Light and Steel - Kisgard and Morina Battle for Elmsreach скачать в хорошем качестве

Light and Steel - Kisgard and Morina Battle for Elmsreach

The battle at Elmsreach The moon over Elmsreach was a pale coin, half-shrouded by smoke. Once, that light had glimmered off marble spires and silver-tiled roofs — but now it only caught the broken edges of ruin. The city groaned beneath the weight of corruption: black tendrils pulsing in the cobblestones, ash drifting like snow, whispers rising from the shadows of every alley. At the western gate, Kisgard stood tall amid twenty of the bravest. His armor — dark steel trimmed in green — was battered but gleamed faintly under torchlight. The sigil of the Guardians shone upon his shield, a reminder of his lineage and the burden he carried as the youngest of the brothers. His breath steamed in the cold night as he looked to the woman beside him. Morina. Her golden hair caught the light of the fires burning beyond the gate, glowing like a crown. She was slim, yet her stance was strong — her staff pulsing with faint azure energy, runes gliding along its length. A short sword hung from her back, its hilt bound in white leather. Her eyes, bright and unflinching, met Kisgard’s. No words were needed. They had said their goodbyes before the march began. A distant roar split the silence. The gates trembled. “Ready yourselves!” Kisgard’s voice rang across the line — calm, deep, and resolute. The warriors raised their weapons as the first wave burst from the blackened streets: shadowbeasts, twisted remnants of men, their forms half flesh, half smoke. They poured forth in shrieking tides, claws raking the air, eyes burning with red hunger. Kisgard stepped forward. His shield slammed into the ground, the impact sending a shockwave of dust. The beasts hit him like a storm — but he held, braced behind the shield’s emerald glow. One creature lunged high; Kisgard’s sword flashed upward, cleaving through smoke and bone. Another came low; he kicked it back with brutal precision, then turned, slicing through its neck. “Left flank!” Morina called out. Her staff burned with light — then thunder cracked. A swirling vortex of lightning and wind tore down the street, hurling enemies into walls that shattered like glass. She moved like a dancer between spells, her hair whipping around her face, every gesture fluid and deliberate. When one beast broke through her line, she drew her short sword and spun, cutting its throat cleanly before driving her boot into its chest. Kisgard fought his way toward her, his sword singing as he cut through the chaos. When their backs met, the rhythm of battle changed. They fought as one body — his shield covering her flank, her magic sweeping aside those who threatened his. “Push forward!” he shouted. Together they advanced. Kisgard deflected a claw aimed for her heart; Morina’s staff struck the ground, sending up a pillar of flame that seared the beast to ash. He surged ahead, his shield bashing one creature aside, sword thrusting through another’s ribs. A spray of black blood hissed against the firelight. Through the din, Kisgard felt the pulse of her magic beside him — like the rhythm of his own heart. More creatures poured from the alleys — scores of them, then hundreds. Their howls filled the night. The other warriors fought valiantly, forming a crescent to hold the line, but the tide was endless. Kisgard raised his shield again, breathing hard, his muscles burning. “Morina,” he said quietly between blows, “we hold them here. No matter what.” She looked up at him, eyes shining with fierce devotion. “Until the end, Kisgard.” Lightning flared once more — brighter this time, crackling through the very clouds. Morina raised both hands, chanting ancient words. The sky above Elmsreach split open as a tempest of pure energy descended upon the street. Bolts struck the cobblestones, vaporizing a dozen creatures at once. Kisgard shielded her from the backlash, his body trembling from the force. The street glowed molten red. The shadows screamed. But the darkness reformed. For every fallen beast, two more crawled from the blackened fissures. “They’re regenerating!” one warrior shouted. Kisgard gritted his teeth. “Good. Let them come.” He turned, slamming his shield down to mark a new line. “Draw them further out! Daukk needs time!” The formation shifted — twenty warriors retreating in perfect coordination, blades flashing, shields overlapping. Morina covered their retreat with bursts of blinding light, her voice echoing in the storm she’d created. When her power began to wane, Kisgard took her hand and pulled her behind his shield just as another wave struck. The impact threw them both to the ground. Morina gasped — her staff cracked, runes dimming. Kisgard’s shield lay half buried in rubble. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to slow. The monsters circled, snarling. Kisgard reached for his sword, eyes locking with hers. “Stay with me.” “Always.”