The Story Continues
It's name was Urze and it was pretty damned big as far as Ngithol
was concerned. Big, ugly and angry; angry enough that any blows from
it's club would likely be fatal. Most would've felt some form of
trepidation as it approached her and Malvus, Ngithol however merely felt anticipation and... nostaliga?
Shaking her head to banish the feelings she brought her focus on readying her shield and blade and watched as Malvus deftly avoided approaching beast's attack and unleashed a rapid counter attack of his own, striking with precision and undeniable effectiveness. Urze had a mere moment to contemplate what had occured before he slumped to the ground, utterly broken. Ngithol fought to not do the same as what she had seen triggered a sudden flood of memories of Mebzuth... her dear sweet Mebzuth. Then came the memories of verdant flame that seemed to always tie themselves to any thoughts of her previous life. She marshalled herself and attempted to refocus on the fight, intent on killing a goblin to distract herself and bury the memories, only to see the remaining ones already dead or fleeing.
Ngithol ignored the smiles and cheering of her... companions and hurried out of the cave, her skin suddenly feeling aflame and her vision blurring slightly as the memories came. The pain, the loss, everything she tried not to dwell on coming back in a rush. With mute fervor she strode to the nearby creek, throwing her cloak and pack aside before desperately pulling her chainmail off, all but convinced now that the flames were upon her again. It was no sooner that she got free of her armor that she immediately began wetting the bandages she was still wreathed in with creek water and relished the feeling of it smothering a fire she knew was not there. It took only a moment for the 'flames' to go away once she had started but it was a notably longer while till Ngithol successfully steadied herself.
She quickly stood, realizing how insane she must look, and retrieved her pack before sitting on a nearby rock where she began peeling off the soaked cloth wraps covering her scarred body and setting them aside, chiding herself as she realized how dirty they'd become and the fact she'd neglected to replace them sooner. She looked at the fresh wraps in her pack and decided best to let herself dry before putting them on. As she stood there wearing only some thin cloth shorts she took a moment to try and make a note of picking up an unguent from the town when they returned, anything that might help soothe her skin. An unguent and perhaps some alcohol.
Shaking her head to banish the feelings she brought her focus on readying her shield and blade and watched as Malvus deftly avoided approaching beast's attack and unleashed a rapid counter attack of his own, striking with precision and undeniable effectiveness. Urze had a mere moment to contemplate what had occured before he slumped to the ground, utterly broken. Ngithol fought to not do the same as what she had seen triggered a sudden flood of memories of Mebzuth... her dear sweet Mebzuth. Then came the memories of verdant flame that seemed to always tie themselves to any thoughts of her previous life. She marshalled herself and attempted to refocus on the fight, intent on killing a goblin to distract herself and bury the memories, only to see the remaining ones already dead or fleeing.
Ngithol ignored the smiles and cheering of her... companions and hurried out of the cave, her skin suddenly feeling aflame and her vision blurring slightly as the memories came. The pain, the loss, everything she tried not to dwell on coming back in a rush. With mute fervor she strode to the nearby creek, throwing her cloak and pack aside before desperately pulling her chainmail off, all but convinced now that the flames were upon her again. It was no sooner that she got free of her armor that she immediately began wetting the bandages she was still wreathed in with creek water and relished the feeling of it smothering a fire she knew was not there. It took only a moment for the 'flames' to go away once she had started but it was a notably longer while till Ngithol successfully steadied herself.
She quickly stood, realizing how insane she must look, and retrieved her pack before sitting on a nearby rock where she began peeling off the soaked cloth wraps covering her scarred body and setting them aside, chiding herself as she realized how dirty they'd become and the fact she'd neglected to replace them sooner. She looked at the fresh wraps in her pack and decided best to let herself dry before putting them on. As she stood there wearing only some thin cloth shorts she took a moment to try and make a note of picking up an unguent from the town when they returned, anything that might help soothe her skin. An unguent and perhaps some alcohol.
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