Neil Scobell

In the lost cliffs, the knights of Neil Scobell discovered a village of witches. The War of Ash, which had divided magic and faith for centuries, knew no mercy. Wooden houses blazed with torches, and the air rang with screams.

The Witch emerged from the main house. With a gentle wave of her hand, she extinguished the flames, but it was too late—the sisters lay lifeless. Neil Scobell fought his way toward her, his armor shining through the soot.

“I could kill you, rotten thing,” she snorted, clutching the black-bound book.

The knight frowned, pointing his runic sword at her. "Holy Knights are stronger. Our will is forged in prayer!"

“Witchcraft is stronger,” she retorted.

He stepped forward: “Magic is not stronger than a knight!”

She smirked in response and threw the heavy tome at his face. The blow struck his helmet, causing the knight to stagger and fall over the cliff.

"You bastard! Where's the magic?!" his furious cry came from below.

She stood on the edge, peering into the smoke. Victory was bitter and fleeting in a war where no one was left right.