《Dreams of the Aasimar Cleric》Blood Staining Marble Floors

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A dream,

You see bright flashes of black and white and then you find yourself in a large white marble room. A large floor covering runs up the length of the large rectangular room. Several large pillars made of the same white marble are dotted over the room holding up a large painted ceiling. While the ceiling itself appears to be carved in relief it is also painted in large scenes containing some scenes of everday life for a common person and also large battlefields arrayed with men and women in armor. The pillars too are carved in great detail and appear to be carved in the shapes of people standing on the shoulders of other people who are in turn standing on the shoulders of others.

There is noise coming from the far side of the room. Violence. A figure comes into view, being flung with great force the man comes crashing into the center of the room. He is dressing in metal armor with a purple half cloak and the accents and ties of his armor also being made of purple cloth.

Blood pours from this figure pooling out over the white marble floor, there is still more sounds of violence. Quickly coming into view is four more figures. Two of the men appear to be fending of the attacks of the woman while the third man stays behind the other two. She wields two medium length blades with a hook or curve on the tip. The two men fending her off are also wearing the same metal armor with purple accents as the man whose blood is still pooling on the floor. Each of them armed with a shield and spear while having carrying other weapons at thier sides. She is much quicker than them and only with their working together are they able to keep her at bay. That and the reach of the spears help them in their task. They are being pushed back as she continues to attack ferociously pounding into their shields with her swords.

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One lucky strike and she is able to get the hook of her blade around the edge of one of their tall shields and she starts to pull the shield towards her, the man will either have to let go of it or be pulled away from his companion to his certain doom. He hesitates just a second to long and as she pulls the shield towards her she slips the blade foward sliding along the top of the shield and into the neck of the man holding it up. Quickly withdrawing the blade and letting the man fall to his knees. The shield clatters to the ground as the man's hands go from his weapons and protection to his throat. In a vain attempt to stem the bleeding his gloved hands grasp desperately at his own neck. The third man dressed in a white robe who up till now carried no weapon reaches to the ground and picks up the fallen spear. The woman's who's face is now awash in the crimson spray of the first man's life, seems to bear a certain burning determination. She shows no sign of pain, or anger in this fight. She is wearing pieces of the same purple accented armor that the men were wearing, her hair tied tightly up behind her head in a small bun. She isn't wearing a helmet like the men in armor are.

When the third man in the rob motions quickly in her direction the only remaining man in armor rushes quickly at her and begins to shout. His spear leveled at her with deadly intent she barely seems to notice or react to his movement. It takes only a second and she quickly parries the spear with one of the blades with a twist of torso pushing the sharp point clear of its aim to miss her wide to one side. As one blade pushes the spear aside the other like the spokes of a wagon wheel comes whirling across following the first. The hooked point of it finds its mark in the side of the man's helmet piercing it. His arms fall slack to his sides and there is a resounding thud as his shield hits the floor. The woman works her arm back and forth a little in a kind of prying motion in an attempt to free the blade from what it has become inbeded in. The third man still holds the spear in his hand begins to shake visibly. His grey/white beard and all but receaded hair tells the age of this now near solitary figure. Once prying the blade free of its entrapment she levels it at the white robed man.

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