Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-3507184-20140617035032/@comment-4964060-20140621010447

(Sol) As I break the neck of another Wyvern, I draw my attention to where I had left my comrades. I curse as I see the Dawnheart Rangers firing arrows and pointing their swords at Balial, while the necromancer commands a small army of undead and lost souls to his defense. I know what must be done to save my sorry band of companions from slaughtering themselves, and quickly draw an old tome I had been given by the loremaster of my Guild. I turn to the only page I had bookmarked, and began the ritual. Withdrawing a knife from my belt, I poke small holes into the tips of my fingers and thumb; drawing blood. I then plant my hand on the ground, leaving five blood stains before I begin to whisper the incantation I had memorized.

After muttering the words, a bright ball of light forms in the middle of the five blood marks. The light contorts itself until the outline of a giant wolf is created. The light fades, and I am greeted by a gigantic, red pelted wolf with eyes as bright as the stars. The summoning had been a success.

"Amarok," I command, pointing to my companions in the process. "Stop this fighting at once."