Corvin moved quietly through the trees, eyes scanning the dark. The runestone on his belt flickered – a trace of mana. Just a spark, but enough. “Spells always leave a trace.” Then he saw him – the mage he was hunting. A silhouette among the trees, aura flashing faintly. Corvin raised his crossbow, the bolt coated to paralyze and sedate, but not kill. “Quick. Clean.” He fired. The arrow hit the mage high in the chest, too close to the heart. “Damn!” Corvin cursed angrily.
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