Excluir este projeto?
Tem certeza de que deseja excluir isto da Galeria? Esta operação não pode ser desfeita.
O seu projeto foi marcado, com sucesso, para exclusão. Aguarde até 24 horas para que ele desapareça de todos os resultados.
Sobre este projeto
Nethrir of the Dead, a terrible necromancer that had been causing turmoil in villages for the past month. That seemed to be enough for the Church to send me.
It didn't take long to locate him, all I needed to do was follow the stories and the evident carnage.
"Nethrir! Where is your army?! Am I to believe you were honorable enough to face me fairly in a duel?"
"Of course not!", he replied, "I'm probably the least honorable person I know!"
And with that, he started summoning his "army". It was at this point when I understood why it had taken a full month of attacking for him to make enough of a name for himself to get me involved. His army was nothing more than armed arms that stuck out of the dirt.
Still, I was well trained, and knew that no matter what, I shouldn't underestimate his powers. I fought the arms, and noticed that very few of them were strong. But their numbers were enough to cause me to sweat. All the while, Nethrir sat back and watched, no doubt thinking about what he would do with my armor and sword once he slew me.
But I was not to be slain that day, after taking care of the greater majority of the arms, I charged Nethrir. Who, being distracted with his daydreaming, was almost caught unaware of my attack. It was the fine quality of his sword that saved him. No doubt enchanted to withstand the strength of my torivorian steel.
I knew I had to finish him before the arms of the dead took out my legs. Luckily, Nethrir was a necromancer that relied too heavily on the power of his magic. And because of my skill and the fine quality of my blade, I was able to finish him with little difficulty. With their master dead, the arms disintegrated until all that was left were their swords.
The deed was done, the country was safe, and I was ready for a good nap.