>>6022150But that was in the past.
"Soralisa!" You shout as you plunge your horse into the wall of creaking branches. "Away, away!" You strike with your torch-like arm, burning through the foliage and the roots. The shapes that you saw tailing you start to pick up pace as you push the horse forward.
"Soralisa!" You shout once again -- but sound does not carry well in a forest, especially so when it is this dense and thick. The branches you cannot burn scratch your arms, your torso, they catch briefly in the steel chain of your cameo which tugs against your neck--
"Not this one, abomination!" You growl, grasping in rage at the wooden talons that tried to take your greatest treasure, and they turn into withered black cinders. "I won't be hindered by you!" You shout again. The horse seems to understand your plight because it picks up pace again, and swing after swing of dancing golden light, so fast that it starts to make your head fell dizzy, you carve yourselves a path towards the spot where you heard Soralisa cry, which was...
... it's now coming from a spot behind you.
"<span class="mu-i">Starless Night,</span>" you curse gritting your teeth. The tree does not want to make you reach her in time, shifting the terrain from beneath your feet. You need a way to--
The night blooms gold.
Frail veils of gilded light peek through the foliage, making them shudder with the weight of their malignity. The lumbering corpses that have been following you tilt and get slowly pushed to the ground by the broiling waves of light, which are coming from behind you.
You turn and see it -- past the cover of the trees, like a spear of light aimed to pierce the stars -- a fiery spark of brightness is starting to raise towards the leaden cover of the clouds. It's so bright you can count the single curves and shades of them, miles above -- yet the light does not hurt your eyes.
It's far from over, though. You recognise this, you have seen Soralisa attempt it once before. And fail.
There are Sanctions so utterly majestic that you'd be consumed by them, like paper in a furnace. Blessings and Punishments so entwined you can't tell them apart anymore. Wanton, searing devastation.
"<span class="mu-i">Sanctione de la Effimera Corona,</span>" you mutter, falling to the Maduan dialect in your awe, as the glowing spark reaches higher and higher, a lazy golden comet. You don't have much time. "Put it down, Soralisa! Let it go, I'm coming to help!" You shout. Uselessly. "That stupid..."
You hold on to your breath. You turn, swift and thought, and throw yourself at the branches and creatures rising to meet you, to keep you away from the crying Soralisa, who's completing the oration, one word at a time. Your left arm seems to burn even brighter.
You are going to need it.
>Bo3: Roll1d100 + 17 against a DC of 80 (use your axe)>Bo3: Roll 1d100 + 37 against a DC of 80 (use your burning arm) 