Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20140514193748/@comment-5543592-20140521020101

Anaril barred his teeth and went to work. He drew his daggers and charged the oncoming wave of men. He took down his first but holding up an empty palm, curling his danger in his fingers, and letting a lightning bolt shoot forward. It struck the man in his bare chest, sending him flying backwards. Anaril spun, and buried both his daggers in the chest of a second. These men were no soldiers. They were zealous, untrained, idiots. But they wouldn't go down easy: there was some force driving them.