"Do you see, Outsider? I had no need for your interference."
The Elezen's smile sickened Berrod into an internal fury. He choked back the swell of profane retorts that rose in his throat like bile. A good hard fist to the fellow's pale, slim and smug face would bring so much satisfaction...but also so many consequences. Instead, the red-haired Highlander nodded in painfully terse agreement. "S'right," He mumbled. "Y'got the job done. It's dead."
Slowly, the Elezen looked up toward the grey sky. It was thick with clouds; the sun had not showed since Berrod's arrival. "It's cold," He commented quietly. The complaint was quite out of character, given that the slender armored knight took every opportunity to chastise Berrod on his incessant fussing about the unforgiving Coerthas winter. Berrod knew all too well that his cold had nothing to do with the snow. "We'll get ya near a warm fire an' then yer gonna be fine."
"You are, in every sense, an idiot," the Elezen groaned. Exasperation saturated his every word. "The only fire left for me is upon my funeral pyre. Honor me, pray -- do not take me for a fool in my last moments."
Berrod jerked back slightly as if he'd been slapped across the face. He had intended to comfort the knight until his moment had come, but he saw that it was not meant to be so. Who could blame the lanky bastard for calling him an idiot? There he was on his back in the snow, his middle in the locked jaws of a dead Aevis. His blood mixed with the dragon's and reddened the snow underneath them both. The smell of his entrails was sickening, and was bound to stick with Berrod long after that moment.Â
"Awright," Berrod murmured awkwardly, "Awright. Is there anything you want me ta do for ya?"
The poor Elezen could not manage a laugh in his condition, and so performed a strained hiss. "No service that I would ask of an outsider. My brothers are on their way here, they will find me, and they will attend me. Should you choose to regale them of my triumph...well, that is up to you. I can only hope that you do the tale justice."
It was always at that point that Berrod awoke; not with a start, but with a vivid opening of his eyes. The room was dark, and warm. The desert outside was in the cold of night. Almost frantically he pawed at the body that laid next to him. Breathing. Alive -- and would continue to be alive for some time. There were no dragons here. No snow. No harrowing swarms of beasts that tore men to jelly. He was home. Long had he returned from Coerthas.
And he would never go back.
The Elezen's smile sickened Berrod into an internal fury. He choked back the swell of profane retorts that rose in his throat like bile. A good hard fist to the fellow's pale, slim and smug face would bring so much satisfaction...but also so many consequences. Instead, the red-haired Highlander nodded in painfully terse agreement. "S'right," He mumbled. "Y'got the job done. It's dead."
Slowly, the Elezen looked up toward the grey sky. It was thick with clouds; the sun had not showed since Berrod's arrival. "It's cold," He commented quietly. The complaint was quite out of character, given that the slender armored knight took every opportunity to chastise Berrod on his incessant fussing about the unforgiving Coerthas winter. Berrod knew all too well that his cold had nothing to do with the snow. "We'll get ya near a warm fire an' then yer gonna be fine."
"You are, in every sense, an idiot," the Elezen groaned. Exasperation saturated his every word. "The only fire left for me is upon my funeral pyre. Honor me, pray -- do not take me for a fool in my last moments."
Berrod jerked back slightly as if he'd been slapped across the face. He had intended to comfort the knight until his moment had come, but he saw that it was not meant to be so. Who could blame the lanky bastard for calling him an idiot? There he was on his back in the snow, his middle in the locked jaws of a dead Aevis. His blood mixed with the dragon's and reddened the snow underneath them both. The smell of his entrails was sickening, and was bound to stick with Berrod long after that moment.Â
"Awright," Berrod murmured awkwardly, "Awright. Is there anything you want me ta do for ya?"
The poor Elezen could not manage a laugh in his condition, and so performed a strained hiss. "No service that I would ask of an outsider. My brothers are on their way here, they will find me, and they will attend me. Should you choose to regale them of my triumph...well, that is up to you. I can only hope that you do the tale justice."
It was always at that point that Berrod awoke; not with a start, but with a vivid opening of his eyes. The room was dark, and warm. The desert outside was in the cold of night. Almost frantically he pawed at the body that laid next to him. Breathing. Alive -- and would continue to be alive for some time. There were no dragons here. No snow. No harrowing swarms of beasts that tore men to jelly. He was home. Long had he returned from Coerthas.
And he would never go back.
![[Image: tumblr_ojgu7zoaag1robwlio1_540.png]](https://68.media.tumblr.com/80be4033cdf57fb6268473ef9ce37db6/tumblr_ojgu7zoaag1robwlio1_540.png)
