[color=lightgray]Shirik expected the snow to fall within a few days, and so they had gone off to hunt again. One last hunt, and they’d be settled for the season. Velhass decided to stay at home today, and finish off preserving the food they had stocked up. It wasn’t much, but they had managed to build a storehouse in Shirik’s garden, with a smoking pit just outside. He felt they were already set for winter, but Shirik wanted to be sure, knowing the forest’s dwellers would be in hibernation before long. Better to have more than they could eat, than to have less. Velhass strung some sliced fish over the smoker, as the flames started to grow underneath. The sky had been growing gray all day, and he hoped he could get his task done before rain came. 

He heard rustling noises in the grass, and quickly turned around. They were always alone, out here. Something was moving where he couldn’t see, and it put him on edge quicker than it should have. Velhass reached for a knife he kept at his waist and snuck around the fence. He walked up to a tall and stout tree, big enough for a Glen to behind in. 

[color=cornflowerblue]”Who’s there?”[/color] He demanded.

The rustling stopped, and something made a [i]thud.[/i]

Silence.

[color=cornflowerblue]”I can hear you. Come out. [i]Now.[/i][/color] Velhass bristled. He knew when someone was sneaking up on him with ill intent, having grown up in the worst parts of society. He was irrationally tense right now.

[color=cornflowerblue]”I said-”[/color]

A small creature walked out in front of Velhass, no larger than his foot. Shirik called these things macrasins. It had a slender body, and a pair of circular ears, and jet black fur. Two large, prehensile pairs of claws helped them climb trees with a thick tail. Entirely harmless, other than their ability to nibble through traps.

Velhass exhaled, not realizing he had held his breath so long. [color=cornflowerblue]”How did you get here?”[/color] He asked the macrasin, sounding more amused than scared, now. [color=cornflowerblue]”Shouldn’t you be up in a tree, somewh-”[/color]

[i]Snap.[/i]

His question was cut short, as he felt a white-hot pain in his side, suddenly. It almost knocked him off his feet, as he didn’t fully realize what happened before looking down. A crossbow bolt protruded from his stomach, tipped with a hooked, pyramid-shaped broadhead. Blood dripped from his shirt, down his leg, and [i]that[/i] was the moment when Velhass realized someone had just shot him. 

The pain made his legs give out, and forced a shaky cry of pain from his throat.

The macrasin ran behind him, and he heard metallic footsteps coming forth. Someone was behind him. Velhass rolled over, smearing his blood across his clothes, and saw a Glen adorned in the armor of an Inquisitor holding a crossbow. He has [i]massive.[/i] Velhass reached for his knife without thinking about it, and flung it at his attacker like an axe. But he caught it between his fingers.

Every instinct in his body told him to move. To live another day. To [i]run.[/i] And so that was what he did. Pain meant nothing to him in the instance where he hurled himself over the wooden fence, and ran for the storehouse. 

[i]Snap.[/i]

Another crossbow bolt struck him in the shoulder, causing him to tumble and fall onto the smoking rack he had set up. The pain he felt in his shoulder was washed away by everything behind his neck being burned. He screamed, until his lungs could not scream anymore, and rolled out of the fire like Shirik described themselves in their stories. The giant Glen was no longer alone, and he could see a vaguely S’toric looking Inquisitor posted up in the trees, pointing a now unloaded crossbow at him. Neither of them spared a word, or even looked particularly stressed.

Everything hurt, and everything was numb. There was no inbetween.

He wanted to scream, to speak or plead for his life. He wanted to cry out for Shirik’s help, but he could not. He wasn’t in the right mindset to even [i]think[/i] right now, and he couldn’t read the thoughts of these invaders. They were black holes to him. 

The edges of his vision were black, and something warm seemed to creep up behind him. He smelled smoke. 

Velhass tried to move, but he fell back against the walls of the storehouse, and felt something burn him again. He slid down the wooden walls, as a third Inquisitor walked up to him, with a cloth hood draped around their mask. They lifted a crossbow and pointed it at Velhass. In futility, he shielded his face with a numb hand, as tears finally slid down his face.

He coughed up blood, and wheezed out the words [color=cornflowerblue]”Please… No.”[/color]

There was no emotion in the eyes of that mask. Only hollow judgment, as the Driisu wearing it said the last thing he ever heard.

[color=green]”You had your chance.”[/color]

[i]Snap.[/i]

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Shirik may have been old, but they still remembered their training in the days before the Kolodon raids, along with the training of their ancestors. During their casting of this spell, they kept their situational awareness as active as possible, keeping an eye on every mimic beast that moved across the battlefield. Including the one that made a move towards them. Their upper body twisted to one side as their legs stayed still, with their left arm not moving. Their right arm slipped until the spear, and Shirik caught it barely two inches away from the pommel-end. In that same moment, they slammed their staff into the dirt, and shouted out an order.

[h3][color=d68300][i]"NOW!"[/i][/color][/h3]

The sky rumbled overhead, and began to glow with an unnatural hue. Between the clouds far above, a cluster of blue balls of fire descended upon the battle. They fall like falling stars, large as a human head, with not but the sound of whistling wind to signal their arrival. Shirik didn't pay the projectiles, which someone might mistake for meteors, any mind. Rather, they hit the dirt, leaping back and hopefully out of the way of the mimic beast. They had faith in their spell, but they still wanted to get the hell out of the way when it started charging. If anyone had eyes strong enough to look at the vibrant blue objects falling from the sky, they might notice that there was exactly one for every mimic beast.

They streaked downwards, landing on each of the creatures with a loud [i]crash.[/i] Much like their icy spear spell, the orbs of blue fire were devoid of all heat and friction. They were intended to freeze the beasts down to their very cores, as quickly as possible. As they made contact, there was a burst of intense, rich blue light that bathed their surroundings in an unnatural hue, for all of two seconds. Fog and mist formed rapidly, trailing in around the blast zones. If Silbermine had hoped that their journey to Mythadia would be discreet, or uneventful, then he would surely be disappointed. The sight was not unlike the Jotunheim crashing to the ground, not long ago.

Silbermine wanted to see Shirik's mettle, so Shirik brought the best. And now, all they could do was hope that the mimic beast charging directly at them happened to stop dead in its tracks before dying a frigid death.

[/color]