Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24123288-20150401175844/@comment-3293219-20150401223926

(I met a girl in Caaaaaarolinaaa...

She had a very nice v-*slap*

OW!)

Arrietty's dreams took her back to that night in the Bannered Mare, the intense heat, the hunger in Woody's eyes as he swung his blade at her, the destruction that was intentionally and unintentionally caused...

She killed him... She did something that she hadn't done in a long time and even then, there was such little involvement from her that it felt like an accident. She was always taught not to hurt her opponent, during her training, killing always felt wrong to her, like she'd failed...

It had to be done though; there was no way in hell that her Assailant could have lived an enviable existence. She probably did him a favour, by ending it for him and stopping him from feeling any more pain or succumbing to any more insanity...

She wondered how much of that was true and how much was her making excuses in her head...

-

Asgarne's heavy boot slowly dragged through the foliage of the Skyrim wilderness, his distant eyes stared out through the holes in his mask as he slowly reached up and felt his neck, feeling the line where it had been stitched back on and then fused with extreme heat. It looked horrendous but it did the trick, it felt somewhat stable, though he had lost the ability to turn his head and nobody would be able to overlook the fatal wounds on his throat that would have killed a normal man...

Despite his recent handicap, Asgarne tried to keep himself hopeful as he trudged the wilderness, echoes of kind laughter filled his head and he began to remember the gentle touch of his love as she grazed her delicate fingers across his, since, maggot eaten arms. He lay back in his tent, with nothing but a thin sheet to conceal themselves as they basked in the sunlight that broke through the doorway...

Her right hand gently grazed his once hairy chest as she stared meaningfully into his eyes, he wasn't sure if it was a real memory. It was every afternoon in that seemingly endless summer and it was none of them, it was what he thought of whenever he thought of his lost past. Their relationship wasn't purely physical but they were able to appreciate each other without speaking, Asgarne had a number of concubines and even the odd lover but nothing compared to this...

Every minute that he was torn away from his dark haired lover was torment; this whole experience had been like a nightmare that he could not wake up from. His own body rotting, cut, damaged to the point that he can only act like an animal to get what he needs...

Even if he could reason with these people, he saw no point, kindness was a virtue long since dead and they would probably exploit him, given the chance...

No, he just needed the amulet, that was all that he cared about as everything else in this rotten age, like the many ages that he had slumbered through was completely transitory. The Breton, who stole it was of no concern to him at this point either, he simply wished to rid this sky of stars and embrace oblivion once more...

"What? No I'm not concerned; I just don't want him to drop dead. No, I don't care if you do!"

This caused the Assailant to twitch as he slowly looked up and glared up ahead, with his fleshy eyes, slowly tilting his head....

This looks promising...

