Member
Cu Chulainn
Zeroth"Hate tah break et to ya lass-" Anrak chuckled at Hilde as she complimented his gatecrashing, "Eye'm jus getting stahrted."
Drawing his sword and shield, the giant warrior fearlessly threw himself into the fray, carving his way through the masses of bandits. However, before he could get too far into the tide of bodies, Dorran had caught up to him; asking that he go free the girls trapped in cages in the middle of the camp.
"Ayem on et." Anrak nodded to the Chief as he fought his way toward the kidnapped girls. This was the first time he'd fought actual people since he'd sworn himself to this new life-- and hacked off his horns. He used to lose himself in the bloodshed he wreaked in his old life, any regret, mercy, or restraint washed away in the warm splash crimson, and the haze of euphoria that accompanied such brutality; the memories of battle blurring into something of a waking dream. The feeling was addictive, like an itch that wouldn't leave, and only got stronger.
But something was different this time.
There was no red haze. No head-tingling euphoria. Even the tug of bloodlust struggled to manifest. The towering warrior shuddered as he marched towards the cages, his sobered eyes scanning the battlefield. The Varuk warriors from Kalla, Hilde included seemed to revel in battle. It wasn't the addictive bloodlust that he'd fallen prey to-- but he found it slightly unsettling nonetheless. Even worse was Chihiro, how she danced her foes to the grave. To deny that the dance was indeed beautiful would be a lie; in fact, such beauty only served to make it all the more disturbing in Anrak's mind.
Everyone around him seemed to be enjoying themselves in one way or another... Except Anrak. As he tore away the door to the last cage, he began to wonder-- was this what he had looked like? To the people he killed? The people who witnessed him kill?
Maybe he was just unused to being so aware.
But he didn't have much time to dwell on this newfound perspective. A massive noise called him to attention-- Dorran the Chief of Kalla was on the ground. Dead at the feet of another large Varuk. The wild look in the bandit chief's eyes stirred a hatred in Anrak's heart. Seeing him stand over the broken body of the honorable man that had died reminded the half-beast of himself. Of who he used to be. The man he wanted to forget.
Anrak charged forward as the bandit chief raised his hammer a second time. Explosive energy tore through the air, causing the massive warrior to be thrown several steps back. The stumps of his horns burned. His skull tingled with excitement. A haze filled his vision. And a familiar sensation returned with a vengence.
The whites of Anrak's eyes turned crimson as blood vessels burst from strain. Saliva foamed at the edges of his mouth like that of a rabid beast-- and no less than five Varuk fought to restrain their ally that had suddenly lost all sense of reason....
Drawing his sword and shield, the giant warrior fearlessly threw himself into the fray, carving his way through the masses of bandits. However, before he could get too far into the tide of bodies, Dorran had caught up to him; asking that he go free the girls trapped in cages in the middle of the camp.
"Ayem on et." Anrak nodded to the Chief as he fought his way toward the kidnapped girls. This was the first time he'd fought actual people since he'd sworn himself to this new life-- and hacked off his horns. He used to lose himself in the bloodshed he wreaked in his old life, any regret, mercy, or restraint washed away in the warm splash crimson, and the haze of euphoria that accompanied such brutality; the memories of battle blurring into something of a waking dream. The feeling was addictive, like an itch that wouldn't leave, and only got stronger.
But something was different this time.
There was no red haze. No head-tingling euphoria. Even the tug of bloodlust struggled to manifest. The towering warrior shuddered as he marched towards the cages, his sobered eyes scanning the battlefield. The Varuk warriors from Kalla, Hilde included seemed to revel in battle. It wasn't the addictive bloodlust that he'd fallen prey to-- but he found it slightly unsettling nonetheless. Even worse was Chihiro, how she danced her foes to the grave. To deny that the dance was indeed beautiful would be a lie; in fact, such beauty only served to make it all the more disturbing in Anrak's mind.
Everyone around him seemed to be enjoying themselves in one way or another... Except Anrak. As he tore away the door to the last cage, he began to wonder-- was this what he had looked like? To the people he killed? The people who witnessed him kill?
Maybe he was just unused to being so aware.
But he didn't have much time to dwell on this newfound perspective. A massive noise called him to attention-- Dorran the Chief of Kalla was on the ground. Dead at the feet of another large Varuk. The wild look in the bandit chief's eyes stirred a hatred in Anrak's heart. Seeing him stand over the broken body of the honorable man that had died reminded the half-beast of himself. Of who he used to be. The man he wanted to forget.
Anrak charged forward as the bandit chief raised his hammer a second time. Explosive energy tore through the air, causing the massive warrior to be thrown several steps back. The stumps of his horns burned. His skull tingled with excitement. A haze filled his vision. And a familiar sensation returned with a vengence.
The whites of Anrak's eyes turned crimson as blood vessels burst from strain. Saliva foamed at the edges of his mouth like that of a rabid beast-- and no less than five Varuk fought to restrain their ally that had suddenly lost all sense of reason....
