Missed. Again

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Karjus
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Joined: Thu Sep 07, 2017 9:28 am

Missed. Again

Post by Karjus »

Sitting astride the large black warhorse, the ridgeleather-clad man slumped in the saddle as he practically spat one single word and looked at his handiwork.

“F**k.”

Then relative silence, at least of the spoken word, as his lips twisted in utter distaste and the horse pawed at the freshly churned ground that it had just ridden through as if eager to return the way it had come. The man didn’t bother to try and control the steed, simply letting stallion vent its own energy while he did his best to contain his. Leather creaking, his one hand still on the pine haft of his glaive gripping it even tighter in an attempt to channel it without vocalizing beyond the gritting of his teeth.

With an abrupt sigh, the armored man seemed to negate his irritation at least to the point of his features returning to a more normal, if arrogant, appearance though he still looked like he was about to snap the pine in two with his hand. In complete contrast to that though, he began to brush the cropped mane of his horse and running his fingers through the coarse hair with his free hand. When he spoke again there was none of the frustration he’d previously displayed and if anything, there was more than a hint of affection.

“Easy, Mourn. Nothing we can do about it now.”

The “It” was the fresh corpse laying on his back with a huge gaping tear splitting leather, clothes, and skin down from the right shoulder into the chest making it look like someone had tried to pull the man in two. The blow had split the hemp of a pendant hanging loosely around his neck, the now gray crystal at the end of it coated in the fresh blood. He was relatively young, at least in comparison to the rider, and had a shocked expression on his face that hadn’t had time to change into one of agony. Fine rimveil, and what looked like wechuge-made leather marked him of at least someone with means as did the steel blade held in one hand.

“Missed. Again.”

A pause.

“Ah well. Wonder if he’s Undying?”

With a slow shrug at his own query, the rider smoothly dismounted and moved towards the broken corpse to kneel down alongside it. Setting his glaive to one side, he drew his knife to begin to grisly work of collecting proof.

(Kept meaning to write more, but running out of time lately so figured I'd post what I've got and maybe expand later)
- Karjus

Speaking to you, XYZ says, "Never bother to wash it. It gets dirty again anyway."
Speaking to XYZ, you say, "I hope you don't treat your ass the same way."
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