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  1. #1
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069

    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    But as I let my sadistic impulse run free - it cost me. I stopped paying attention to what the drider was doing, aside from its frantic attempts to back away from me as I drove my arm into its body. My hand and arm were buried almost up to my elbow at this point, and I could feel the hot, sticky flesh around my arm, and the warm rush of blood that was flowing down my side from the abomination’s injury. It was heady - exhilirating me in a way few things ever did. The way it squirmed and tried to get away as I flexed my hand, tearing and gouging at its insides brought a savage gleam to my eye. All that mattered to me right now was this - the pain I was inflicting on it.

    Which is why, when the damn thing stabbed me in the stomach, I was not aware, not ready to move, unable to dodge. One of its waving tendril arms had finally wriggled into a position to exact retribution upon me, and the drider did so readily. The thing gouged into my stomach, and I felt the stinger emerge from me back. Blood dribbled from my wound as my eyes went wide in agony. It had torn straight through my guts, and out through my back, but luckily had missed my spine so I wasn’t paralyzed.

    The two of us jumped away from each other, agony etched into our features. The burning in my stomach was hellish, and I could feel my head swim as bloodloss affected me. Damn it, damn it. I had gotten arrogant. This thing was a hunter, like me. Of course it could fight through pain. The thing hissed at me, and I snarled back.

    “Hah. you will die now, tainted one. You can’t heal from that.” Damn, it could still speak. But it was getting weaker, because the unnatural, brain jarring tone to its words was fainter, less prevalent. Of course, so was its voice in the first place. I shook my head, once. This was a nasty wound, extremely painful, and if I wasn’t careful, might have killed me. But on its own, if nothing else happened - I would heal, in time. I smirked - and saw the anger on the thing’s face. “No!” Ah, it realized I would heal. The black cloud washed out, over me - and for the first time, I could feel it affecting me. My gut burned, the edges of the injury stinging and hurting in a way I had never felt before. It felt like each and every nerve had been set on fire, dipped in acid, then frozen. It let out a wheezing, maniacal cackle - and I leaped back, snatching up the Saw-Spear. The movement sent a fresh wash of pain surging through my body, and it nearly sent me to my knees in agony.

    But I pushed through it, pushed on. I had to. If I died - then this thing would eat me. Then it would go after Ri. And my stupid Dawn-Girl would accept that with open fucking arms right now. I couldn’t let that happen.

    I.

    Could.

    Not.
    Cruel and brutal are the blades for the Beast
    It's time to Carve and Clatter and Cleave.

    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.

  2. #2
    Senior Member

    EXP: 7,350, Level: 3
    Level completed: 59%, EXP required for next Level: 1,650
    Level completed: 59%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,650


    The Huntsman's Avatar

    GP
    1,069

    Name
    Fil'ayn Kiljarden
    Age
    87
    Race
    Drow
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Alerar
    I had to admit I wasn't expecting it to begin laughing, a disgusting, twisted, warped sound that grated on my ears. Each laugh sent a fresh wave of its blood - or ichor perhaps, it was rather thick now that I had a moment to look closer - surging from each of its wounds.

    “Ha. I die here, you die tomorrow, tainted one. If you are all that is left of the Ar’tuel, then my poison is incurable. Only their blasted light can heal it once it has set. Ha, hahahhahaha-” its wheezing, warped laughter cut off as a gush of blood shot from its lips. I stared at it in shock. What? Was that - was that why the burning hadn't abated in my stomach? I gritted my teeth. Damn him. Damn this thing to hell.

    I knew an Ar’Tuel. Knew her well. Ri. There was no way I was telling this thing of her existence though - I didn't know if it was the only one of its kind, or if there was a legion of these spidery abominations lurking in the shadows, itching for any word from this one.

    “Then I die knowing you failed.” I forced myself to my feet, using the Saw-Spear as a crutch to push myself up. The creature’s black eyes swiveled to follow me as I rose, looming over its collapsed form. That moon-damned smile stretched across its lips, and I snared. It started to say something - to mock me one last time, to spout off some insult or something. I didn't let it.

    In one fluid motion I tore my blade from the ground and planted it into the abomination’s forehead with a cracking squelch. Its black eyes went wide, staring at the jagged damascus buried in its head. Then with a shudder, its face went slack, eyes going blank. I ripped the jagged weapon free, sending a slight shower of bone and viscera scattering onto the ground, and the creature collapsed fully, sinking down to the ground as the last vestiges of life left its rapidly cooling carcass.

    I sagged down, nearly falling back to the ground myself. Adrenaline had been what kept me going through the pain - adrenaline and sheer rage at the gall of the abomination, at its temerity to try to kill me, and Amari. With the threat dead, though… the burning pain in the hole in my stomach was nearly enough to make me black out. That was when something astonishing happened.

    The damn body began to dissolve into a black sludge. It was like it was decaying in accelerated time - its carapace cracked and splintered, thinning out and gaining holes all over. The fleshy bits that I could see sank inwards like a failed cake, turning to black goop at a rapid pace. Then the goop began eating away at what remained of the shell of the carapace, or the carapace also began to decay.

    Age. This thing had been preying upon Ar’Tuel to keep itself alive for who knows how long, and now that death had caught up to it, time was reclaiming what it had been cheated of. I was watching unknown centuries, eons perhaps, take their toll all at once, and it was a disgusting sight. Thankfully, the decay was so rapid that there was barely a whiff of the smell of rotten, fetid meat, before it was gone. Soon all that remained of the drider monstrosity was a black slick on the ground that looked like spilled oil, and a gritty black dust that blew away in the next errant gust of night air.

    Then I blinked, and I was at the gate. Lock torn, chain dangling loose and free. Cobble beneath my feet. Concerned voices rushing around me - a few screams. Lights, bright and glaring shone in my eyes, flickering and dancing. A hard mattress - someone had stripped me? Scratchy sheets on my skin, covered only by bandages around my midsection.

    Pain.

    Darkness.
    Cruel and brutal are the blades for the Beast
    It's time to Carve and Clatter and Cleave.

    A member of the NevCrew:
    Nevin: Thread count: please, don't try.
    Erik: Thread count: five or six. Maybe seven...
    Huntsman: seven. Maybe eight. Shhhhhhh.
    Telli' thread count: zero. I just can't get into writing the little hellion.

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