The words Riven’s opponent spoke were rough and filled with intent to kill, though Riven thought the choice of insult rather odd. Still, the look of disgust on his enemy’s countenance illuminated by moonlight was more than enough to let Riven know he wouldn’t be given any rcy…which again only made the things he had to do easier for Riven to go through with.
But the bald man wasn’t done speaking. Or rather, the man was shouting due to the distance between them. He stepped forward to point at Riven with an accusatory posturing while chill winds rustled both n’s robes. “You probably have no idea what’s really going on here, do you? To think that I would be paired with these worthless fools. How was it that any of you got through the labyrinth to begin with? Has Chalgathi beco complacent in who he admits into his chosen? Was it not supposed to be us true cultists who received his graces?”
Riven gave his opponent across the grass a blank stare in return, only shifting slightly when the crisp night breeze blew hard enough to whip his cloak about. This…wasn’t going as Riven had expected. It appeared Baldy knew who Chalgathi was? That was weird. And a cult?
Riven knew he had cultist’s robes on, but he didn’t think that qualified as being a cult mber. This guy, though—he was actually claiming to be part of one? How intriguing.
The larger man angrily spat in Riven’s direction at the lack of reply and then scoffed in utter disgust. “You probably haven’t even figured out how to bring up your status page yet, have you? You probably never even experienced real magic before this; you’re probably one of those people who concentrated on your nine-to-five desk job instead of truly living and thriving in the gift that Elysium sent us as a divine sign of things to co. Pathetic. Utterly pathetic that I spent so much ti learning the ins and outs of it all, to be only one of a re ten within the cult’s ranks to make it to the last round. The rest of you are not deserving of this gift, are not deserving of such power in this new world. You all deserve nothing but death, and after having prepared for this mont with years of study to He slamd face-first into the ground, dropping his scythe and screaming in horrified pain as the temporarily summoned little minions clawed at his ankles and bit into his feet.
“SON OF A BITCH!”
Cursing and kicking at them, he managed to get one off just as he saw another miasmic bolt being shot his way. Unfortunately he didn’t have ti to dodge and took it to the shoulder, screaming even more loudly as a chunk of his deltoid was ripped out and fried in a spray of blood.
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