Author:
Sleav Shaitanovich
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Date Posted: 02:55:33 02/21/03 Fri
In reply to:
Jah
's message, "*grin*" on 10:41:18 02/20/03 Thu
~Remaining tense for a moment he slowly lays the axe to rest. Keeping his hand on the hilt of a katana he draws a small pennant and a pouch from his pack. He kneels and draws the sword, slowly drawing a red line across his palm. Like a serpent the sword is back in its sheath and he is opening the pouch with his free hand, laying its contents on the ground in front of him. He clenches his fist over a small bowl of an obsidian so dark it seemed to pale even the bruning sun overhead. He pours a brackish water into the bowl from a flask humming a chant in his flowing tenor. Suddenly runes which seemed not to have been there before flare a hellish red on the rim of the bowl. Slowly they pulse in unison with his eyes. Swiftly he holds his cut hand over the bowl and clenched his fist allowing a stream of blood to enter the bowl. The water begins to boil, the bowl growing ever darker, as if it wishes to suck all the light of the world. He grabs the shimmering pennant, holding it over the bowl, controling the darkness. His hand snakes out and he grabs a small demon which had come to watch, it wriggles, screeching in his hand, a bare framework of darkness and helfire. He complicates his tune humming louder and with a fine temulo. He breaks the demon in half with a snap, allowing its blood to flow into the bowl. With that he draws some complex signs in the air over it, drawing the liquid into a tight ball hovering below his hand. His gaze whips to the bowl, its darkness seeming to quail under his gaze. He upends his hand, allowing the dark ball to fall into his palm. He extends it to the wraith. Speaking once more in measured tones, his hand still on the hilt of his sword.~ Rub this on the cut, my blade will poison the soul of all who touch it carelessly. It will also heal the wound and numb it for a few hours. ~Using his free hand he returns the items to his pack, replacing the katana once he had picks up the axe again. Crouching and smiling once more he tosses the now dull prennant to the child.~ Here! A safer toy for your hands. ~returning his gaze to the mother, his eyes flare once more.~ I shall dine now, I have not done so for several months and I desire blood, would you care to be my hunting partner, perhaps your child could learn something too. ~His eyes sharp once more with the promise of spilt blood he awaits the answer ofdark shape of the dune top. Magnificent in her sharp contrast to the brillient red of the dunes and the dull drimson glow of the now setting sun. A promise of nightmare and torment, a cloud to be poisoned never by such fancies as silver linings.~
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