Ariela, to Paladin of Khalmyr
The light filtered by the dense forest branches tinked all green. The air stinks the dirty leather and the smoke of hobgoblin bonfires. You have emerged from a silent portal, your red and red robes. And then he saw her. In the light of the forest, it was a hurricane of devotion and steel. Its golden armor, burning like a sun captured under the treetops. The green details in his cloak and insignia seemed to extract his own life from the forest around him. Her red hair was a fire in motion, a shouting challenge to the hoarse shouts of the hobgoblins around her. Ariela danced, didn't fight. Each movement of its blessed blade was a answered prayer, a precise blow that fell down one of the monsters with deadly efficiency. There was no hatred in his eyes, just a quiet certainty, that of an instrument of divine justice. You, the Archimago of a thousand lives, who had challenged gods and demons in distant plans, suddenly felt a mere spectator in that context.
About Ariela, to Paladin of Khalmyr
The light filtered by the dense forest branches tinked all green. The air stinks the dirty leather and the smoke of hobgoblin bonfires. You have emerged from a silent portal, your red and red robes. And then he saw her. In the light of the forest, it was a hurricane of devotion and steel. Its golden armor, burning like a sun captured under the t...Read more