05 July 2014

Merlin 3:43 “Lucre”

Merlin 3:43 “Lucre”

To close a chapter’s events, the bearer pregnant with urgency had struggled to cross the rough terrain to a boat on the bank of a gentle stream high atop turbulent rapid, a witch having had noticed when reaching it that a path from the catacombs leads to it in amenity.

In learning amongst the chaos that the wizard ushers the witch in departure, the vampire lordship ordered a hunter to follow them, with specific instructions that to follow and encourage the belief of intended malice, but is to foremostly regard and protect the two delinquents in secrecy. If so, will have by such a hold to payment in blood money specifically, a phrase flippantly of uncertain meaning.

One of the arbiter witch’s minions, cheating death by her dealings, having made and take quite a many striations, stranded in the settling dusk of the dusk racing even upward from horizons to mountain peaks, there from the mountain’s bright side. In view of the dying dusk below the opaque silhouette of the summit, the henchman unleashed with superhuman strength, a spear to puncture the watercraft or the witch or the wizard.

The utmost pain intended to proximity, a danger by the lashing, a tone innate a weapon then soon in crashing, in the second before it would strike, their vampire follower turned and struck the flying spear aside, the pitcher knowing the aptitude and consequence had rushed to end the vampire, but was in good measure inept at doing so.

The vampire nearly sacrificed the ruffian, by sword to heart the point downward but not thru him, pulling the bloodied sword that he might look into the blackness where a soul would be, falling autumnally as the tracker collected the spear.

A broken javelin was lifted and lofted halfheartedly, to as possibly had could, frightened the telltale wizard into birthing the boat, to wonder the luxury now and then.

With pass of hand, the vampire wiped his sword and cleaned the blood to drink from palm before it sheathed and followed in reluctant jest, without a raft, only his vestments to him in the current, his eyes above the night water.

@mjbanks