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Dark Days in Sion - Act 3: Scene 1
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<blockquote data-quote="Hillsy7" data-source="post: 6874036" data-attributes="member: 6689191"><p><strong>Burrai Steelborn</strong></p><p></p><p>As the Rhat, Jabbar, and the akhenaten called Vadik exchanged heated, quiet words. Burrai slowly put his shield back in it's clasp. He'd intended to hurl it at the figure, hoping to stun him long enough to aprehend him. Instead he watched the barbed volleys of spiteful, angry words with growing frustration. The morning's dealings with Rol, then the protracted dealings with the Devils, Kong....and now THIS?! Was every little wretch with a scrap of power in this town going to cross his path tonight of all nights? If Thoril Oakhill's malevolent diary warped fate like this, Burrai was almost tempted to throw the damn thing down the nearest abandoned mine and be done with it. Instead he folded his arm, keeping his hands from the pommel of his axe. </p><p></p><p>He knew enough of Noro to surmise his type from Vadik's words: An opportunist who'd found that through manipulation and backstabbing he could further his own aims. And now when he was reaching the limits of power he could wring from his position, continued to do the same regardless. A meeting with Burrai Steelborn? Requested at the end of a blunt weapon like Kong? He snorted, a sound like a ripping sheet. And still they argued...</p><p></p><p>As Burrai watched, a mix of acceptance and horror dropping down through his stomach, as the guard twitched and started on the wall above, lifting and lowering his curved horn to his lips. At any minute the alarm was going to be raised, and the streets would be under the savage gaze of the Vulkyre.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Something in Burrai clicked into place, that old soldier's habit of sensing when action was preferable to waiting for wise men to make correct decisions too late. He stepped between the three men arguing, taut and purposeful as though his axe was in his hands. Instead of drawing he stood before Vadik, reached up and grabbed his collar in one hand. With the relentless force of a well crafted ratchet, he pulled the man's face down to meet his. Burrai regarded him with his scarred eye, a black pearl, cold and hard, peering out from the felshy folds of his healed wound.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #8b4513">"Vadik, is it? Well, Noro could have carved an invite into Kong's arse and had him turn up here naked to deliver it, and I'd still not answer. You've got about five seconds to crawl back into whatever crack you live in, or the Vul will need a mop and bucket to bury you. Get lost."</span> Burrai didn't push him away, simply released this iron grip. [SBLOCK="Intimidate"]Intimidate Check (+8)=21[/SBLOCK]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Hillsy7, post: 6874036, member: 6689191"] [b]Burrai Steelborn[/b] As the Rhat, Jabbar, and the akhenaten called Vadik exchanged heated, quiet words. Burrai slowly put his shield back in it's clasp. He'd intended to hurl it at the figure, hoping to stun him long enough to aprehend him. Instead he watched the barbed volleys of spiteful, angry words with growing frustration. The morning's dealings with Rol, then the protracted dealings with the Devils, Kong....and now THIS?! Was every little wretch with a scrap of power in this town going to cross his path tonight of all nights? If Thoril Oakhill's malevolent diary warped fate like this, Burrai was almost tempted to throw the damn thing down the nearest abandoned mine and be done with it. Instead he folded his arm, keeping his hands from the pommel of his axe. He knew enough of Noro to surmise his type from Vadik's words: An opportunist who'd found that through manipulation and backstabbing he could further his own aims. And now when he was reaching the limits of power he could wring from his position, continued to do the same regardless. A meeting with Burrai Steelborn? Requested at the end of a blunt weapon like Kong? He snorted, a sound like a ripping sheet. And still they argued... As Burrai watched, a mix of acceptance and horror dropping down through his stomach, as the guard twitched and started on the wall above, lifting and lowering his curved horn to his lips. At any minute the alarm was going to be raised, and the streets would be under the savage gaze of the Vulkyre. Something in Burrai clicked into place, that old soldier's habit of sensing when action was preferable to waiting for wise men to make correct decisions too late. He stepped between the three men arguing, taut and purposeful as though his axe was in his hands. Instead of drawing he stood before Vadik, reached up and grabbed his collar in one hand. With the relentless force of a well crafted ratchet, he pulled the man's face down to meet his. Burrai regarded him with his scarred eye, a black pearl, cold and hard, peering out from the felshy folds of his healed wound. [COLOR=#8b4513]"Vadik, is it? Well, Noro could have carved an invite into Kong's arse and had him turn up here naked to deliver it, and I'd still not answer. You've got about five seconds to crawl back into whatever crack you live in, or the Vul will need a mop and bucket to bury you. Get lost."[/COLOR] Burrai didn't push him away, simply released this iron grip. [SBLOCK="Intimidate"]Intimidate Check (+8)=21[/SBLOCK] [/QUOTE]
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