SWP :: First Contact

the Rift

SWP :: First Contact

Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354

Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT

Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod

#31

08-23-2015, 02:33 PM

Torleik the Bloodskald

The blood cries out

The land had been strange for so long now that when whatever powerful magic that held it fast in its stationary slumber finally broke, Torleik felt as though a considerable weight was suddenly dragged through his body. Like he'd suddenly been yanked forward through all the time he had unknowingly been absent from participating in. Confused at this feeling, and at the strange pull he felt calling him north, the Bloodskald shook his head, trying to think back on the days past.

What had he done?

What had anyone done?

Why could he not...remember much? A frown scarred his dark features, mirrored by a feeling of unease permeating the bond between himself and Irelyn, but the two of them moved forward. An urge in Helovia almost always meant something magical, and Torleik was not fool enough to ignore it. If there was something magical happening, especially if it had anything to do with the gods, odds were Ophelia would be there - and he certainly would not shirk the responsibility of arriving to keep his woman cared for. Safe. Not that...she needed him, overmuch.

'Stoppit.'

He couldn't help but smile a little; Irelyn had his emotional interests in mind always. The trip was not short, but he kept to the north coast as much as he could, avoiding incidental trespass in the Hidden Falls when the land loomed. He'd fought here. That memory was still intact. Interesting. The rabicano crossed the river that fed into the herdland just south of him and met mountainous terrain, spurred still onward, the feeling stronger now. What was here? What was he going to find? A sense of dread began to fill him; such urges, while magical, were not often good. Gods help him if...he was drawn here because of Ophelia.

'Sparks.'

Torleik's mood plummeted. The goddamn Time God? Really. 'And Ophelia?' he queried in return, using Irelyn's eyes as a scouting tool.

'Yes. And daughter.'

Fabulous. A whole damn family reunion, he growled bitterly to himself. So it was that the shift of the environment went somewhat more unnoticed than it would have to the Bloodskald, veiled as his perceptions were by anger and suspicion. But it was impossible not to notice what seemed like blood everywhere, and the panic threatened to rise up from the miasma of unease that flooded his system. Irelyn had said nothing of Ophelia being injured, he reminded himself, so surely she was fine? Spotting her pristine white form amongst the others that had gathered (so he was not the only one to feel the call) was as simple as taking a deep breath and he cut a wide, firm path to her side.

His glacial eyes were affixed, however, to the Time God, no empathy found in his breast for the bleeding divine. If a god could bleed...it could die. This was a warrior's assessment of the enemy in front of him - and Torleik very bluntly considered the God of the Spark anything but an ally.

And then there was Mauja. Moving on, but the Bloodskald was no fool. He'd seen the drawback of his white muzzle, and the dark male tried to suppress a sneer and the urge to slice his pretty face. Two threatening others was...perhaps more than the general-turned-leader could properly take. His temper was not so controlled, his self-confidence not so thick, his faith in anything at all not so strong. Silently, he bumped Phi's shoulder with his muzzle, and as the security of being next to her sunk in, the pikes in his defenses lowered every so slightly. A wounded god could die, yes, but would not a wounded god look favorably on a mortal who did not take advantage of such a state? Besides, what would it benefit him to see the Time God ended, other than a panacea for his insecurities and jealousies? Such...petty, mortal things, Torleik mused dourly.

And as his thoughts and emotions worked themselves out, he wondered: what had been powerful enough to make the god bleed? It was...a potentially lethal thought. If it could wound a god it could annihilate mortals - and that was of concern. This place, drenched in what appeared to be blood...he had hallucinated comparable visions in his lifetime and was not overtly unsettled now that he'd come to terms with the other assaults on his being. It did not damp his curiosity about whence this had come to be - or if this was why they were here. Because the God of the Spark had pulled this land from elsewhere? Was that why it bled? Rent from its previous earthly body, did the magic that was interwoven with the fabric of life and time run red, calling out the Spark God's guilt?

He did not look guilty, but raping another was a skill set he undoubtedly possessed.

"talk talk talk"

Art by Veradaine @ DA