Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20151005194811/@comment-5543592-20151022020031

Aias just watched Sidion passively, but he heard.

Aias walked over to Blue's dream-frozen(?) form and picked her up. He'd leave Pierre for the worms. He then went off to his cells, leaving Cat behind...

Pierre groaned, lying flat on his back, his blood slowly pump out through the gash in his stomach.

The bandits had ignored him, leaving him for dead, and had gone about clearing out the area around the Atronach Forge.

Pierre looked down at his wound. It wasn't a gash. It was a gaping hole. He thought he saw organs. He dropped his head again with a shaky sigh. The pain hadn't hit in force. But it wouldn't.

He wasn't a healer. He had not means of fixing himself. He was going to die in some cave just because he'd been stupid enough to rescue Cat.

How had he not seen this coming. Well, he couldn't have seen another Son of Mehrunes Dagon coming. Fire was his key tool, and when fighting a foe who was also imprevious, he-

Pierre backpedalled his train of thought.

Fire.

He glanced down at the wound.

He could burn. Fire couldn't hurt him in anyway. He could be dropped in a vat of lava and he would survive. He knew that for a fact. It had happened. But... maybe...

He focused, thinking about not being quite as fire-proof as he was. He imagined he was like metal- he couldn't burn, just melt, that the fire would only change him, not harm.

He held his hand over his wound, not looking, and heated up a flame spell. After a few moments, he felt something trickling around the wound, like water. He glanced down.

He was melting.

Literally.

The skin around the wound began to liquify, shedding in a bizarre, molten way, and slid to the gap. Inside the wound, the rest of him also melted, sealing, making one big flesh bandage. It would was crude, very crude, and the wound would break if he pushed himself even a little, but it would stop the bleeding.

He'd cauterized a wound without cauterizing it. Pierre smiled to himself it finally sealed. The skin over and surrounding the wound was a bright, bright pink, like it had just peeled away.

He knew he probably looked awful- cuts covering his body, bruises on his face, holes in his armor. But now he felt like he had a chance.

He struggled to his feet, grimacing as he felt weight go onto his knee, and began to stealthily shuffle through the ruin.