How's That For Niceness?

Thousands of miles from Darkblorne kingdom, Idris had managed to slip away and avoid the wrath of the Phoenix Blood warriors. But his two comrades, Tiora and Zane, had not been so fortunate.

Tiora energy was spent and her wounds deep. She had stopped regenerating and was cornered by three Phoenix Blood warriors. Her back pressed against a smoldering tree, her eyes darted around for any escape. One of the warriors, a tall man with a sneer on his face and a blade wreathed in flames, stepped forward.

"End of the line, vampire," he growled. "Surrender, and we might make it quick."

Tiora spat on the ground, her fangs bared. "I'd rather die than kneel to a fire-breathing fool like you."

The warrior chuckled darkly. "Suit yourself." he thrust his blade forward, and Tiora's defiant scream was lost in the crackle of flames.