02-23-2017, 09:55 PM
Hoarse coughing rang out as Sheron-bhar wrenched himself from the wreckage of the ruined hall, his dwarfish frame riddled with streaks of dust and splintered stone. A dark gouge blotted out half of his face and dug cruelly through his iron helm and temple, blood oozing into his beard from the wound and twisting his face into a ghastly façade of what it had once been. Groping around the gloomy hall, he found his axe and took it into his hands, the familiar weight lending his bashed-in skull some equilibrium. One bright eye glistened from the opposite side of his face, darting to the side as he searched for his partners.
After a moment of searching he found Keldic, or the corpse that had once been Keldic, with his head crushed beneath a heavy wedge of rock. Grayish brain matter and shadowy blood seeped steadily out from under it, painting the ancient stone floors black in the darkness; his slack form was laid flat on his belly, limbs spread all akimbo and his neck bent sharply to the side. Sheron shifted forward to root through the dead dwarf’s pockets and the insides of his boots, coming up with a few hard pieces of gold. They were still warm against the coarse pads of his fingers, heated to body temperature. He stuffed them into his own pockets with gusto, teeth gritting at the pain lancing through his head and causing his brain to give a quick twinge every now and again.
Something like the sound of pebbles crunching under heavy feet met his ears. Sheron looked up, directly into the black eyes of a pale-faced Brennon.
“Ah, there yeh are,” Sheron said by way of greeting, shoving to his feet. His axe served as a makeshift walking stick, supporting his weight with its leather grips that fit his fingers like a dream. “Was beginnin’ ta think I’d lost both of yeh…”
Brennon chortled in amusement, but Sheron did not miss the way his fingers tightened around his own battle-axe, knuckles pinching against the handgrip until they were seared white. The other dwarf smiled a bedeviling smile, showing all his yellow-stained teeth, “Aye! And I’m sure yeh would’ve been mighty pleased with the coin yeh’d ‘ve found on my carcass, t’boot.”
Sheron shook his head, lips curling into a faint smile that said, ‘you know me all too well, my friend.’ “Ah, well, let’s just smoke a peace pipe and be done with it... the lad was too green, anyhow, all… whazzit called— buttery-fingers! Boy just wasn’t cut out for the life. Thought ‘is ma would be none too pleased that we’ve gone and let ‘im get killed, so I thought I’d bring ‘er a little something ta… ease ‘er troubles, so to speak.”
He cast a faux pitying look at the lumped body upon saying this. The empty pouches hanging from Keldic’s coat’s flaps hung conspicuously out like the sides of a flayed fish, flashing white against the dark stone; perhaps he should’ve tucked them back in?
“Ye don’t even know ‘is ma, Sheron.” Brennon said, only a faint wrinkle appearing between his brows to show his sour thoughts. That was the thing about Brennon— he was always very quiet about things. It was a cryptic adaptation to most situations that he’d carefully cultivated over time until it was hard to tell if he truly felt any emotions— which made it all but impossible for those who crossed him to evade or even expect his rage, simply because, to all reasonable appearances, it wasn’t in the cards to begin with.
In short, Brennon Yadrisson was one helluva snake in the grass.
Puffing up and with a clearly affronted look flashing in his eyes, Sheron-bhar scoffed. “Enough jawing, we have an astronomer ta find, and ah’ve got just the thing for it!” he said, shuffling through his coat pockets for something. Finally he pulled out a quaint little pot-shaped device, clearly made of burnished metal with various stick-like triggers sticking out of the holes rounding about its sides.
He punched the triggers in. A tiny metallic clinking sound began to echo in the hall. The device shuddered and spewed smoke, beginning to shriek like a hot tea kettle right as the two amoral dwarves swiftly vacated the area.
Tick-
tick- tick-
tick- tick- tick…
After a moment of searching he found Keldic, or the corpse that had once been Keldic, with his head crushed beneath a heavy wedge of rock. Grayish brain matter and shadowy blood seeped steadily out from under it, painting the ancient stone floors black in the darkness; his slack form was laid flat on his belly, limbs spread all akimbo and his neck bent sharply to the side. Sheron shifted forward to root through the dead dwarf’s pockets and the insides of his boots, coming up with a few hard pieces of gold. They were still warm against the coarse pads of his fingers, heated to body temperature. He stuffed them into his own pockets with gusto, teeth gritting at the pain lancing through his head and causing his brain to give a quick twinge every now and again.
Something like the sound of pebbles crunching under heavy feet met his ears. Sheron looked up, directly into the black eyes of a pale-faced Brennon.
“Ah, there yeh are,” Sheron said by way of greeting, shoving to his feet. His axe served as a makeshift walking stick, supporting his weight with its leather grips that fit his fingers like a dream. “Was beginnin’ ta think I’d lost both of yeh…”
Brennon chortled in amusement, but Sheron did not miss the way his fingers tightened around his own battle-axe, knuckles pinching against the handgrip until they were seared white. The other dwarf smiled a bedeviling smile, showing all his yellow-stained teeth, “Aye! And I’m sure yeh would’ve been mighty pleased with the coin yeh’d ‘ve found on my carcass, t’boot.”
Sheron shook his head, lips curling into a faint smile that said, ‘you know me all too well, my friend.’ “Ah, well, let’s just smoke a peace pipe and be done with it... the lad was too green, anyhow, all… whazzit called— buttery-fingers! Boy just wasn’t cut out for the life. Thought ‘is ma would be none too pleased that we’ve gone and let ‘im get killed, so I thought I’d bring ‘er a little something ta… ease ‘er troubles, so to speak.”
He cast a faux pitying look at the lumped body upon saying this. The empty pouches hanging from Keldic’s coat’s flaps hung conspicuously out like the sides of a flayed fish, flashing white against the dark stone; perhaps he should’ve tucked them back in?
“Ye don’t even know ‘is ma, Sheron.” Brennon said, only a faint wrinkle appearing between his brows to show his sour thoughts. That was the thing about Brennon— he was always very quiet about things. It was a cryptic adaptation to most situations that he’d carefully cultivated over time until it was hard to tell if he truly felt any emotions— which made it all but impossible for those who crossed him to evade or even expect his rage, simply because, to all reasonable appearances, it wasn’t in the cards to begin with.
In short, Brennon Yadrisson was one helluva snake in the grass.
Puffing up and with a clearly affronted look flashing in his eyes, Sheron-bhar scoffed. “Enough jawing, we have an astronomer ta find, and ah’ve got just the thing for it!” he said, shuffling through his coat pockets for something. Finally he pulled out a quaint little pot-shaped device, clearly made of burnished metal with various stick-like triggers sticking out of the holes rounding about its sides.
He punched the triggers in. A tiny metallic clinking sound began to echo in the hall. The device shuddered and spewed smoke, beginning to shriek like a hot tea kettle right as the two amoral dwarves swiftly vacated the area.
Tick-
tick- tick-
tick- tick- tick…
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Gamzee Makara Wrote:S’aight. After all, dogs have a tendency to motherfuckin’ bite.