Role

Chapter 11

Alrion stood definately staring at the monk and uttered a single
word.

"No!"

"You deny me? Deny your destiny?"

A surging heat filled the room as the blazing sword named
Incinerator flared with an unholy light as the Monk drew it from
his scabard.

Alrions eyes narrowed as he picked up the wooden weapon!

"YOU"

Placing the sword before him in a futile effort to stop the flaming
blade did little more than add fuel to the fire. The wood little
more effective than a stick of butter would have been, as the
flaming blade dropped in a brutal cleaving motion. As it struck
Alrion Silvery-white flames flared brightly along his wounds,
imbuing him with a strength like he had never felt before.

Tohr's jaw dropped, quickly falling back he stammered in shock

"This cannot be!"

Quickly tracing a rune in the air Tohr uttered a singe word and
vanished.