06-27-2017, 07:26 PM
The presence named itself. Omni. It claimed to be the one responsible for his current prediction. Sylvan dared not speak in the presence of a godlike creature, that held the power to decide his further fate. And being able to live after experiencing certain death? No true warrior would ever pass such an opportunity. Even if this world is completely different, darkness is the same everywhere. And no matter the circumstances, a warriors duty must be fulfilled to the very end. And death is no excuse to shrink from your duties.
Ever found yourself weak enough not to able to break you fall from a small height? Sylvan rarely found himself in situation like that after he turned thirty. Arriving back at the material plane resulted in a much more substantial reminder of the reason for his death. The pain, even though he was no longer burning alive, still lingered in his muscles memory. This unfavorable mental condition had to be addressed first. Calling upon the ancient knowledge, passed unto him during his time as a student of Orden Ogan, wolf quietly chanted under his breath the mantras of mental fortitude. It is in this state, still on his knees on the floor of wherever it was, that Sylvan was approached by someone else. His ears turned in the direction of a voice, expressing concern for his well being. Not sensing immediate danger from the sincere tone of the one asking, Sylvan turned his head in the direction of the speaker. The sight in front of him made him react on an instinctual level to something completely unknown. Overcoming the feeling of pain in his limbs, wolf's body moved to position him in a battle ready stance, hands hovering over the handles of his swords. Yet, his eyes searched the figure, trying to assess the immediate danger of the stranger. Not seeing any weapons on it, the black wolf relaxed a bit and lowered his hands along his sides. - I be fine, stranger. - It was an interesting fact that he seemed to be able to understand the creatures speech and even talk back to it. - Do forgive my rudeness, but thou art furless. What race does thou belong to?
Ever found yourself weak enough not to able to break you fall from a small height? Sylvan rarely found himself in situation like that after he turned thirty. Arriving back at the material plane resulted in a much more substantial reminder of the reason for his death. The pain, even though he was no longer burning alive, still lingered in his muscles memory. This unfavorable mental condition had to be addressed first. Calling upon the ancient knowledge, passed unto him during his time as a student of Orden Ogan, wolf quietly chanted under his breath the mantras of mental fortitude. It is in this state, still on his knees on the floor of wherever it was, that Sylvan was approached by someone else. His ears turned in the direction of a voice, expressing concern for his well being. Not sensing immediate danger from the sincere tone of the one asking, Sylvan turned his head in the direction of the speaker. The sight in front of him made him react on an instinctual level to something completely unknown. Overcoming the feeling of pain in his limbs, wolf's body moved to position him in a battle ready stance, hands hovering over the handles of his swords. Yet, his eyes searched the figure, trying to assess the immediate danger of the stranger. Not seeing any weapons on it, the black wolf relaxed a bit and lowered his hands along his sides. - I be fine, stranger. - It was an interesting fact that he seemed to be able to understand the creatures speech and even talk back to it. - Do forgive my rudeness, but thou art furless. What race does thou belong to?
A predator's heart
Knows no remorse
It lives for the hunt
Knows no remorse
It lives for the hunt
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