Shadowgrange was dead. Donavich knew this in his heart even as it trembled from dawn til dusk. The town had never been a metropolis or even a center for the rallying forces of cathars and hunters that passed through the outland valleys, but time had looked upon the town with vindictive disdain. In the flickering candlelight of the barren church, he tried his very best to pray, calloused pale hands clutching a silvered collar with all of the faith he had left. But after enough time passes faith is not a shield anymore. It is a tether.

And he wasn’t sure how much he had left.

His blood was so close to the surface, beating beating beating feebly but steady below the skin. In the quiet luminescence he felt the wounds and marks across himself, scarred, scabbed, and open in varying states of healing. He hoped it would be enough. But the scratching, a devilish and constant needle through his thoughts told him it wasn’t. He need be a provider once more.

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Ismark Kolyanovich is a confidant man. The world was hung heavy on his strong shoulders since childhood, and many things have left him in shadows of fate and grandeur of others that he felt he had not deserved. But earning your own grandeur is a luxury to the free. And despite his stature and good looks, he is most certainly not free.

“I have faith Ireena.” he says, breaking the silence in the still and ravaged wooden room. The woman known as Ireena, deep red haired and dark skinned, stands opposing him as the sole other occupant of their once lavish quarters. “When was the last time we’ve had someone new?”

Dark eyes scowl at him in reply as she perches herself on the edge of the stripped countertop. He shakes his head, feeling the weight of the world in his tense neck. “I hope you’ll listen when they come back.” he says after what feels like hours deadlocked in stillness. “And if they don’t?” It’’s a sharp, immediate reply. Her still face and dead words fill the room as he tries to think of an answer. He doesn’t. And the day goes on, until it becomes night.

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MERLIN has conscripted the wastelanders into a massive quest. They must plunge into a world rife in tradition, jousting, and knightly valor. Only when the “evil” of MORDRED has been purged from LANCE-O’s will they be allowed to return to the real world.
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Amazingly enough, through life-threatening situations, teenage drama and angst, and supernatural power convergences, life goes on. Our heroes have recovered a bit, and while wounds – both physical and mental – are still being nursed and secrets are still being kept, life’s not that bad.

What this means, however, is that the greatest challenge of all still awaits: the High School Dance.

Can the kids survive their first brush with teenage romance? Will the punch remain un-spiked? And most importantly, can anyone actually dance?

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