The Stone

Macius had been raised from childhood for this role. Muscle and armour were his tools, broadsword was his weapon. He was the epitome of the human battering ram, and subtlety was far removed from his approach to... anything, really.

As he entered the clearing, the green grass rustling in the wind, the clear water singing a tiny song in counterpoint to the birds hiding in the leaves, he paid no attention to the beauty of the scene. His mighty warhorse Endelion crushed spring flowers under its hooves, turning even ground into a mess of upturned soil. At the center of the zone was a pool of crystalline water, surrounded by eerie marble arches and unnaturally large gemstones. In the pool, though, played naiads, naked and adorable.