Mythica: The Iron Crown Page #2

Synopsis: When a team of unlikely heroes hijacks a steam-powered battle wagon, a daring young wizard (Marek) steals the final piece of the all-powerful Darkspore and embarks on a desperate quest to deliver the cursed artifact to the gods for safe keeping; but when they are caught in a death race between a ruthless team of elite mercenaries and a trinity of demons, Marek must learn to believe in herself before her friends are killed and the Darkspore is lost, to stop the evil necromancer (Szorlok) from uniting the Darkspore and flooding the living world with his legions of undead.
 
IMDB:
5.4
Year:
2016
93 min
114 Views


- Worth a try.

- Thanks very much.

- This isn't going well.

- Do you have any ideas?

- Hold them off!

- We're leaving.

- Go Marek, go!

- What were those things?

- I'd rather not know.

- And that's the other half.

You know, I like this team.

They're full of surprises.

- The wind is against us, Admiral.

- Patience, the wind is ever changing.

- Well, aside from nightmarish demons,

from an entirely different dimension,

I'd say that went rather well.

Also, unless anyone can boast

a number higher than seven,

I do believe I'm the winner.

Marek, you owe me a kiss.

Thane, 40 silver will do just fine.

- You didn't kill seven.

I killed six, you killed

three, maybe four.

- You're serious?

Three on the side, three

on the back, that's six.

One off the roof makes seven.

40 silver please

- He wasn't dead.

- His head hit the road full in the face.

- I saw him get up.

- Then he was twitching from death throes.

Marek, you owe me that

kiss, Thane, 40 silver.

- Thane's always been a man of his word.

- Are you calling me a liar?

- No, of course not.

But you are a very good thief.

Not what you would call an honest trade.

- Be that as it may, I will

pretend I didn't hear that.

- Marek, where are we going?

- Gojun said to take the Darkspore,

someplace where the

gods can watch over it.

- Uh-huh, so where are we going?

- Well he couldn't say, because

Szorlok was right there listening.

- Oh, hello.

I am so very sorry.

Our deepest apologies.

We've been very preoccupied.

- Bastard!

Some rescue!

When my father finds out

how ill-treated I've been.

Don't just sit there!

Untie me, you half-breed.

Disgusting, pointed devil ears.

You, peasant wench, go

get me something to drink

before my mouth turns to dust.

- Pardon me?

- Oh, fyke, get out of my

way, I'll do it myself.

What does that depraved ogres have

for a lady to drink around here?

- I think, that maybe we

got off on the wrong foot.

Let's start over, I'm Dagen, and you must.

- Don't you dare touch me,

you are lower than a dog.

- I could use a drink myself.

- Ha, that black crystal

really gave it a nasty kick.

- Black crystal, Dagen!

- You impudent peasant!

I will see to it that you.

- I didn't swallow, I didn't swallow,

I didn't swallow, I didn't swallow!

- What's happened to her?

- She's brain-dead, like the others.

- Yes, well in her case,

it's quite an improvement, isn't it?

Uh, Marek, Marek, it's,

she's looking at me.

Marek?

No, no

- It's the Darkspore, she's drawn to it.

She likes you.

- Of course, I mean females of all races,

and states of mind, are drawn to.

I mean she's not immune to all of this.

- It's adorable.

- What's taking so long?

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Jason Faller

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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