@Kidd
Woah. It's not every day in a good for nothing bandits life that they find a house, unattended and full of shit to steal - today however was one of those 'not ever day' days. Leican was the first in and the last out, he made sure to check every corner and grimy crevice for loot. Most of it was junk, but then there was jewelry and scrolls and coins. Lucky day you'd think right? Yeah, Leican did. Up until a crazy magic bitch came and killed all his friends, and just when he was enjoying his awe issuing sword of whatever-the-fuck, she snuffs it out.
Now in the darkness he can make out her outline, slender but muscular with longish hair, dark skin from the south. A pan, fucking pan! He grips his sword tightly and they circle each other. Leican is ready to leap, it wouldn't take much effort on his part to jump and swing, but he knows that this whelp isn't all she seems. See he circles, and she circles, and they circle, in circles, for around 2 minutes. Both of them admiring the resentment of each others faces, the cold white of their eyes.
Then Leican died.
Thrown down to the ground, a spear point striking the mist bordered earth before his corpse does, a long ash pole protrudes out of his back, blood spilling and flooding from the gaping hole it has left. A slight rustling from behind his fallen body, a skeletal hand reaches through and brushes aside a stray twig, pushing through with purpose. A grey soldier, crumbling iron chest piece and chain mail gloves, an identical spear in its right hand, clasped coldly between it's white fingers. Black eyes darting from shadow to shade, a slight twitch attacking its left leg as it walks. It strides forward and stops, slowly a dead breath fills its rotting nostrils and it sniffs the air.
Woah. It's not every day in a good for nothing bandits life that they find a house, unattended and full of shit to steal - today however was one of those 'not ever day' days. Leican was the first in and the last out, he made sure to check every corner and grimy crevice for loot. Most of it was junk, but then there was jewelry and scrolls and coins. Lucky day you'd think right? Yeah, Leican did. Up until a crazy magic bitch came and killed all his friends, and just when he was enjoying his awe issuing sword of whatever-the-fuck, she snuffs it out.
Now in the darkness he can make out her outline, slender but muscular with longish hair, dark skin from the south. A pan, fucking pan! He grips his sword tightly and they circle each other. Leican is ready to leap, it wouldn't take much effort on his part to jump and swing, but he knows that this whelp isn't all she seems. See he circles, and she circles, and they circle, in circles, for around 2 minutes. Both of them admiring the resentment of each others faces, the cold white of their eyes.
Then Leican died.
Thrown down to the ground, a spear point striking the mist bordered earth before his corpse does, a long ash pole protrudes out of his back, blood spilling and flooding from the gaping hole it has left. A slight rustling from behind his fallen body, a skeletal hand reaches through and brushes aside a stray twig, pushing through with purpose. A grey soldier, crumbling iron chest piece and chain mail gloves, an identical spear in its right hand, clasped coldly between it's white fingers. Black eyes darting from shadow to shade, a slight twitch attacking its left leg as it walks. It strides forward and stops, slowly a dead breath fills its rotting nostrils and it sniffs the air.