Vandrael clutches his chest in agony and falls to the ground. Blood gushes out of the enormous hole in his chest and the knight slowly lifts himself to his feet. A mighty river of blood spills onto the ground, forming a long winding path for any tracker to follow. Vandrael walks closer and closer to Mordankell, unafraid of the dangers that may await him at his arrival. Stumbling every few steps and spewing blood from his mouth, the knight continues moving forward. With his magic blade at his side and his dear friend before him, Vandrael lays a bloody hand on his shoulder and says several words in an ancient tongue. Strength flows into the righteous side of him, forcing the darker side deeper into his soul. Then the knight falls beside Mordankell and lies still on the ground. Deep rasping breaths can be heard by all around him. How could he be alive after such a deadly and devestating blow?