Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20150722092936/@comment-5614539-20150724043733

Roggvir slept uneasily. Since escaping from prison, dark and dangerous nightmares had followed him, teasing him, driving him mad. They permeated hsi every sleeping hour. He didn't think they were nightmares, though. He knew what they really were. Memories.

He shook in anger as he touched the piece of fiery wood to the stack of cloth in the middle of the room. That two-faced whore'll never cross me again, or anyone else! he swore internally, fighting the waves of anger that told him to go in and rip their heads off.

The man and the girl would die tonight, he knew. But fire... It was the purest death. She had been... good... enough to deserve that.

She would burn, yes. But burn in clarity, and realisation, that the fire was her friend. And it would love her more tenderly than she had ever for Roggvir, a small kindness that he could do her.

Let the fire lap around her, savouring her, as it slowly dragged her into its ever loving and everlasting embrace.

He dropped the wood, and heard the beautiful sound of crackling fire behind him as he stepped out the door.

Roggvir rolled over in his sleep, batting at the air. His face was contorted in what seemed like agony.