March 22, 2011 at 12:00 AM
Photo courtesy of Peter Griffin
The hunter galloped up the cobblestone, raising his repeating crossbow as Vissorouy fell away. As brambles swept over the hill, he squeezed off three successive bursts. Arrows whirred through the air and erupted, incinerating the thorny tangles, and flattening the hill. Dirt and thorns flew high into the air, blood spurting out the broken vines. While the brambles smoldered, Lawson veered off, thundering up the path, and snaking around the flank.
As he whipped around the bend, the hunter unleashed a second volley. Silver needles arced into the valley, detonating one after another, and severing the lines extending from the forest. Blackened tendrils flailed, desperate to shake the flames from them and rethread with the core.