Fang emerged slowly from the surgeons tent. A long bloodied arrow hung from her hand...the doubled headed prongs of the Orcs of the Grey mist. She looked up slowly. A creature of few emotions, Lady Fang, today she looked pained. Jackal removed his dark hood, nodding as she spoke. "This pierced his armor, nothing has ever pierced that armor. It was given him by The Immortals..armor of his spirit. It missed his heart by barely an inch. As if he allowed it. Defying death for what he seeks. " Fangs eyes rose to meet the deep greens of Jackal. Her face strangely sad. Poised as if questioning her own words. Jackal nodded, his hand moving to her shoulder.. He spoke softly.."M'Lord would not wish death...he defies it...but i have seen his fire...what lies beyond this mountain...it drives him...drives him to reckless madness...i fear it..."...his words are cut short. The guards stand at attention, a flap folda back. A large man appears, a bandage rapped about his chest. The Slayer speaks, weakened, but still the drive,"So i am mad my friends,?... I may well be...see that those words are etched upon my gravestone.." He turns...motioning for his sword....
5 years ago. October 6, 2018 at 3:48 PM