Between Axes and Spells

[Keele Zeibel]

He had been lost for eons in these stairs, evading animated armors throwing arrows at him, seeking the ghosts of thunder mages of old. Every creature's power came from his soul and if one was careful, he could extract it at the killing blow and bind it in a card, at which point a part of the creature's might was his to command. Even tough he knew the technique, it was hard for anyone to execute it. His arms were growing weary and numb by the magical energy that he almost constantly summoned in fight...

?????????? A blinding light pierced the dreams and brougth Melvin back to the streets of Alberta. He pushed himself up from the rough, stony floor. Young hands. The hands of a novice. He was just beginning his journey into the world and yet, he had this weird feeling of knowing it already. Souvenirs of legions of orcs, of killer turtles, of humanoid alligators crept from the back of his mind... or were they? Still, no time for daydreaming. The town militia had posted that herds of spores were slowing up trade, and Melvin was always on the look out for some easy zenny.

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