Ice and wind tore at the group as they clustered together - weapons raised, dust, blood, and magic whirling around them.
Where is Sintija? Is she still alive?
Markos mind grasped for answers as his body automatically loaded more maraium shot and gun powder. His tattoos hot as magic flew around and from him. A creature lunged at him and was slammed back by a ice spear as he was almost done reloading. He grunted as he snapped his rifle shut, lifting it back into place.
Caelyn panted as he cut a twisted husk down, his armor covered in ash and gore. "Ice is a good choice." He commented appreciatively as he returned to a more defensive position with the others.
Vladimars screamed in an ancient tongue, calling down fire from the heartstone embedded within his gnarled and charred half staff. The advancing line exploded in a fireball of water and heat. Sweat dripped down his face and his clothes stuck to his skin as he shivered in fear and cold.
