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lyriumscribed) wrote2012-10-02 11:06 pm
lyriumscribed) wrote2012-10-02 11:06 pm
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the dregs of humanity, down with its waste. fitting.
[ if one were to stop and ask him, how he got here, he would be at a loss of an answer; simply, he did not know, though he had more than half a sense to blame it, no doubt, on a mage.
it was a fight, and in the heat of battle - lithe movement flowing smoothly into lethal hits of a greatsword - he had not anticipated such creative retaliation from that damned human. it happened quickly, then. like a tear, a rip through the air as his blade impaled bones and flesh. immersed in the hated and unexplainable, it was like a rough shove. like he was thrown into the dark pit of the void and spat back out.
the situation was far more irritating than he anticipated from first glance. it was little comfort that the one responsible for it was nothing short of dead. be it his will, he would gladly kill that thing over and over.
and yet, wishing for such things did little to better the situation at hand; he was not in kirkwall, or anywhere near, for that matter. smells, sights, the very breath of this place felt foreign. though the feeling of disconnection was nothing new to a runaway slave, the looks he received were far more shocked than he'd ever witnessed before. looks that even made himbe quick enough to acquire a hooded robe - to cover the ears, the hair as white as first snow.
let alone his markings.
no. this place was strange; he traversed the stone columns, numb and nimble, feet padding over the cool rock as he stuck to the shadows - a nearly instinctive motion, one executed so well, hardly anyone took notice now, of the tall man in the hooded robe.
he turned, mind working, thinking, sharp green gaze searching for someone who might be able to tell him something about this place. barely noting the turn, he followed the wall of hand-laid stone, rounded a corner, and started once he raised his gaze again and nearly rushed into the petite girl in the otherwise uninhabited courtyard. ] Venhedis.
[ the curse rolled from his tongue, coiled and crude; pathetic, he thought, how at such a time he let his mind fall into contemplation at such a time.
eyes, questioning and demanding, first rose to the structure before him; a hold, by the looks of it. it was, certainly, his luck, he mused. with all the twists and turns he took, he certainly didn't want to find himself in the courtyard of the imposing structure. and the guards standing farther away, all armor and metal teeth, eyes peering from heavy helms.
but what was done was done, and he's turning his pinning gaze to the girl with locks as red as flame again. no doubt his height gives her the view of the markings lining his chin and neck, but the elf makes a motion to walk to the way he just emerged from as his tongue twists in feigned politeness. ]
Pardon me. I, [ a wretched beat. ] must've gotten lost.
it was a fight, and in the heat of battle - lithe movement flowing smoothly into lethal hits of a greatsword - he had not anticipated such creative retaliation from that damned human. it happened quickly, then. like a tear, a rip through the air as his blade impaled bones and flesh. immersed in the hated and unexplainable, it was like a rough shove. like he was thrown into the dark pit of the void and spat back out.
the situation was far more irritating than he anticipated from first glance. it was little comfort that the one responsible for it was nothing short of dead. be it his will, he would gladly kill that thing over and over.
and yet, wishing for such things did little to better the situation at hand; he was not in kirkwall, or anywhere near, for that matter. smells, sights, the very breath of this place felt foreign. though the feeling of disconnection was nothing new to a runaway slave, the looks he received were far more shocked than he'd ever witnessed before. looks that even made himbe quick enough to acquire a hooded robe - to cover the ears, the hair as white as first snow.
let alone his markings.
no. this place was strange; he traversed the stone columns, numb and nimble, feet padding over the cool rock as he stuck to the shadows - a nearly instinctive motion, one executed so well, hardly anyone took notice now, of the tall man in the hooded robe.
he turned, mind working, thinking, sharp green gaze searching for someone who might be able to tell him something about this place. barely noting the turn, he followed the wall of hand-laid stone, rounded a corner, and started once he raised his gaze again and nearly rushed into the petite girl in the otherwise uninhabited courtyard. ] Venhedis.
[ the curse rolled from his tongue, coiled and crude; pathetic, he thought, how at such a time he let his mind fall into contemplation at such a time.
eyes, questioning and demanding, first rose to the structure before him; a hold, by the looks of it. it was, certainly, his luck, he mused. with all the twists and turns he took, he certainly didn't want to find himself in the courtyard of the imposing structure. and the guards standing farther away, all armor and metal teeth, eyes peering from heavy helms.
but what was done was done, and he's turning his pinning gaze to the girl with locks as red as flame again. no doubt his height gives her the view of the markings lining his chin and neck, but the elf makes a motion to walk to the way he just emerged from as his tongue twists in feigned politeness. ]
Pardon me. I, [ a wretched beat. ] must've gotten lost.