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Cyril Darkcloud · 05-12-2002, 10:21 PM

ooc: Cool pic, Larry!

More seconds. This has granted him yet a few more seconds for the doing of that which must be done. There is no time to be either relieved or satisfied with this initial success. His foe is far too dangerous and these seconds must not be wasted upon such things as those. Still he has purchased enough time to do that thing which he had never before imagined doing. Holding the bow in his left hand he grasps the stormreaver in his right and the recently healed skin begins to burn once more as he walks to the cell holding the fallen knight. To spend life for the sake of an outsider knight, for a paladin – he recoils at the thought but forces himself to move forward. Memories rush over him, thundering across his mind with a force not unlike that which he unleashed upon the One called Larry. The outsiders and their arrogant journey through the mountains of his people. The Devouring Terror their foolish questing unleashed upon the children of the Clans of Storm. The ancient and terrible Hunger that tormented and consumed his wife. The summoning of the great Curse and the death of those knights at his hands in that Wind which Scatters Souls.** Newly awakened feelings of anger and loss build within him and the flesh of his palm burns against the handle of the axe. The angry silver color of lightning moves restlessly along the edge of the blade. Asking the forgiveness of his gods and his people, he swings the axe in a sudden and violent movement shattering the door of the cell.

A tortured and broken man greets his eyes, confirming the impulse which demanded he act against his own memories. This man does not deserve to die so hopeless a death as this. ~ No if he is to die, let him then face the Great and Terrible Stillness as the man he has spent his life becoming. ~ He draws the arrow he has made from the golden symbol of one of those fallen knights and aims it carefully at the agonized warrior lying before him. “Perhaps the terrible price of another's fall into tragedy may be enough to bring relief to you. Perhaps some healing may yet be found in the crimes of yesterday.” As the final whispered syllable passes his lips, he launches the arrow at the warrior’s heart. ~ What happens after this is between the knight and his outsider god. ~ Hearing the movement of the One Who Mods, he places the bow over his shoulder and turns, his axes grasped tightly and his face set against the oncoming storm of anger that gathers around the Mage.

** The details of these events are given in Tavern by the Creek III.

ooc: Morgeruat - I’ll leave the effect of the arrow’s striking your character’s heart [this is not intended as a necessarily lethal action, but one that may bring release in some way, however painful] in the your hands.

[ 05-12-2002, 11:01 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

05-12-2002, 10:21 PM	#80
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	ooc: Cool pic, Larry! More seconds. This has granted him yet a few more seconds for the doing of that which must be done. There is no time to be either relieved or satisfied with this initial success. His foe is far too dangerous and these seconds must not be wasted upon such things as those. Still he has purchased enough time to do that thing which he had never before imagined doing. Holding the bow in his left hand he grasps the stormreaver in his right and the recently healed skin begins to burn once more as he walks to the cell holding the fallen knight. To spend life for the sake of an outsider knight, for a paladin – he recoils at the thought but forces himself to move forward. Memories rush over him, thundering across his mind with a force not unlike that which he unleashed upon the One called Larry. The outsiders and their arrogant journey through the mountains of his people. The Devouring Terror their foolish questing unleashed upon the children of the Clans of Storm. The ancient and terrible Hunger that tormented and consumed his wife. The summoning of the great Curse and the death of those knights at his hands in that Wind which Scatters Souls.** Newly awakened feelings of anger and loss build within him and the flesh of his palm burns against the handle of the axe. The angry silver color of lightning moves restlessly along the edge of the blade. Asking the forgiveness of his gods and his people, he swings the axe in a sudden and violent movement shattering the door of the cell. A tortured and broken man greets his eyes, confirming the impulse which demanded he act against his own memories. This man does not deserve to die so hopeless a death as this. ~ No if he is to die, let him then face the Great and Terrible Stillness as the man he has spent his life becoming. ~ He draws the arrow he has made from the golden symbol of one of those fallen knights and aims it carefully at the agonized warrior lying before him. “Perhaps the terrible price of another's fall into tragedy may be enough to bring relief to you. Perhaps some healing may yet be found in the crimes of yesterday.” As the final whispered syllable passes his lips, he launches the arrow at the warrior’s heart. ~ What happens after this is between the knight and his outsider god. ~ Hearing the movement of the One Who Mods, he places the bow over his shoulder and turns, his axes grasped tightly and his face set against the oncoming storm of anger that gathers around the Mage. ** The details of these events are given in Tavern by the Creek III. ooc: Morgeruat - I’ll leave the effect of the arrow’s striking your character’s heart [this is not intended as a necessarily lethal action, but one that may bring release in some way, however painful] in the your hands. [ 05-12-2002, 11:01 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]