Ashen Word

A fierce wind rushed though the clearing, ripping off the brown edge-leaves of June-trees. The clearing itself is perched quite awkwardly on a steep, forest-covered plateau and was totally bare save a few patches of firefly blossoms where the blood of gods was spilled.

In the absolute center of the area there had been erected a temporary temple and healing post, which, after having lasted for countless centuries, was on the verge of being destroyed by the huge amount of force being channeled through it.

The ancient priest (the one that looked like an old, wrinkled piece of driftwood) grabbed the curved, sacrificial knife referred to by his aides as, "The Ashen Rider" and leaned over the body of his victim, a young tribal girl from the coastal cities. The flame from the torches gave the knife a bright red color that blended perfectly with the blood dripping from the priest?s neck as he plunged the dagger deep into his flesh. The spray of cursed blood covered the girl?s face, seeming to emit a half-transparent vapor.

Something foul and screaming was falling from the sky. Timoshka orders his two soldiers, Morii and Fallengah to cover his back, "Stay calm...I don?t like this any more than you do". He moves forward, stealthily, attempting to dispel the approaching dark from his mind. Pressing his loaded crossbow to the still-living priest?s forehead, he demands desperately: "What the hell is that! You never said anything about demons! Wait...why are you smiling!?"