Role

Chapter 4

"Aye, Gladly" I answer to his call. Then head towards the Silverwood,
spotting the magistrates on the great Eastern road as I travel westward down
it. "They are likely heading for the Refuge," I call out.

Then the ancient suggests, "Times to strike then." Quanhest decides to stay
and protect the Spirit against their onslaught as I travel to the Spire to
aid as best I can. I rush to the Captain, kicking dirt off the floor
directly into his eyes, distracting him from my barrage of blows. It's at
this point the Ancient shows his prowess, and provides aid sending his bear
and treants against the Captain alongside him. I am filled with awe as I
watch my Lord in his element, hunting with fierce strikes. But just as he
is making short work of the Captain, and all seems to lend to us taking the
Scales... she arrives.

The witch holds her palms to the sky, and frost coalesces into tiny slivers.
Slashing out in all directions, striking Ergush all along his side and even
slamming into his treant. Awestruck I watch the gods battle just as
fervently as I watch my own battle with the Captain. And just as I hear the
Huntress cry out in her deaththroes the Captain succumbs to our assault.
Realizing I do not have time to revel in my Lord's hunt I move on to the
Executioner with Edelrock, as he cuts into it with his massive claws as he
has turned into a roaring lion. As I avoid the Executioners blows and swing
about wildly as those of the sands do when they whirl like a dervish, the
titanic scuffle finds its way to the Tribunal altar. Seeing the witch out
of the corner of my eye, I am blinded momentarily by the roar of heat and
light that rolls off of her as she TORCHES me with some sort of Nova. It
becomes apparent, the Witch has turned her attentions to ME! She begins
weaving her spells making me light, and lethargic. Armored with my faith I
fight on, watching Ergush distract her once again. I take a moments
reprieve to return to the silverwood to look for medicine, before returning
to find the Executioner half felled. Whirling around the Lion as he sinks
his claws into the guardian we manage to whittle him down, as I see the
Ancient go for the kill and rip the throat out of the Executioner. He calls
me to the Silverwood where I gather the Scales to return them to the Spirit,
who has also just fallen. Fortunately as I travel through the trees the
Nightreaver proves her prowess and hunts down the paladin holding the
fetish, returning it to where it belongs. The Spirit eyes me thoughtfully
as he takes the scales from my hand, locking them away with a grin.

She calls, and we hear. Strength and survival, difficulty and freedom. We
are Hers, and we relish in the hunt.

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