Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-27603392-20140617030930/@comment-11588669-20140702035549

Echion blinked. Currently, he and a group of elves had crept up to the tresspasser's camp. And across the way, away from their position, an explosion just occured. Which had turned all of the tresspassers' attention away from the troop.

Not one to question good fortune, he crept up behind a human guard, and slit his throat. When he was a rookie, something so...dishonorable was to be shunned. Now, though, he took any advantage he could get. Surprise attacks, using the environment, it was all fair. War isn't honorable combat, a thousand and one synchronized duals going on at the same time. It's survival by any means necessary. And sometimes, even that's not enough.

His gladius punched through the armor of another guard. With a harsh shove, Echion threw him across the clearing. And with a small flourish, he returned to his normal stance.

"Hello, Varathian. Sorry to crash your little soiree, but you have a friend of mine. I believe you need to die, anyways."

The shade snarled and darted forward. Echion brought his shield up to block the charge. The shade slipped through the shield- but not the sword swing that came after it. The cut seared and burned, causing him to stumble backwards. The warrior chuckled, pushing aside his throbbing headache. His blade was edged in alchemical silver, a concoction that burned undead. Something he had done after he came across his first vampire.

"What's wrong, Varathian?" Echion taunted, settling into his stance again. "My blade sting you a bit?"