Post by Marko on Jul 13, 2008 1:31:54 GMT -5
Sir Hill saw the demon finaly grabbing and pulling hard the weapons lodged in the hell hardened skin. The careless, strong pull of the demon upon the axe and sword, with no care for personal injury removed the sharpp carfted object but this meant that a large quantity of skin and brimstone blood gushed out of the uncovered wound.
"It would only heal itself back!" - sir Hill tought getting ready to throw the bottle. The Beliarh droped the axe and sword as it took one step forward. Its head tossed from side to side, closing and opening its eyes. Inside, the magical equations which were the base of this magical construct, were hard at work repairing the damage to it's eyes and skin. Whoever called this abomination from the hellfires was indeed a proficient artificer of the forbiden Mana Arts.
"One more step!" - cried out in silence sir Hill taking one step to the side. The Beliarh was visibly better, it started to pin point the location of sir Hill, the vision still not sharp enough and the wound still wide open flowing with small rivers of brimstone blood. This situation, of course, was temporary. Those would heal and the Beliarh already began its ominous march toward the knight.
"This is the best opportunity I'll ever get. " - sir Hill resumed, judging the distance and position of the demon. The bottle was away from his hand and arching in the air towards the wound. It wasn't the best throw sir Hill had done in a long time, but it reached with aceptable errors the area near the wound. The hard glass broke on the skin of the Beliarh with hardly any inquiry to the construct, but the liquid...
The contents of the bottle splashed all over the impact area, some flying in the air, but most flowing down and upon the open wound of the demon. When it reached it, violent foames appeared in and around the brimstone blood lake on the wound. The demon didnt recognized it at first as a danger, only when its sensed were overwhelmed by pain did it react in any way...
Alric began to wake up. He felt how a gently embrace, filled with care and tenderness, carryed him away. He blinked twice trying to adjust his eyessight and got the impression from the hands around him that it was Chirando. Also fighting the headache piledriving his mind, he tried to comprehend what was going on. The half-elf stopped to get his barrings straight, and think off where would be a better hidding spot.
For Alric, he percived this stop not as a stop before the destionation but as the final stop to whereever his was being carried away to. Sensing the half-elf was not retreating from his embrace and hug, Alric had to speak:
"Em? Elf? What are you doing?" -his voice having an awkward tone.
"It would only heal itself back!" - sir Hill tought getting ready to throw the bottle. The Beliarh droped the axe and sword as it took one step forward. Its head tossed from side to side, closing and opening its eyes. Inside, the magical equations which were the base of this magical construct, were hard at work repairing the damage to it's eyes and skin. Whoever called this abomination from the hellfires was indeed a proficient artificer of the forbiden Mana Arts.
"One more step!" - cried out in silence sir Hill taking one step to the side. The Beliarh was visibly better, it started to pin point the location of sir Hill, the vision still not sharp enough and the wound still wide open flowing with small rivers of brimstone blood. This situation, of course, was temporary. Those would heal and the Beliarh already began its ominous march toward the knight.
"This is the best opportunity I'll ever get. " - sir Hill resumed, judging the distance and position of the demon. The bottle was away from his hand and arching in the air towards the wound. It wasn't the best throw sir Hill had done in a long time, but it reached with aceptable errors the area near the wound. The hard glass broke on the skin of the Beliarh with hardly any inquiry to the construct, but the liquid...
The contents of the bottle splashed all over the impact area, some flying in the air, but most flowing down and upon the open wound of the demon. When it reached it, violent foames appeared in and around the brimstone blood lake on the wound. The demon didnt recognized it at first as a danger, only when its sensed were overwhelmed by pain did it react in any way...
Alric began to wake up. He felt how a gently embrace, filled with care and tenderness, carryed him away. He blinked twice trying to adjust his eyessight and got the impression from the hands around him that it was Chirando. Also fighting the headache piledriving his mind, he tried to comprehend what was going on. The half-elf stopped to get his barrings straight, and think off where would be a better hidding spot.
For Alric, he percived this stop not as a stop before the destionation but as the final stop to whereever his was being carried away to. Sensing the half-elf was not retreating from his embrace and hug, Alric had to speak:
"Em? Elf? What are you doing?" -his voice having an awkward tone.
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