[Fucking demons. Fucking mages. Fucking snow and armies marching through and fucking Orlesians thinking they have the right to move in where they please. David's broken more than a few noses, fingers and jaws since trying to settle down out here in the mountains just trying to find some peace in the spreading chaos.
When the rock face he'd fled to crouch beneath had crumbled thanks to an explosion of magic overhead, he'd sworn our vividly and thrown himself out of the way, and down the path away from the group that all seemed to work together only in the loosest sense. It out him right into the path of the elf.
At least, he's assuming that the approaching spell-slinger is an elf. They're small and fast and making a concerted effort not to get cornered by more of those gods-damned stupid zealots that would sooner cut down anyone in their paths or else toss them into cages for trade. Probably to the Imperium.
Yeah, add 'vints to the list of people that need to fuck right off.
After dipping aside to let the screaming elf go past and maybe find the shadowed corner he'd been tucked into to recover, the huge grizzly bear looking man squares up in the middle of the rubble-clogged path.]
Alright, who th'fuck's that now?
[He shouts it loud enough to give the pursuing cultists pause, and barely hesitates to wait for an answer before striding up with his fist already flying with his weight behind it. It flattens one man, who rolls on the ground screaming and clutching his nose while the others move around him to converge on the man who was decidedly not their target, until just this moment.
Which meant he'd done his job. So it was time for him to go.
He snags the elf's arm as he turns back again to vault over upset terrain and back toward an enclosed clearing that had previously housed a tiny village. Before these arseholes had arrived.]
no subject
When the rock face he'd fled to crouch beneath had crumbled thanks to an explosion of magic overhead, he'd sworn our vividly and thrown himself out of the way, and down the path away from the group that all seemed to work together only in the loosest sense. It out him right into the path of the elf.
At least, he's assuming that the approaching spell-slinger is an elf. They're small and fast and making a concerted effort not to get cornered by more of those gods-damned stupid zealots that would sooner cut down anyone in their paths or else toss them into cages for trade. Probably to the Imperium.
Yeah, add 'vints to the list of people that need to fuck right off.
After dipping aside to let the screaming elf go past and maybe find the shadowed corner he'd been tucked into to recover, the huge grizzly bear looking man squares up in the middle of the rubble-clogged path.]
Alright, who th'fuck's that now?
[He shouts it loud enough to give the pursuing cultists pause, and barely hesitates to wait for an answer before striding up with his fist already flying with his weight behind it. It flattens one man, who rolls on the ground screaming and clutching his nose while the others move around him to converge on the man who was decidedly not their target, until just this moment.
Which meant he'd done his job. So it was time for him to go.
He snags the elf's arm as he turns back again to vault over upset terrain and back toward an enclosed clearing that had previously housed a tiny village. Before these arseholes had arrived.]
FUCK, shite fuck-shite-fuck-shite- move, kid, go!