updated: 2018-01-08 12:03

The fiery blade came down just between his legs. He knocked it away with his axe, stood, and ran back to hide behind a tombstone. Magick flew by; something blue flashed before Larson's face. He barely turned to peek to his left when an immense, freezing, bone wracking pain forced him to a knee. A glimmering shard of ice magick had pierced his thigh. His femur was broken, and he tried to scramble back, but the deathknight chopped the tombstone in two and kicked one of the halves at the warrior. As Larson cried out in despair, an arc of lightning struck the deathknight.

"Larson!" Lyalla shrieked, aimed her palm, and fired again.

The magick was enough to halt the knight for just a moment, and Mathew ran into the fray. He twirled his hands around as the glistening feathers of griffins floated about him, and he said a few foreign words. A dark mist manifested; it slightly dimmed the sight of the knight.

"I can't hold him forever, " Mathew grunted.

The elf ran over to her friend, gripped the shard of magick protruding from his leg, tore it away, and as he howled, she healed him. "C'mon, let's go!" she ordered.

"Go where?!"

He managed a glance back towards Parish, who was trying to keep away from Garrett's slashes. Fortha was also present and firing magickal arrows at the skeletons from behind one of the mausoleum's pylons, which allowed Charlotte to sneak around the building. She then climbed it before leaping at Parish's back. She quickly reached through his robes before he summoned a blade forged of reddish light. He jammed it into her back, and crying, she fell away, rolled free from th

, thrashed, yelled, and tugged, and the skeleton was slung around the field. With a final scream of pure madness, Larson let go his axe, grabbed the beast by its flaming armor, threw him into a gravestone, wrenched the fiery blade from its bony grip, and hacked and slashed until there was nothing left. Heaving and puffing, the warrior then turned his maniac glare onto Parish, who immediately tried to run away.

"You can't run, Dark Minister, this is what you wanted. Death, a field of death; a dead world to rule…but death levels the field, and it comes for you, too, borne by a man reveling in WAR!" Larson cried.

Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, and though Parish managed to wield some flaming pillars of magick to keep everyone else at arms' length, Larson dispassionately strode across the field of battle. Once he'd had enough, he dashed the last dozen paces and cut through the only magickal bauble hovering between him and the Dark One. He then overtook Parish; wrapping fingers around his enemy's throat, he bashed the back of his head into a stone, screaming.

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