** Could an undying love blossom in the ruins of a shattered world? **
And so the world of men was lost
and a new one, our world,
was born.
- Morrígan
Goddess of the Battle
of the Túatha Dé Danann -
4th cycle anno Bellum.
The Second World War...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Flee already, you Fools!"
With these words, his broad paws detached themselves from the dark stone, and the bright figure shot through the darkness like a lightning bolt. With a lion's agility and a trained warrior's strength, he pounced on the first approaching enemy.
He immediately felt the hardened stone skin as bodies collided. But even the solid stone skin of the gargoyles was no match for the Sidhe's fierce claws. A pained roar rose in the darkness as the sharp thorns of his claws sank into his opponent. Mercilessly, they left deep scratch marks on the ancient rock. His speed outstripped his opponent's strength, and the body beneath him shook under the force of the attack. He immediately used the moment of open defense to mercilessly ram his long, flashing fangs into the gargoyle's throat.
Usually, at this moment, he tasted the iron blood on his tongue and felt the warm juice seep through his lips into the bright fur around his jaws. But today, he was denied this satisfying feeling. After all, the stone cracked and crunched under the pressure of his jaws before cracks ran through the rock as if a hammer and chisel had chosen the most destructive spot. The claws desperately tried to strike at him - but it was too late.
With a rumble from his throat, he increased the pressure, and the stone broke apart at the cracks. The stone body immediately froze into a lifeless pile of rubble.
Just at that moment, a breeze brushed his fur. His black likeness shot past him like an arrow and pounced on the next onrushing pursuer. Even though Kaie might not be a match for him, it was still enough for the gargoyle.
A fog of stone dust and death enveloped them while his fur and that of his brother moved through the dull darkness in a dance of light and shadow. His claws twitched through the air and struck their target with deadly precision. The soundscape became a jumble of growls and roars, crunching stone and splashing water.
The Gargoyles were tough opponents in the truest sense of the word, but they were almost as sluggish as trolls. The Sith's speed was their decisive advantage, especially in the murky darkness.
The pairs of fearful eyes, still huddled together like startled rabbits, could barely follow their movements. Paralyzed with fear, they crouched, trembling in the mud, barely crawling a few inches forward, unable to take their eyes off the battle to decide their fate.
