Modir's Fate - The colossus of Haltia

The colossus of Haltia

Opening his eyes, Lotacore looked the lich directly into his face, not showing any fear anymore. Not because of the vague threats, that it has given, nor because of the blade of Hollow Flame, that was right at his neck. At this point, something changed and even though he wanted desperately to live to tell the tale, he felt that his friends' survivals mattered more. All of whom were headed this way now. He did his dearest, to make the undead in front of him out, through the pouring rain. But with the one piece of knowledge that the two skeletons did not possess, he tried to look as far back as possible next, without raising suspicion, hoping Akarian wouldn't be brash this time and let the scene play out. But then again, could he really expect that of him? He had no more guarantees, that he was gonna survive this encounter. Be it the knight with a sword to his neck, the mumbling lich, or the crowd, to their left, many wanted him dead, in this moment.

He had to be able to give a warning to the others. If he just got a chance to blow his horn for even a moment, the mountain would be evacuated. It'd at least give everyone a chance to escape.

But now the elves, several feet to his left grew impatient. Brash demands for Lotacore's death overshadowed each other, in the impatient crowd, as the lich shifted his attention from the elf and skeleton infront of him to the elven clan, before stomping his staff into the ground, causing a massive shock wave and shutting all of them down. "I want to hear no more from you miserable mortals! Or this day will have been your last." He screamed over, pausing to glance at all their faces, left to right. "Do you believe you are just talking to another necromancer? That I am but a mage of death? I will teach all of you pathetic fools the meaning of fear." He then turned his head to Lotacore, who shuddered, with the confirmation of who was infront of him.

Shivering on the ground, he felt helpless now, more than ever. Would all of the people around him die now? The people of his hometown, strong friends he's met on his travels. Nothing could be done, if he didn't act quickly. "Undead..." the lich spoke, pointing his rotten finger at sir Hollow Flame, who slowly lowered his sword, giving Lotacore a chance to let his head sink down and shiver in the freezing rain. The skeleton nodded at the lich, raising his head and signaling him to speak up. "I cannot let you kill this miserable creature. As much as I would like that. I am afraid, your time has come to leave..."

Hollow Flame mustered the creature standing few feet away, considering his words, before bluntly responding. "Nah. I've got me own plans with the idiot. Ye can pry him from me dead hands!" after which he yanked Lotacore on his arm forcibly. "No, please!" the elf shouted loudly, finally ending his silent demeanor, suprising the undead knight, who now fixated his eyes on the lich, standing absolutely still. "He's a giant. Just do what he says, or everyone here is gonna die!" Lotacore blurted out in a panicked voice, barely coherent, as his terror overcame his common sense and he struggled uselessly, from Hollow Flame's tight grip.

The elves that were watching, now all eyed the screaming man in front of them, not understanding most of his words. Or how that human sized corpse could be a giant. Meanwhile the lich laughed a little, picking up the pace slowly and finally, loudly hollering to the sky, as he took his hood off, revealing his withered face. "That is right, boy. And in the thousand years I've layed low, I've met most disgusting mortals. But none have ever awoken this urge to rise up in me." He proudly proclaimed, in a controlled voice, unlike his yelling from before. Looking over at the increasingly uncomfortable elven clan, he continued, speaking to only them now. "But all of you... all of you, who would murder a child, you have raised. Do not believe I have forgotten about you..."