The continued adventures of not Vikings
03-30-2018, 05:40 PM
As arrows soar in and out of Robs vision finding their marks among the ranks of peasant soldiers the Lich comes down to one knee so as to be closer to Rob who by now only has his head poking out of the pile. Without so much as an evil smirk or maniacal laugh the man says “A life is a shameful thing to waste. Unfortunately for me, I have already wasted one life on fleeting things like honor. Unfortunately for you, you will not have the chance I did.”
Suddenly a corpse falls to the ground next to Robillard with an arrow sticking out of his eye. The Lich turns his gaze to the dead woman and with his one hand plucks the arrow from the socket with eye still attached. A flick of the wrist sends the eye soaring through the air and the arrowhead is brought before Robillards left eye. Robillard, try as he might, cannot summon the strength to wrestle the hand holding the Rising Dawn free. With the same, apathetic expression, the Lich says “An eye for an eye leaves two men dead and me to feast on all the spoils.” With a single, fluid thrust, the Lich drives the arrowhead into Robillards left eye.
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Gwain, doing the inconceivable, the unbelievable, the completely insane, knocks on the door as Violemce takes position. Thistle, able to listen more closely thanks to Nibbs, here’s on the other side of the door a creaking sound and a slow but methodical shuffle towards the door. Shortly after the shuffling stops the door creaks open halfway to reveal a decrepit and ancient old man wearing a grey robe and a wooden pendent of Themis around his neck. Despite his aged body, the mans eyes practically glitter with whit and intelligence.
Beyond the man Gwain and Thistle can see a wooden chain in front of a fireplace with a small table next to it and an aged tomb upon it still open to the presumed page the man was reading. Utterly unremarkable for any detail the room feels out of place in a Lich fort save the human sized and shaped pile of moist mud in its center.
With haggard breaths the old man asks Gwain “May I help you, young sir?”
Suddenly a corpse falls to the ground next to Robillard with an arrow sticking out of his eye. The Lich turns his gaze to the dead woman and with his one hand plucks the arrow from the socket with eye still attached. A flick of the wrist sends the eye soaring through the air and the arrowhead is brought before Robillards left eye. Robillard, try as he might, cannot summon the strength to wrestle the hand holding the Rising Dawn free. With the same, apathetic expression, the Lich says “An eye for an eye leaves two men dead and me to feast on all the spoils.” With a single, fluid thrust, the Lich drives the arrowhead into Robillards left eye.
——————————————————————————
Gwain, doing the inconceivable, the unbelievable, the completely insane, knocks on the door as Violemce takes position. Thistle, able to listen more closely thanks to Nibbs, here’s on the other side of the door a creaking sound and a slow but methodical shuffle towards the door. Shortly after the shuffling stops the door creaks open halfway to reveal a decrepit and ancient old man wearing a grey robe and a wooden pendent of Themis around his neck. Despite his aged body, the mans eyes practically glitter with whit and intelligence.
Beyond the man Gwain and Thistle can see a wooden chain in front of a fireplace with a small table next to it and an aged tomb upon it still open to the presumed page the man was reading. Utterly unremarkable for any detail the room feels out of place in a Lich fort save the human sized and shaped pile of moist mud in its center.
With haggard breaths the old man asks Gwain “May I help you, young sir?”
