Hector- Steal

Hector struck out again with the lightning rod, aiming for the Werewolf’s belly. Drew twisted, catching it in the White Fist’s grasp. Whatever dark powers were at his old Boarlord friend’s disposal, Drew was instantly sure of one thing: the rod was the key. Wave after wave of terrible magick rolled over him, coming straight from the magister. The enchanted gauntlet flashed gray, its light quenched by a dark fire that poured out of Blackhand. Drew dropped to his knees, his own energy suddenly leeched from him through steel glove and lightning rod. The gray fur that coated his body receded, his muscles shrinking, all the power of the lycanthrope and the moon pouring out of him and into Blackhand. The magister snorted and squealed, tusks breaking from his pale, sweaty face as he laughed, body shifting, popping, and bursting with muscles as the Boar came to the fore.

B6 P6 C7