JavaScript is required to use

Сервисное предупреждение
Завтра Destiny 2 будет временно недоступна в связи с плановым техобслуживанием. Следите за новостями @BungieHelp.


Изменено (AggressiveBacon): 8/26/2018 1:27:30 PM

The Lords of Ambros (Chapter 7, Part 1)

Table of Contents: [b]Chapter 7, Part 1[/b] Felwinter shot through the night, his normally bright armor of ivory and bronze now only a smear of gray motion amid the black. The only sounds his sensors could detect were those of his mount: a stocky bay, pushed far beyond its limit and nearing death. The scholar noted the white foam accumulating at the beast's mouth, as well as its labored breathing, but he paid these things no heed. The others weren't far behind him. He hadn't any time to waste. Turning from these thoughts, Felwinter's mind shifted to the encounter that awaited him. He rode to meet with Ikoris. To halt his advance. To cut the head from the snake, and to watch its body rot before him. A stiff wind swept down from the north, rushing to meet Felwinter's charge and causing his horse to sway. The Iron Lord was unfazed by the gust, but was nonetheless stirred from his musings. Hearing the faint rhythm of a hoofbeat, he spurred his mount onward. The beast lowered its head, uttered a quavering whinny, and plunged to the icy ground as its knees buckled beneath it. Felwinter responded, vaulting from the saddle, and adding a burst of Light to focus his momentum. His landing was a soft one, and he transitioned from flight to a sprint without faltering. The scholar did not spare so much as a backward glance for his fallen steed. It was dead. He was sure of it. However, despite his need for haste, he was brought to a halt by a startling realization. The sound of hooves had yet to cease. In fact, it had only grown louder. Felwinter turned. A streak of motion flashed by inches to his right, stunning him, and he was swept into the air before he could process what his sensors were attempting to convey. _______________ Gheleon's hand sprang into the air, balled into a fist. The column's pace slowed to a canter, then a trot, and, eventually, a halt. The Lord of Iron wheeled his horse about to face his companions. He sat in silence, his gaze sweeping from helmet to helmet, lingering on Felwinter's visor, then flicking to the Lord seated nearest him. Gheleon gave a slight nod, but no sound escaped him. Felwinter broke the silence. Dismounting with great annoyance, the scholar shot his captor an angry glare before addressing Gheleon. "Why are you here?" he demanded. "Radegast didn't take kindly to your sudden departure...or your suicidal intent", the scout drawled in answer. Felwinter did not respond, electing instead to continue his journey on foot. "You can't fight him alone", Gheleon called. "He'll tear you apart. Don't have any bones for me to pick through, neither." "I [i]am[/i] going to fight him, Gheleon. Wait for my return if you wish. Should I succeed, I will bring you his bones. Should I fail, I suspect that you will have many bones to choose from." "I don't give a damn about the bones", the frontiersman stated flatly. "We aren't here to stop you; we're your escort. Now get on the horse." _______________ [i]Tips, criticism, questions, etcetera are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading my work.[/i]

Публикуется на языке:


Играйте достойно. Потратьте минутку на ознакомление с нашими правилами, прежде чем отправлять вашу запись. Отмена Изменить Создать боевую группу Опубликовать

У вас нет прав для просмотра этих материалов.
preload icon
preload icon
preload icon