After awakening in an unfamiliar fantasy world, a Canadian trauma nurse allies with a mysterious elf king to save his world from the shadows that feast on its inhabitants.
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Death is no stranger to ER nurse Nessa. Little does she know she's going...
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"Dammit, they just keep coming!" An arrow flew from Enal's bow, hitting its mark with deadly accuracy. The darn simply vanished in a puff of smoke, making way for the next. Again, another arrow hit its mark, more smoke, and another came forward.
Maena drew her bow back, sighting down the arrow. "Aim for the taller ones. They command the small ones. Without them, the lesser ones will lose direction for a while." She released the arrow, and it flew right into the torso of one of the taller shadows. Its spindly body twisted and shuddered as its horned head tilted backwards with a bloodcurdling wail. The shadow seemed to dissolve around the arrow, dissipating until it was completely gone.
"There is no end to them," Ryal muttered, taking a breath as he loosed an arrow. "How much longer will your magic last, Maena?"
"Not much longer." Maena swallowed, taking a deep breath as she pulled the next arrow from her quiver. The crisp winter air carried a faint smell of ash, tainted by the nightmares. "Come on, Trystan," she muttered, letting another arrow loose.
"One is climbing!" Enal called, aiming her bow towards the black figure that had ascended the side of the tower. Its movements were quick and spiderlike, making it difficult for the tall forest elf to aim. Her chestnut eyes glinted in anger, and she took the shot.
It's missed.
"Dammit!" she hissed, reloading the bow and aiming again.
This time, as she moved to aim, the creature burst into a puff of black smoke. Enal frowned, for her arrow was still firmly nocked into her bow. As the tendrils of black smoke dissipated, she saw an ornate black axe with a shimmering obsidian blade imbedded deeply into the side of the tower.
As more of the creatures scaled the towers, more axes flew into them, hitting them with a resounding thud.
"What?" Ryal lowered his bow, scanning the battlefield for the origin of the weapons.
Just behind the line of darns, he sensed movement. The actions of these new figures were quick and deadly, and the surrounding darns were dispatched quickly. Upon closer inspection, the figures were unfamiliar elves with skin tones ranging from ivory and sand, to brown and black, and to olive and green, with hair of deep browns, mossy shades, and ebony. Earth hued leathers clung to their strong and muscled figures like a second skin, moving as they moved. They were incredible to watch, and Ryal followed their skilled movements with wonder as they sliced through the darns as though they were paper.
The Grynare.
"Thank the stars," Maena spoke breathlessly. "It's the Grynare."
"How is that possible?" Enal's eyes widened as she nocked another arrow, determined to aid the new arrivals in their onslaught. "The machine was broken. The message couldn't have travelled."
"I don't know." Maena shook her head, taking a shot at another climbing shadow. "Something must have worked. I can't see any other reason for them being here. No one has seen or heard from them in ages."
