Abegail slid into the passenger seat, struggling to catch her breath from the run. She clutched the sword tightly to her. There was no way anyone would be taking it from her until they had a place to hide it. She was grateful that the nazi's had left the jeeps but the bile rose in her throat as the fact that they had led them to the sword occurred to her.
Abegail's hands shook slightly as they held the sword. The adrenaline was pumping through her body. That had all been too close, and too many all at once. It was times like this that she wished she was at home in her mother's kitchen instead of running around the Irish countryside. The sword was almost vibrating in her hands. It wanted her to fight with it, it wanted her to pay the price of it's power. Abegail took a deep breath and ignoring the sword, turned to Bridget and Walter in the back. "Are ye alright? I'm sorry but I couldna just hand it over. Not now, they'd be unstopable."
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Snippet #1719542
located in Ireland (1944), a part of Search for the Mystical Warrior of Erin, one of the many universes on RPG.
Events that take place in this country.
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