Monster Luna Writes Her Own Destiny
One slammed his staff into the floor, the other twisted his body to create leverage.
“Don’t—!” the elder Draenor shouted, to no one in particular.
The first collision sounded—the rustle of fabric, a small clang. The hooded figure was dragged against the stone wall, the hood lifting halfway, enough to reveal a face adorned with tattoos: black lines curving from the temples to the jaw, runes connecting like roots. There was a faint pulse, like living ink beneath the skin. A black wizard. No need for debate.
The warrior on the left fastened rune cuffs to the wizard’s wrists; a small speck of white light pierced the darkness, then faded.
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