Snippet #2774992

"No, but I've read about it," M'Kama frowned. "Lost magic from a dead language. Should have remained buried...." M'Kama informed her, beginning to draw his blade, smoke emitting from it as soon as it was remotes from it's hilt. "Not all of these townspeople are maliscious of their own free will," he continued, drawing his blade fully, the metal glowing as if it were freshly forged.

He turned to Syra and grinned. "Best find a weapon." He plunged his blade into the earth and let the earth take care of the rest. The ground erupted and launched the old man backwards before he could lunge at them. He fell into the dirt, the water that was controlling him, cushioning his fall. "Try not to kill those not in control, if neccesary...." he advised the former thrall before suddenly taking off.