Roland collected himself as best he could, regaining his senses in what seemed like an eternity. He blinked, his vision still hazy. He had to move. He needed to move. He felt for his sword, but he couldn't find it. The webbing that had gripped him has slid off his sword and gauntlet. Briefly, he tried to yank out the sword from the webbing, but he didn't have the time.
He noticed that the Dark Elf was busy gloating, chittering to Iseldis in her wicked voice that carried like a foul smell. Roland gave a quiet growl, growing not only tired physically but emotionally. He had never felt such an urge to end something else's life before. If he could take her out, he knew that the world would be better for it, and more importantly, Iseldis could be saved. Roland surged to his feet.
Savagely, quickly, Roland rushed at the witch. So busy was she in her monologue of torture that she didn't notice until he was already on top of her. Her spider-like legs gave her an advantage, and so he attacked her humanoid body. "You think humans are frail?" he asked her as his muscled arms wrapped around her neck, squeezing the air out of it. "By Eruvar, I will break you like a twig!" He roared and squeezed tighter, his biceps bulging as she began to thrash.
It was clear she was not used to being out of control of a situation, her eyes were wild and her arachnid legs kicked and tapped upon the stone. Roland was almost hopeful that this was going to work. That he would emerge the hero, and that all would turn out well. But as she thrashed, she raised her hands and a shadow substance appeared in her hands like a dagger. With desperate strength, she stabbed his arm and he cried out, feeling the hideous shadow inside him for but a second. He let go, hitting the ground.
The Dark Elf, her windpipe now free, hacked and coughed. If Roland didn't know any better, he would have thought she was embarrassed at being so helpless, even for a moment. "You wretched maggot!" she seethed, her horrible gaze falling upon him and black lightning crackling at her finger tips. The last thing he felt before he lost consciousness was a thousand thousand shards of shadow piercing his body.
@Luminosity
He noticed that the Dark Elf was busy gloating, chittering to Iseldis in her wicked voice that carried like a foul smell. Roland gave a quiet growl, growing not only tired physically but emotionally. He had never felt such an urge to end something else's life before. If he could take her out, he knew that the world would be better for it, and more importantly, Iseldis could be saved. Roland surged to his feet.
Savagely, quickly, Roland rushed at the witch. So busy was she in her monologue of torture that she didn't notice until he was already on top of her. Her spider-like legs gave her an advantage, and so he attacked her humanoid body. "You think humans are frail?" he asked her as his muscled arms wrapped around her neck, squeezing the air out of it. "By Eruvar, I will break you like a twig!" He roared and squeezed tighter, his biceps bulging as she began to thrash.
It was clear she was not used to being out of control of a situation, her eyes were wild and her arachnid legs kicked and tapped upon the stone. Roland was almost hopeful that this was going to work. That he would emerge the hero, and that all would turn out well. But as she thrashed, she raised her hands and a shadow substance appeared in her hands like a dagger. With desperate strength, she stabbed his arm and he cried out, feeling the hideous shadow inside him for but a second. He let go, hitting the ground.
The Dark Elf, her windpipe now free, hacked and coughed. If Roland didn't know any better, he would have thought she was embarrassed at being so helpless, even for a moment. "You wretched maggot!" she seethed, her horrible gaze falling upon him and black lightning crackling at her finger tips. The last thing he felt before he lost consciousness was a thousand thousand shards of shadow piercing his body.
@Luminosity