The Crimson

RP-related board archives from Act V forums.
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Toroic
Posts: 18
Character: Elric Faust

The Crimson

Post by Toroic » March 14th, 2019, 9:39 am

There was no sound but the wind and one man’s labored breathing.

As his vision returned to normal, Elric took stock. The faint scrape of metal on metal as he inspected his armor revealed no serious wounds and that his equipment was in good shape; it would be some time yet before repairs were needed.

In his childhood, he imagined a life of honorable combat, intricate swordplay, and glory. Graceful warriors sparring with skill and control.

The blood soaked nightmare around him could not be further from that imagination. Twisted forms lying torn and shattered, reeking of rot and bile.

One of them triggers an already fading memory:

a long dead arm lunging for living flesh, the satisfying crunch of bones breaking as a shield slams into the creature’s face, a feral growl and a mace pulping the head to ruin.

Elric had been accused of being slow, clumsy, ponderous, especially in his armor. The accusation stung but he couldn’t deny it was true. He favored heavy weapons with all of his strength behind each swing, and it had served him well. But it was not the graceful combat he had daydreamed of as a child. It was brutal. Efficient. Messy.

He looked over the corpses and felt satisfaction, but it was short-lived. The ice in his gut returned, as it always did. Like drums in his mind, fear of the Torment was relentless and he knew he wasn’t ready.

Elric had hoped a fresh start would bring new insight, that those at the fort would teach techniques to fight back without risking a fate worse than death. A cold sweat begins on his forehead as he ponders an inevitable end.

The snap of a twig causes him to spin and a massive misshapen fist crashes against the shield, but his arm holds firm. Elric’s strength does not fail him. The world makes sense again, and he feels the rage welling up in his soul.

He surrenders to it.

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