Borkka
"We will stay here for the night, and journey on come morning," You say. "Let's wait here for the sun to return."
Yornalla glares at you but offers no argument.
The three of you rest your legs by sitting on stumps and rocks in the nearby foliage. You stretch your legs out and stare up at the stars. Your ankle pops as you stretch and you feel a sudden burst of excruciating pain followed by sweet relief.
After some time, Alkar rises to his feet and walks stiffly over to Yornalla. You turn your head away from them, unable to bear any sign of affection the two may share. The gods have cursed you. First with the loss of Yornalla's heart, then with the loss of your village, and now with the ever present reminder of where Yornalla's heart lies.
You hear a gasp of alarm from the mouth of the woman you once loved... No that's not right. You still love her. Much though you'd like to deny it, if you didn't still love her seeing her with him would not prick at your heart the way it does.
You turn your head towards them at the sound of the choked gasp and witness what you at first believe is a loving embrace. Then you see her eyes, wide with fear and know what has happened.
Alkar fell asleep.
He is no longer Alkar, you tell yourself as you reach for your club. You get up and walk over to him. He is so intent on Yornalla that he doesn't notice your approach.
He is not Alkar, you tell yourself again as you swing in with the blunt side of your club. You can't help but feel some repressed satisfaction when your blow connects and the body of your biggest rival falls to the ground.
He scrambles to his feet with a clumsiness that is so unlike Alkar's graceful athleticism. You strike again; knocking him back to the cold, hard earth below.
You are on him before he has the chance to rise again, striking again and again with your club in a series of vicious blows that leave his head a mess of gore.
You feel Yornalla pull you away before you hear her cries. "No," she says, over and over again. "No, no, no, no, no." She is sobbing and hitting you in the chest with her fists. She falls to her knees and continues to proclaim her denial of the situation she just witnessed.
As you look into her tear rimmed eyes, you feel you heart swell as though it has been plunged into the depths of the ocean and was just wrung out to dry. You pull her to her feet and embrace her close, whispering soothing words into her ear. She resists at first, struggling to release herself from your arms, but eventually settles into choked sobs.
She knows why you did what you did. She understands why you had to kill Alkar. But understanding doesn't make any of this easy, and she curses you intermittently between her sobbing.
After a few hours of tears she bites her bottom lip and announces that she is ready to travel to Tor-Matu the moment day breaks. She seems to have an infinitely more concrete resolve to end the reign of the evil wizard known as Malkarus.
The two of you move farther down the trail, closer to Tor-Matu and farther from the blody remains of Alkar. You stop walking when the path reaches the tree line. Any farther and you would be in the clearing. You have a good view of the city from here.
She paces around alot during the night, often stopping to lean against a nearby tree and breaking down in tears. You watch all of this and do not move. You aren't sure if you should hold her or avoid her, given the role you played in Alkar's death.
Hours pass and the sky takes on a pre-sunrise glow. "It's time," You tell Yornalla, breaking her concentration on the darkness between the trees.
She looks through you to the city in the distance. "Good," she says, "I am ready."
The two of you begin again on your journey, a cold and opressive silence between you. Only your footsteps make any sort of sound. Even the birds are silent, giving the brief march an ominous feeling.
Your approach becomes far more cautious as you near the outskirts of the city. You and Yornalla press your backs to the cold brick of one of the smaller buildings. After some time listening for the presence of anyone other than yourselves, the two of you judge that it is safe, and begin walking down the street towards Malkarus' residence.
The streets are completely empty and completely silent save for your footsteps echoing off of the cobblestones. You take every step anticipating that it may be your last.
After a short walk through the cobbled streets you find yourself before the estate of Malkarus. The emptiness of the town behind you is an eerie backdrop to the anxiety you feel as you gaze at the imposing front door to the wizards' mansion.
"Should we knock?" Yornalla asks. At first you think she is serious, but when she barges past you and kicks on the door with all of her effort, you realise that she was mocking your inability to act. You're usually much better at picking up on sarcasm.
Yornalla kicks at the door a second time, but it does not budge. You set down your club and take a few steps back. Letting out a inhuman growl from deep in your chest you charge in at the oaken barrier and slam into it, knocking it off of it's hinges so that it stands diagonally in the frame.
A spearhead jabs out from the open spaces that you have made, cutting across your calf with a searing pain.
"Who goes there?" A voice from inside questions.
"I am Borkka of the village Madonn. I seek Malkarus the mage."
There is a bit of shuffling behind the door. A new, deeper voice sounds from the other side of the doorway.
"What would you have with him?" The voice asks.
"I would speak with him about the village of walking dreamers which he controls," You reply, trying not to let the animosity in your voice come accross.
After a little effort, the door is able to be removed. Pushing the tattered door aside is a large, barrel chested man with a two-day beard. He is nearly as tall as you are.
"You will help friend Godar repair the door first," says an older man in robes.
"Malkarus!" You say, spittle flying from between clenched teeth. You hear Yornalla step in behind you, notching an arrow. Godar tenses, and the two men behind the wizard ready thier own weapons; an axe and a hammer.
"Be calm," Malkarus says. "There is no need for such violence."
It looks like he is about to start talking. Admittedly, he does have a lot of exlpaining to do. But you'd rather just kill him and put an immediate end to his madness.
Yornalla glares at you but offers no argument.
The three of you rest your legs by sitting on stumps and rocks in the nearby foliage. You stretch your legs out and stare up at the stars. Your ankle pops as you stretch and you feel a sudden burst of excruciating pain followed by sweet relief.
After some time, Alkar rises to his feet and walks stiffly over to Yornalla. You turn your head away from them, unable to bear any sign of affection the two may share. The gods have cursed you. First with the loss of Yornalla's heart, then with the loss of your village, and now with the ever present reminder of where Yornalla's heart lies.
You hear a gasp of alarm from the mouth of the woman you once loved... No that's not right. You still love her. Much though you'd like to deny it, if you didn't still love her seeing her with him would not prick at your heart the way it does.
You turn your head towards them at the sound of the choked gasp and witness what you at first believe is a loving embrace. Then you see her eyes, wide with fear and know what has happened.
Alkar fell asleep.
He is no longer Alkar, you tell yourself as you reach for your club. You get up and walk over to him. He is so intent on Yornalla that he doesn't notice your approach.
He is not Alkar, you tell yourself again as you swing in with the blunt side of your club. You can't help but feel some repressed satisfaction when your blow connects and the body of your biggest rival falls to the ground.
He scrambles to his feet with a clumsiness that is so unlike Alkar's graceful athleticism. You strike again; knocking him back to the cold, hard earth below.
You are on him before he has the chance to rise again, striking again and again with your club in a series of vicious blows that leave his head a mess of gore.
You feel Yornalla pull you away before you hear her cries. "No," she says, over and over again. "No, no, no, no, no." She is sobbing and hitting you in the chest with her fists. She falls to her knees and continues to proclaim her denial of the situation she just witnessed.
As you look into her tear rimmed eyes, you feel you heart swell as though it has been plunged into the depths of the ocean and was just wrung out to dry. You pull her to her feet and embrace her close, whispering soothing words into her ear. She resists at first, struggling to release herself from your arms, but eventually settles into choked sobs.
She knows why you did what you did. She understands why you had to kill Alkar. But understanding doesn't make any of this easy, and she curses you intermittently between her sobbing.
After a few hours of tears she bites her bottom lip and announces that she is ready to travel to Tor-Matu the moment day breaks. She seems to have an infinitely more concrete resolve to end the reign of the evil wizard known as Malkarus.
The two of you move farther down the trail, closer to Tor-Matu and farther from the blody remains of Alkar. You stop walking when the path reaches the tree line. Any farther and you would be in the clearing. You have a good view of the city from here.
She paces around alot during the night, often stopping to lean against a nearby tree and breaking down in tears. You watch all of this and do not move. You aren't sure if you should hold her or avoid her, given the role you played in Alkar's death.
Hours pass and the sky takes on a pre-sunrise glow. "It's time," You tell Yornalla, breaking her concentration on the darkness between the trees.
She looks through you to the city in the distance. "Good," she says, "I am ready."
The two of you begin again on your journey, a cold and opressive silence between you. Only your footsteps make any sort of sound. Even the birds are silent, giving the brief march an ominous feeling.
Your approach becomes far more cautious as you near the outskirts of the city. You and Yornalla press your backs to the cold brick of one of the smaller buildings. After some time listening for the presence of anyone other than yourselves, the two of you judge that it is safe, and begin walking down the street towards Malkarus' residence.
The streets are completely empty and completely silent save for your footsteps echoing off of the cobblestones. You take every step anticipating that it may be your last.
After a short walk through the cobbled streets you find yourself before the estate of Malkarus. The emptiness of the town behind you is an eerie backdrop to the anxiety you feel as you gaze at the imposing front door to the wizards' mansion.
"Should we knock?" Yornalla asks. At first you think she is serious, but when she barges past you and kicks on the door with all of her effort, you realise that she was mocking your inability to act. You're usually much better at picking up on sarcasm.
Yornalla kicks at the door a second time, but it does not budge. You set down your club and take a few steps back. Letting out a inhuman growl from deep in your chest you charge in at the oaken barrier and slam into it, knocking it off of it's hinges so that it stands diagonally in the frame.
A spearhead jabs out from the open spaces that you have made, cutting across your calf with a searing pain.
"Who goes there?" A voice from inside questions.
"I am Borkka of the village Madonn. I seek Malkarus the mage."
There is a bit of shuffling behind the door. A new, deeper voice sounds from the other side of the doorway.
"What would you have with him?" The voice asks.
"I would speak with him about the village of walking dreamers which he controls," You reply, trying not to let the animosity in your voice come accross.
After a little effort, the door is able to be removed. Pushing the tattered door aside is a large, barrel chested man with a two-day beard. He is nearly as tall as you are.
"You will help friend Godar repair the door first," says an older man in robes.
"Malkarus!" You say, spittle flying from between clenched teeth. You hear Yornalla step in behind you, notching an arrow. Godar tenses, and the two men behind the wizard ready thier own weapons; an axe and a hammer.
"Be calm," Malkarus says. "There is no need for such violence."
It looks like he is about to start talking. Admittedly, he does have a lot of exlpaining to do. But you'd rather just kill him and put an immediate end to his madness.