Hunnic
Most loyal follower of the Lord of the Witch Isle, he is an open practitioner of the Art.
Book Excerpt
Hunnic had drawn his Vaerhan Blade at last. The sunlight behind him gilded the expanding edges as he slowly composed it. He did not take pleasure in war, but now felt the certain stirring of his blood, and the surging response from the crysalite. With an audible crackling, like a sudden drawing of sparkling breath, the Blade was filled with blue fire. In the air about him danced a million sparks of potential: a thing at once beautiful and frightening. Without the interference of conscious thought, he braced the weapon for the task at hand. It grew heavy with latent power.
The men around him, his sergeants and soldiers, had never seen such a display. Involuntarily they took a step backwards. There was a strange smell about, as of rock struck by a thunderbolt; the air was suddenly dry and warm, as if the moisture had been drawn from it.
