Sunday, October 18, 2015

The Drow die like anyone else.

Their situation was hopeless from the beginning. The hedge prevents escape on three sides - hawthorne is major magic-bane, I'm told - and our fire is concentrated on keeping them away from the Gate. Boxed in like they are, they can't even rush us; they'd be cut to pieces.

They die bravely, if that counts for anything after you're dead. Not one man retreats; a few tried to bring their bows into play early on, but all that meant was that we targeted the bowmen first. I'm going for mercy shots, one-hit kills; beside me, Raina is doing the same thing. Jack is like the fuckin' Terminator, but without the Schwarzeneggerian muscles. For all the emotion he displays, he might as well be playing eighteen holes of golf.

A very few of the remaining Drow make a break for it. Dragon burns two of them down in their tracks and Phoenix swoops down to snatch up a third, carries him high into the sky and ignites like a supernova.

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