second rune; death; video

[deadelfwalking]

 [When the feed starts, the netbook's camera shows you a view of the forest floor.  A deer carcass lies among the grass and twigs, and it's obvious that the poor thing did not have a clean death.  It's in the advanced stages of decomposition, even though the blood around its body is red and fresh.  The camera does not linger on this image for more than a few seconds; it pans upward, to show Koltira's face.

 He's standing over the deer, holding the device in one hand, holding Byfrost with the other.  Agony creases his expression: his jaw is clenched, his eyes narrowed, every muscle in his pale, sallow face is taut with pain.  The guttural growl of his voice occasionally rises in octave as he talks, as though something is beating the shit out of him from the inside.]

Were we brought here to fight for something, or to waste time reliving the past?  Send.  Us.  On.  A mission.

[He stabs the tree next to him with Byfrost, and the sword glows sickly green; the tree bark begins to decay rapidly, as though it's practically melting.  Diseased fumes pour out of the bark, forming a nasty miasma around Koltira's body.]

I need a battle. [he hisses, and blood trickles from the corner of his mouth as he bites down on the inside of his cheek.]  Now.

Comments

[healplz]

This isn't about you. It's for those you might harm.

[ His eyes narrow because, come on now, really. This waiting is killing him. Anticipation might actually be worse than pain. ]

I will attack first, if necessary.

[deadelfwalking]

Self-righteous fool.

[he picks up Byfrost with one hand and lunges, the other hand poised to strangle the fuck out of this guy. Because when you put meat in front of a starving wolf, he has no choice but to eat it.]

[healplz]

[ Though he's willing to be attacked, he doesn't plan on just standing there. He jerks back on instinct, but of course not quite quickly enough. Speed isn't his thing. He feels the hand close around his throat and grits his teeth, a heal prepared but not loosed. He may need to save all the magic he can, if Koltira is as violent as threatened. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[he pushes Ashraf down to the ground and straddles him, not easing his grip in the slightest as he does so. Ashraf's expression alone--the surprise, the clenched jaw--feeds the fire, but it's not enough; not nearly enough. Koltira drives Byfrost into the earth beside them, and the sword glows with an unearthly, dark purple light that washes over both of their bodies.

Growling, baring his knife-point canines, Koltira lifts his empty, armored hand. The black plate gauntlets have clawed tips, which dig deep gouges into Ashraf's bare chest. Koltira smiles horribly as blood wells from the wounds, driving the point of his index finger into Ashraf's hip, where the skin is thin and the bone is close.]

yep no icons for this. SIGH.

[healplz]

[ God, but he's glad he's taken off his robes for this. How many battles has he seen completely ruin them? And that was when stopping by the Prontera Church for a new set was still an option. He slams his eyes shut, fingers digging into the ground, and forces his mind to mundane things.

His robes might end up with sap on them, at worst— metal tearing skin— but that's better than blood. His pants may well be ruined, though— searing pain, spasming muscles— he should probably find a tailor, it's inevitable that he'll run into a battle without a chance to protect his robes.

A little while longer, is the thought he allows himself. Just a little more, and he'll heal himself. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira keeps one plated nail dug into Ashraf's hipbone, slowly flaying the skin, biting into the layer of muscle beneath. He releases his stranglehold, but that's largely because he wants to hear the man gasp and struggle, wants to hear the fruits of his labor. He rakes fresh lines of blood across Ashraf's throat, easily tearing the delicate skin, and then presses his thumb to the lacerations, forcing more blood to the surface.

He leans over, pressing his heavy, armored knee against Ashraf's stomach, and hisses in the priest's ear, low and rough with menace.]

I will tear you apart.

[healplz]

[ The first gasp is purely for air, but the second comes with a moan of pain. He's no stranger to pain, no, it's nearly part of his job description— but it's never been like this. That was the pain of battle, this is the agony of a personal tormentor.

He can taste blood in his mouth, wonders if he's bitten into his tongue, and oddly enough it's the coppery taste that pushes him across the line. He lifts a hand, gestures frantically, and the green, healing light pours across his body. Wounds mend, blood dries, energy replenishes. But that doesn't help the wounds still forced open, and the pain remains, even if lessened.

He forces his eyes open, makes himself stare up at Koltira. There's no sign of desperation, and no intent to escape; just a heavy patience. He knows it must end, and prays it will be soon. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[he murmurs gently.] Mm. Healing yourself? That's hardly fair.

[Koltira presses his palms flat on either side of Ashraf's body. A cold, bright blue glow envelops his hands, and moments later, chains coated in ice form around Ashraf's legs, arms, and neck, binding him completely in place. When this is done, Koltira pricks Ashraf's lower lip as he pushes his thumb into the priest's mouth. The spell flows forth, filling his body and brain with bone-deep chills, seeking to numb Ashraf's mind to the point that further spellcasting is difficult--if not impossible.]

[healplz]

[ No, he remembers this. The spell that had stopped him last time, when he less vulnerable, when he hadn't voluntarily put himself at Koltira's mercy—no. His eyes widen with the first real fear, and he struggles for as long as he's able. It isn't long, as it turns out. Soon it feels as if he can't even shiver.

He's shut his eyes again, and forces himself to test desperately at the limits of the spell nearly constantly. It can't last. None of this can last. The spell hadn't been permanent last time, and soon Ashraf will be able to move again—Koltira can't do that much damage in the meantime, surely.

So he settles to wait for the pain to begin again, ignoring everything from the thumb in his mouth to the icy chains over his body. Testing. Waiting. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[The fear, the struggle, the suffering--that's what this traitorous curse wants, that's what Koltira's plagued blood sings for. But it's not what Koltira wants, and, in truth, he's still been fighting against his actions the entire time. It's why he didn't simply impale Ashraf with Byfrost and watch him bleed out over the blade, or infect him with an agony-and-delirium inducing crypt fever.

He touches his forehead to Ashraf's chest, trembling. He must stop this. He must stop, even though it feels so good, ecstatic, even, and it's only reaching greater heights with each shudder of Ashraf's body. This was as the Lich King designed, how he controlled the people he forced into service and extinguished their sense of self. But he had a choice, goddammit.

Koltira takes hold of the ice chains, crushing them, destroying the spell, and they dissipate. He pulls away from Ashraf, still shaking violently. The glow from Byfrost diminishes, then blinks out.

Koltira sits, stares into the night sky, and does not move.]

[healplz]

[ He flinches involuntarily at the touch against his chest, but— but that's not pain. Only a touch. It makes him open his eyes again, and he watches with a fearful hope. Is that all? Is he really done already? He's silent as the chains are shattered, silent as the feeling comes back to his numbed body.

Finally he sits up, rubbing his chest, and casts a final heal over himself to mend the smaller wounds. He looks, for once, smaller than the tall, stern, solemn priest usually presented. He looks like a young man, not a day over 25, inexperienced and shaken.

He glances over to Koltira, swallows, and forces himself to speak. ]

Has... has that helped?

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira lowers his head to meet the glance, as though coming out of a daze. Ashraf's blood is still on his gauntlets, and he wipes his hands furiously on the grass, not stopping until they're clean. Self-loathing fills him like bile, and it's evident in the slump of his shoulders, the drawn, tight expression on his face, and the absolute misery in his voice. He replies softly.]

As much as I will allow, yes.

[healplz]

[ He can read Koltira's posture well enough, and to anyone else he would offer a deeply sympathetic touch of the shoulder, squeeze of the upper arm, a few quiet words, something. To soothe the suffering of men and women is what Ashraf has devoted his life to.

But this, he recalls, arresting his hand in midair, is no man. This is only a creature, violent and bloodthirsty, as has just been thoroughly demonstrated for him. He drops his hand back to the grass, forcing his features back into that disapproving array that Koltira evokes from him. ]

Good. [ He's sounding stronger and more sure, and brushes his hair more neatly back into the binding at the nape of his neck as he stands. ] If this... need arises again, you will tell me.

[ And next time, his first move will be to silence Koltira and block his spellcasting. Thinking of that makes it easier to ignore how close he'd gotten to death tonight, and that he may have crossed that line if Koltira hadn't restrained himself. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[He sees that held-back hand, and he just shakes his head.]

Oh, Ashraf. You have no idea how little it takes to make a man like you into a man like me.

[he gets to his feet and picks up Byfrost, swinging the thing so that it's again latched safely onto his back.] I will not call on you again.

[He starts walking. Time to search for a lake.]

[healplz]

[ It's odd to hear his name from Koltira, and not just a title. It's almost disconcerting, really. But Ashraf firmly ignores it, snatches his robes off of the branch he'd found for them, and strides after Koltira as he pulls them on. ]

I must insist you do. And if not myself, then another healer. You cannot be allowed to turn that need onto any innocents here.

[deadelfwalking]

[Flippantly, as he keeps walking on.]

Worry not. I must simply build my tolerance; fortify myself against these pains. I have never needed to do so before.

[healplz]

You are more than welcome to build your tolerance.

[ That a little bitterly, because yeah, he's not eager to repeat this experience any time soon. He follows doggedly, now working on pulling the robe tight. ]

But if this happens again, you will not simply wait for an unprepared and unsuspecting victim to stumble into you.

[deadelfwalking]

[despite his efforts to respond casually, he's still pretty much roiling with self-hatred at what he did back there, and he's not really out of the woods with this pain thing yet, either. His long ears twitch and droop, pressing back against his head like an irritated cat.]

Are you my keeper now, priest?

[healplz]

[ Dammit, elf. The obvious annoyance only annoys Ashraf, and he hurries to draw even with him. (The quickly cast spell of agility doesn't hurt in that regard.) ]

If you present a threat to anyone in this land, then yes, you may consider me to be such.

[deadelfwalking]

I don't, thus you aren't, so run off now and find someone else to patronize, if you would. I'm sure there are other people here desperately in need of your blind bigotry, after all.

[pushing aside branches and brush as he goes deeper into the forest, his eyes ahead, searching.]

[healplz]

[ He has basically no idea where they are, or what Koltira's looking for, but Ashraf isn't about to abandon this conversation. He only narrows his eyes, ducking past a branch in Koltira's wake. ]

So you say, yet it was not so long ago you had your gauntlet buried in my flesh.

[deadelfwalking]

[CAN'T THEY JUST PRETEND THAT DIDN'T EVEN HAPPEN. He scowls and keeps staring straight ahead.]

You pushed me, and you know it.

[healplz]

With very little difficulty. [ NO NEVER, at least not in the face of an argument like this! ]

And what will you do when some hotheaded youth encounters you at the wrong time, with none of my healing skill?

[deadelfwalking]

[keeps walking.] Little? Little. I begged you to leave! I gave you endless opportunities. And you -- you took off your robe. [THIS CONVERSATION IS TERRIBLE and he hates it, also himself, also Ashraf. Luckily, what he's after is in sight--a large lake, its surface bright with moonlight. He moves quickly towards it, but adds--]

--and that is why I'm in the deep forest, where hotheaded youths are in short supply.

[healplz]

It was no pleasure of mine, I assure you!

[ He realizes he's shouting and takes a breath to calm himself. The appearance of the lake goes utterly unnoticed, though, with Koltira hogging all of his attention.

More quietly, but just as assured: ] I will not leave the safety of the people to something as easily overcome as seclusion. There is an entire city of people behind us, and people are inclined to wander.