"I am Thisvelt, the southern elf. Prepare to die »
The adventurer, facing his opponent, he raises his fists ready to receive the attack of his opponent, but nothing happened. The room is plunged into an almost terrifying silence, the floor is a mess, covered with soup, bread crumbs and two passed out bodies. The table is on the wall, it was sent far away, some of its pieces ended up scattered everywhere. And in the middle of all this mess stand the two adversaries, both in position. The elf smiled, and laughed hysterically, his hair covering his eyes, his head spinning all over the place. The laughter starts to get louder, but that doesn't distract our adventurer, on the contrary, he clenches his fists, stares at his opponent, takes a breath, and throws himself at him at incredible speed. The elf continued to laugh, despite his opponent's goodness, and when the adventurer was right in front of him, he raised his weapon and parried the punch through the gutter of the sword, then pushed it away. Which made his opponent lose his pose, he finds himself exposed to any attack, but Thisvelt did not do anything, he just continued to laugh as the adventurer retreated as far as possible. The adventurer was speechless, he doesn't understand anything anymore, at the moment he could have been killed at least three times, so the elf isn't trying to kill him? No, the answer is much darker, under his constantly moving hair, the elf's eyes pop out, and with them the reddish glow that emanates from them. He succumbed to madness, already!? The adventurer went to his satchel, he stepped over the bodies of Azkhar and Elima, the floor cracked under the adventurer's feet, once in front of the chair where he was sitting, he hung his weapon on his belt, and reached into his satchel, pulling out a silver bramble, he put it in one of his back pockets. As he got up, a shrill cry rang out, the windows shook just like the ceiling, looking back the adventurer saw the edge of a sword pointing straight at his eyes, he tried to step back, but stumbled on his chair, he then throws himself on the ground to avoid the second attack, the sound of the chair breaking echoes, the pieces go all over the place, and the adventurer with his eyes wide open sees him, the elf has the skin all slashed, the blood red face just like his eyes, his laughter gives way to the howl , symbol of death. The adventurer rolled on himself to avoid the rain of blows that fell on him. Thisvelt lost control a long time ago, if the adventurer does nothing, he risks becoming a monster. The elf is already well advanced in corruption, but yet his attacks are clear and precise, without the slightest flaw or relaxation, flexible attacks worthy of the greatest fencing masters. The adventurer got into position, he stuck his back to the fireplace, then took out his blade, he pointed it towards his adversary as a sign of challenge, silence falls on the room, and the floor is pierced by hundreds of blows. Elf sword. The two enemies found themselves face to face, Thisvelt began to tremble with rage, he advanced in the direction of the adventurer, crushing the last pieces of this table already well destroyed, and then in an almost superhuman speed, he threw himself on him. Thrust, the adventurer dodged, the attack found himself in the wall behind him, the elf's sword got stuck in the solid wood of the wall of the house, the adventurer then threw himself on him with a frontal blow. A huge crash echoes throughout the forest, the walls shake, the paint on the fireplace falls, and as it falls, a mist of dust rises over the whole room, the floor is perforated, the pieces of wood are scattered everywhere , just like the two combatants, on getting up the adventurer could not see or hear much, he has a headache, his skull must have hit one of the pieces of furniture in the house, he gets up not without stumbling, he can't keep his balance, he had to stand on the bed which knocked him out. Gradually he regains his hearing, which allowed him to hear the powerful sword strokes that resonate in this dilapidated dirty, his vision is no longer cloudy, and when he raised his head, a huge emerald shield in the middle advances at an incredible speed in his direction, he hardly had time to react because this one found himself projected through the wall of the small house sounded again.
The adventurer got up, his back is in a terrible state, and his leg is bloody, he can only crawl towards his weapon which is detached from his belt. The woods are quite calm, there is only the echo of the fight of the small house which resonates in this infinite void, dark and terrifying. The adventurer shudders, he feels an immense cold through his whole body, he scans the desolate lands with his gaze. He sees only leafless trees, silver brambles and still arid land. Yet he feels a deep unease, an unjustifiable unease, as if something is watching him. Then everything happened very quickly, a cracking then a crushing, and the blood spurting everywhere, just like the guts, an abominable howl of pain resounded in the southern forest, then followed a deep and imposing voice:
"I would have warned you. »
At the highest peak in the universe. A circular room, made of hard wood, symbols travel around the pillars that erect this room, also made of wood. And everywhere you look, there are thrones. Large, small, medium, in gold, silver or sapphire, hundreds of thrones. And the adventurer standing in the middle of this huge building keeps his eyes fixed on the huge creature in front of him. A lizard with the build of a man, bluish scales and blood red eyes, his whole body is covered with scales, and a tail, made of the same material as the rest, wriggles behind him. His emotions are imperceptible, well, if he has emotions. The creature must be within two meters, it calmly approaches the adventurer, then says to him in the happiest tone he has ever heard:
«You are dead. Would you like to start over? »