worgen warcraft

Noah started with one finger, sending his mana surging through the muscle fibers, and soon could lift it. He could still feel the headband trying to restrict him, but now he could push back. He did the same to his other fingers, soon gaining full control of his hand. The effort required was considerable, but this manner of controlling his mana was not dissimilar to how he could control his clone. Rather than something he would wear like a disguise, he simply had to think of his clone as something that existed within him, under his skin.

“If this wasn’t a big deal, you would just tell me. If it was good, you might even boast. The fact that you’re keeping this secret means you’re ashamed of it, or you fear my response. All the more reason I need to know what’s going on. So tell me, how is Galvin funding the war?”

But at that moment, a memory flashed through his mind, something Noah said to him after he lost his arm. ‘People don’t know how to fight someone with missing or prosthetic limbs. It throws them off balance, and he took advantage of that. No one expects to be kicked in the chest with a peg leg.’ He glanced at Ingram, focused entirely on the fall and keeping Roc restrained. From the look in his eyes, he was most worried about Roc’s free wing getting in the way or failing to pull away in time and crashing with him. For all of his focus, all of his determination, his guard was dropped entirely.