It rips-- the pain tearing through meat and bone. The unmistakable thud and force of impact. It hit like a punch to the chest, a clean, dry shot slips through. Passing through the spaces occupied by skins and metals-- spells, prayers, hopes and curses. A horrid sensation pulses-- beating warm rhythm--- and blood.
=======================================
Cracked lips spread and wrap around sharp, yellowed teeth. Three of them missing, incisor to cuspid on the left side. He coughs blood through the gap as he screams.
======================================= The action ceases, the echo of a hard, wet impact fresh in the air. The Orc, Utum slides to a stop in the soft dirt, bow string slapping against his forearm. His final shot now sunk in deep in flesh of his opponent.
The crows clear, and the sounds of paced, measured breaths arise from beneath the layered sound of the melee held within the camp's walls.
As the two meet eyes, Utum let's out a howl of glory as the troll viciously tugs the arrow shaft out from it's place, wedged in between his shoulder pad and shoulder blade.
His arm twitches violently as he manipulates the impalement. The troll's eye, blood shot and dilated, flashes with frenzy as the serrated edge of the arrow head twists and pulls the sinews up through the skin of his now raw, exposed shoulder.
"Gaah!" He coughs out shortly, as the pain courses through his system. Eye still wide, his mouth curls up into a grin. His face now contorted into the vision of masochistic pleasure.
"Ja' gonna' be needin' dis' back, won'cha?" The troll's tongue curls and he drags arrow across it. He chuckles-- lips now speckled with fresh droplets of blood. He tosses the arrow into the orc's hand.
The troll turns from his loss and looks down at his shoulder.
"It don't look too bad, I don' 'tink.."
His ears have begun throbbing-- He can't hear the response but instead just mumbled tongues and the thumping of his heart.
Utum looks at him and speaks, but his words are not conveyed.
Xandru responds blankly-- his one exposed eyelid now heavy and damp with sweat. He blinks vacantly wiping the sweat from his brow with his uninjured fist. As he looks across the courtyard his vision blurs and his head swoons, he staggers a few feet and falls to his knee.
A lot of blood... I've spilled too much. His mind races-- in a panic he begins feverishly pull his armor away.
Bandages now... The trolls thoughts swimming now through his head. I need my bandages... his hand fondles blindly, aimlessly until finally, he pops open the button of his belt pouch.
The rags, still damp with antiseptic fluid are jerked free from their container. Long wraps unroll and fall into the mud, coiling at his feet. His head lifts and bobs lazily as he slowly begins to bind his wound.
With the cloth between his teeth he gives one final tug as the bandage tightens, and holds.
His eyes go dark. =====================================
Fuzzy figures now stand and speak above him, though their words and faces remain unknown..
"I 'tink is' maybe time fo'ah a lie down.." Xandru sits up in the mud, slurred words sliding loosely from his lips. He stands and begins to mumble and drool as he moves across the yard, dragging his steps before planting his feet.
Across the courtyard he enters a familiar structure. Greeting him is the unmistakeable frame of a blood elf woman. To her side the unmistakeable power and scent of a Succubus.
"Cersei."
He knows her.
The blood elf's lip curls as she inspects the troll before her.
"Yes?" Her eyes dancing him, as her smile gleams.
"Follow me..." The troll replies bluntly. Mid sentence his eyes cross an tongue dangles. He sloppily pushes past her, shaking thought back into his brain and climbs the first few steps. "..an' bring ya' ma'gic."
At this, her smile becomes a sinister grin. A once faint purple glow now begins to build brighter behind her pupils, as she starts to chant soft, hushed words.
As he reaches the top of the stairs he turns and looks down to the succubus beside Cersei and winks, "You too."