Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-10197675-20131128185142/@comment-5735114-20131201210719

Tyranil, meanwhile, had been at his secret forge crafting another scythe. Fortunately, he still had a lot of ebony, and the spell needed to bring his scythe to the razor-sharp state he loved. As he was finishing up, about to corrupt it, he heard a disturbance. Quite a few, actually. By the time he had finished with his scythe, all of his prisoners had been freed. He liked this new scythe better. He'd made some of the handle barbed, in case someone tried to grab it from him again, and made some of the blade, a few inches from the tip, serrated. Anyone who crossed paths with this scythe would peramantly stop walking on paths altogether. Just as the small party of Nish, Eilonwyn, and C'laro approached the entrance, Tyranil teleported to them. He was well aware of the small ambush team behind him as well, he summoned an Elite Soldier to take care of them. He'd had trouble remembering the spell, he'd never used it before. The Soldier was more of a giant, a 7-foot tall towering sentient shadow armed with an almost equally long sword; anything that killed this monstrosity was ready to fight Tyranil as well. As it was marching towards the exit, hunched over in the tunnel, Tyranil slowly walked forwards towards the escapees, new scythe in hand. "Miss me?"