The city was drowning in chaos.
Adventurers and knights, bloodied, exhausted were getting pushed back into tight alleys, surrounded by undead that snarled and clawed from every direction.
Their weapons were shaking in their hands, hope slipping through their fingers.
A young archer, cornered, drew her last arrow, tears in her eyes.
"Fuck... not like that..."
Suddenly, a crackling boom.
A jagged streak of lightning burst down from the sky, twisting like a snake of light, weaving between the undead and exploding in a spectacular blast that turned them to ash.
Standing at the alley's entrance was a tall man in casual clothes, lightning sparking from his fingertips.
"Need a break? I'll take it from here," he said simply, his blue eyes gleaming under his golden mane.
Another street over, a group of warriors was forced against a crumbling wall, shields barely holding.
The undead surged, and then, the ground rippled.
