Bran's strike has provided an opening, the moment of opportunity needed for action.
A burst of the Light's power pulses through the Dark's onslaught, as a carefully-crafted enchantment falls away -- to reveal that on Merriman's left arm is a plain golden shield, its burnished surface shimmering with magic that rises from it like heat haze on a blistering summer's day.
He can barely turn his head, not wanting to look away from the mass of the Dark anymore than he must, and his voice is hoarse from the strain as he calls out an urgent command to Will, two words in the Old Speech:
'SHIELD THEM!'
And then he moves forward, the shield half-raised, fighting every step of the way to put some kind of distance between himself and...everyone but the Dark.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-06-15 04:05 am (UTC)A burst of the Light's power pulses through the Dark's onslaught, as a carefully-crafted enchantment falls away -- to reveal that on Merriman's left arm is a plain golden shield, its burnished surface shimmering with magic that rises from it like heat haze on a blistering summer's day.
He can barely turn his head, not wanting to look away from the mass of the Dark anymore than he must, and his voice is hoarse from the strain as he calls out an urgent command to Will, two words in the Old Speech:
'SHIELD THEM!'
And then he moves forward, the shield half-raised, fighting every step of the way to put some kind of distance between himself and...everyone but the Dark.