the Rift


Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT
Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod
Continuation of this thread: A Machine For Pigs

Death follows into your watery grave

"I know you."

These words, rasped by the Engineer, made such little sense to Torleik. I know you? Of course Urlik knew him! They had been aware of each other for the better part of a month - or more...however long this darkness had been prevalent. Was he making a comment about battle - how you learned a person's true nature through fighting him?

Likely not. That seemed too philosophical for Ulrik. Torleik doubted he ever thought that deeply. Casting a confused glance at the black and bronze stallion, Torleik chose not to speak until he had submerged himself up to his neck in the frigid Basin lake. A billion little slivers of pain shot through him like needles being forced into his flesh every time he moved; but, he knew this would help, so he did his best to stand still and let his nerves go numb.

The cloudlets of blood that bloomed around him in the clear water seemed far too gentle and silken in appearance for their cause to be violence and rent flesh. Torleik realized he could not stay in this water for long, not with the Basin as cold as it was. He could freeze to death. The hot springs would help with that...but gods, that would be painful. Still, also likely good for cleansing his open wounds. The cold was to rid his body of all the inflammation and anger that he could. Heat would kill any lurking sickness on his skin.

Heat always killed things.

"What do you mean, you know me?" Torleik finally demanded, weariness and a growing sense of subdued anger broiling in his chest. Ulrik had not conceded.

He had not won.

A certain acrid sort of judgement crept up Torleik's spine, settling itself at the back of his skull. Certainly when a male chose to augment his chances by using a metal, mechanical contraption... Torleik barely held back a sneer. Cowardly. Ulrik could not face him without help. He had lost, and there was shame in that - shame he would let run its course - but he had held his own against both the Engineer and his mechanized beast.

Who else could say the same?

Count yourself lucky, Ulrik. Without your magic, you would be nothing. The thought was bitter and venomous, and Torleik tried to push it away. Such thoughts could only harm the one who thought them, eating them from the inside. For now, Torleik would focus on what Ulrik thought he knew - which was apparently, in some new and profound way, the dual-horned stallion he had just battled.


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Messages In This Thread
Wake - by Torleik - 10-31-2013, 05:02 PM
RE: Wake - by Ulrik - 11-27-2013, 04:39 PM
RE: Wake - by Torleik - 12-05-2013, 03:32 PM
RE: Wake - by Ulrik - 03-26-2014, 12:40 PM
RE: Wake - by Torleik - 04-08-2014, 04:52 PM

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