Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20151017130502/@comment-29559990-20151022095716

The breton in a nord's body didn't put him down. In fact, he dug the tip of the knife into his neck just a bit. It wasn't far enough to kill him, but it was far enough to draw blood.

"You lose either way..." He spat. "I kill him, the Lotnekov returns to oblivion, and in another 3 years, I'll have a more cooperative man with the power to take Eastmarch. I let him go, and I'll just break him once again. And either way, you'll have no scroll to defend you! I will not lose!"

"You already have," Vordel rasped, using up all of his strength to raise his leg up and swing it backwards. The kick landed directly in the groin, and Dalacon was forced to let go, doubling over in pain. Vordel dropped down into the snow, fading in and out of conciousness.

"Soultrap! Now!" Kazrris commanded, running foward with his swords drawn...

(I won't be on until at least 6:00 today. So about 3 hours after I normally get on. Apologies for the inconvenience :/)