the Rift


Heavy Metal[Zero]

Artorias Posts: 4
Deceased
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.2 :: 7
Tribs
#1
ARTORIAS



Where was it.

You had to find it. It was here somewhere. Had to be, unless it didn't cross with you... or a thief dared to take it. Oh, pray the fool that would dare to touch the blade of one of the Mad King's Knights, for should someone have stolen the treasure and you crossed their path... there would be blood. Well, so you hoped. Ever since you came here and were no longer there, you felt... weaker. Not thinner, nor the weakness of hunger or that of age. Merely... wearier. As if the great strength that had once filled your body to the brim diminished to a mere trickle, a miniscule pond. Was this too part of your curse?

Finally you felt the water at your hooves, the scent of godsblood still lingering in the area around the pond. Yes.. this was where it had happened, so your weapon simply had to be around here, or at least it's scent. Like the wolf of your ancestry you drop head, muzzle grazing the ground as you sorted out the various scents. Overwhelming was that of the new god's blood, and it was a grand distraction from your quest, enough so that you, quite literally, stumbled right over the very thing you had been seeking.

Metal clanged and clammered as you fell, sheathed legs pawing first at air, then soil as you quickly right yourself, back on your feet within moments. Gone may be your renowned strength, but gone not was your reflexes, the muscle memory stored, adapted to your permanent secondary skin. Once you recovered, you turned, head low as your muzzle grazed over the steel hilt of your greatsword.

At last. Like a viper you lunge, jaws clamping around the hilt, muscular neck straining as you raise your head and tear free your extra limb from the soil in an explosion of dirt and pebbles. Oh the sweet burn, the delicious weight! In a fluid move you twist, neck swinging the blade in a wide arc to bury it deep within the flesh of a nearby sapling. It took, and bit deep...

And there was pain.

Your neck twinged, crying out in protest, and you release the handle(lucky for the blade's edge it was stuck in the tree), stunned by this revelation. Gone was the strength to wield the heavy blade with fluidity and grace... Gone gone gone gone gone gone gone.

She was gone.

You could only stare in the sword's direction, stunned for the span of a few breaths before you grip the hilt once more. Every muscle in your body heaved, pulling, and it took more tugs than you would have liked for her to come free, and when she did it about knocked you over. Gently as you were able, you laid the blade you knew to be of beautiful make upon the ground, and hung your head.

Gone was your title

Gone was your power

And now gone was your weapon. Physically it may be there, but your ability to use it to it's full potential...

just wasn't.

"Speech"



Messages In This Thread
Heavy Metal[Zero] - by Artorias - 08-19-2015, 12:14 AM
RE: Heavy Metal[Zero] - by Zèklè - 08-21-2015, 12:33 AM

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