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AN ELEGENT FLOWER WITH PURPLE HUES
Author: Victor Amos Regannez
last update2023-04-05 09:37:18

One of the horned minotaurs, rushed to were a big, long horn was kept, presumably for the purpose of sending a signal so he could alarm their fellow warriors of the need for help in critical cases of infiltration, such as the one they found themselves in at the moment.

The minotaur grasped the horn and readied himself to blow it, however before he could pump some air into the horn, an arrow flew out of the nothigness of the cold night, and plunged right deep into his skull.

The horned minotaurs now fourteen in number, struggled to ready themselves with their weapons, grasping both labrys and spears of different varieties, but forged according to Gorelish style, with the sharp edges of the labrys arching up to the wooden shaft.

They wore nervous expressions on their faces, as the infiltrators charged menacingly at them, however it did not take up to five heartbeats before he fighting started.

Koorban rushed fearlessly towards one of the horned creatures, who out of desperation, aimed h
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  • EPILOGUE

    Epilogue:Days had passed since Lord Mordian's successful but perilous attempt to harness the arcane forces and restore the fallen soldiers. The initial triumph had given way to a relentless and sinister consequence that now gripped him with an iron hold.Lord Mordian's once vibrant complexion had faded to a sickly pallor, his skin appearing almost translucent under the harsh daylight. Dark circles etched themselves beneath his eyes, marking the toll of sleepless nights and restless vigils.His once steady hands now trembled, the faint quiver betraying the constant strain he was under. His arms and legs felt as if they were aflame, an unrelenting burn that surged through his veins like molten lava. The physical torment was unceasing, a constant reminder of the power he had dared to command.The palms of his hands bore the brunt of the adverse effect. Sections of skin peeled away, leaving behind raw, tender patches that stung with every touch. Lord Mordian's fingertips were bliste

  • SHADOWS OF DOUBT: BENEVOLENCE IN QUESTION

    "In times of war, there must be consequences for actions taken," Bongan Rodbar's voice carried an air of authority as he addressed the captive commander. "You are responsible for the pain and suffering this invasion has brought upon these lands. And now, you must face the consequences.""I was carrying out my orders!" The chief commander replied coldly, with a malevolent look at Bongan Rodbar.Bongan Rodbar turned to Lord Mordian and Lord Barthine Loust, his eyes steady. "Gentlemen, as a symbol of justice and retribution, one of you may choose to deliver the final blow. The choice is yours."A heavy silence hung in the air as Lord Barthine Loust exchanged a contemplative look with Lord Mordian. Then, in a surprising turn of events, Lord Barthine Loust unfastened his own sword from his side and stepped forward, his eyes locked on Lord Mordian."Lord Mordian," he began, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity, "it is you who deserves this chance. For all you have done, and for what yo

  • UNEXPECTED IDENTITY

    As the dust began to settle on the battlefield, Lord Mordian and Lord Barthine Loust exchanged weary yet triumphant glances. The unexpected intervention of the Elerian warriors had turned the tide of battle in their favor, saving Prodloust from the clutches of Quanian annexation.Amidst the aftermath of the chaotic struggle, a presence drew their attention. Among the Elerian horsemen, a mounted soldier stood out, his demeanor exuding an air of command and authority. Even from a distance, it was clear that he was the leader of this formidable force, and his presence was a beacon of hope and strength.As the Bauthinian soldiers continued to regroup, Lord Mordian and Lord Barthine Loust's eyes were drawn to the mounted leader. His attire spoke of his status and prowess. He wore intricately designed chain mail that gleamed even in the dim moonlight, each link a testament to the craftsmanship that had gone into its creation. His helmet was a work of art in itself, adorned with elegant

  • RENEWED VALOR TRIUMPH

    With a fierce determination, Lord Barthine Loust carefully lowered Lord Mordian to the ground, his movements deliberate and calculated. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, the cold metal a comforting weight in his hand. As the two Quanian soldiers charged towards him, he took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest.Ducking beneath the first swing of a Quanian blade, Lord Barthine Loust's movements were fluid and precise. He sidestepped another strike, the air whistling as the enemy's weapon sliced through the space where he had been. His mind raced, analyzing every movement of his opponents, seeking out their vulnerabilities.With a swift motion, Lord Barthine Loust parried a blow and countered with a calculated strike of his own. His sword met the Quanian soldier's weapon with a resounding clash, the force of the impact reverberating through his arms. He lunged forward, his blade finding its mark and carving a deep gash across the soldier's chest.However,

  • THE SIEGE OF PRODLOUST 7

    Amidst the chaos, the spectral warriors led by Lord Barthine Loust and Gorloth charged into the heart of the Quanian forces with an otherworldly ferocity. Their armor gleamed with an ethereal radiance as they clashed with the enemy, cutting through the Quanian soldiers with unmatched skill and precision. The Bauthinian foot soldiers, who had been struggling earlier, were awestruck and filled with renewed hope as they witnessed the terrifying warriors with their haunting helmets fighting on their side.Amidst the clash of steel and the cries of battle, the Bauthinian soldiers couldn't believe their eyes. "Who are these warriors and why do they wear such haunting helmets?" one soldier exclaimed in disbelief. Another shouted, "We're not alone! They should be mercenaries hired by Lord Barthine Loust to help us defend our city!" The sight of these fearsome warriors turned the tide of morale, igniting a newfound fire within the Bauthinian ranks.Gorloth, with his long sword and battleaxe,

  • THE SIEGE OF PRODLOUST 6

    Amidst the sea of chaos and carnage, Lord Mordian's focus was unyielding, his sword an extension of his indomitable will. Every strike he made was a tribute to the countless lives he aimed to protect. As a Quanian soldier's shield smashed into his face, a blinding flash of pain erupted, and he staggered backward, his vision momentarily blurred.But even in the midst of this disorienting blow, his training and instincts took over. The burly Quanian soldier lunged at him, his swift movements designed to exploit the momentary weakness. Hammering blows rained down upon Lord Mordian, testing his defenses. Steel met steel as Mordian parried and blocked the onslaught, his muscles straining against the powerful attacks.With each parry, he calculated his opponent's movements, his mind racing even as the world spun around him. His resolve was unshaken, his determination unwavering. In a lightning-quick motion, he sidestepped an incoming strike, his body moving with a grace that belied the

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