Borak ducked out of the alley and raced down the street, his heart pounding and his blood burning. The grueling journey from the Abbey of Drellenor to Drisdak had sapped much of his strength and now he had a short supply of time. Some kind off uprising had started; the crowd he’d seen numbered in the hundreds, perhaps even in the thousands. All of them were armed, angry, and chanting threats against the guild and its wizards. Borak didn’t know what was behind the uprising; however, night had fallen and he knew that he’d never be able to get past that mob once it came down on the guild. He had to get there first.
The warrior rounded a corner in the street and breathed a sigh of relief. He could see the guild now, less than three hundred yards away. He took a large gulp of air and broke into a final sprint toward the gate. He’d be there in moments. Behind him another death chant arose, carried by a hundred voices on the wind. He only hoped the wizards were prepared.
Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin) Page 74