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Raiders of Oakhurst - A memoir of Erais Gunterson
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<blockquote data-quote="Colmarr" data-source="post: 4418495" data-attributes="member: 59182"><p>I was woken by small hands, cold as a chunk of ice, against my sternum. Even over the ache that filled me, the feel of Corrin’s knuckles against my breastbone brought me around in a wave of agony. The snow upon which I rested was cold, it paled into insignificance compared to the chill in my bones. I coughed weekly and opened my eyes. Corrin crouched above me, with Skamos’ concerned face behind him. Tira stood beside Skamos, her mouth a concerned ‘O’. When my eyes met hers, her mouth reverted to a teasing grin. </p><p> </p><p>“Wakey wakey, sleephead,” she said in a sing-song tone.</p><p></p><p>I grimaced and raised a hand to my head, and found it wrapped tightly with bandages. My left arm was bound to my chest with more cloth, and I struggled to sit up with only one free hand. Tira reached down and helped me rise.</p><p> </p><p>“The dragon?” I asked, and they stepped aside, revealing the beast’s corpse behind them. I could not help but breathe a sigh of relief. I looked again at my companions, taking them in. Corrin was covered with livid purple and blue bruises, and his face was chapped and raw. Dried blood marred his cheek, having trickled from one of his ears. Skamos’ robes were little more than tatters, hanging from his red-tinged flesh in strips. He fidgeted absent-mindedly with one of his horns, and I noticed with a start that the last inch of it had been chipped off, exposing the discoloured interior. Tira was the most presentable of the three, and I almost laughed. Of course she was. She always was. She seems to have come through the battle without a scratch, but her usually immaculate auburn tresses were tossed and frazzled, and her fingertips were blue with cold.</p><p></p><p>“How?” I asked, and began to climb to my feet.</p><p></p><p>Corrin smiled, and his teeth flashed whiter than the snow surrounding us.</p><p></p><p>“It was you that killed it, in a way.”</p><p></p><p>I grimaced at him in confusion.</p><p></p><p>“Each time the beast attacked you, Tymora punished it for ignoring my challenge. And finally, I imagine she’d had enough. The dragon perished seconds after you fell.”</p><p></p><p>I paused, considering his answer. The last moments of the battle replayed themselves in my mind and I recalled thinking that my luck had finally run out. The irony was delicious, and I could not help but laugh. “Curse your goddess, Corrin,“ I said without malice. “How can she bring me good luck and bad luck at the same time!”</p><p></p><p>Corrin laughed, and Tira soon joined in. Skamos simply stood there, scratching at his broken horn and wondering what the joke was.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Colmarr, post: 4418495, member: 59182"] I was woken by small hands, cold as a chunk of ice, against my sternum. Even over the ache that filled me, the feel of Corrin’s knuckles against my breastbone brought me around in a wave of agony. The snow upon which I rested was cold, it paled into insignificance compared to the chill in my bones. I coughed weekly and opened my eyes. Corrin crouched above me, with Skamos’ concerned face behind him. Tira stood beside Skamos, her mouth a concerned ‘O’. When my eyes met hers, her mouth reverted to a teasing grin. “Wakey wakey, sleephead,” she said in a sing-song tone. I grimaced and raised a hand to my head, and found it wrapped tightly with bandages. My left arm was bound to my chest with more cloth, and I struggled to sit up with only one free hand. Tira reached down and helped me rise. “The dragon?” I asked, and they stepped aside, revealing the beast’s corpse behind them. I could not help but breathe a sigh of relief. I looked again at my companions, taking them in. Corrin was covered with livid purple and blue bruises, and his face was chapped and raw. Dried blood marred his cheek, having trickled from one of his ears. Skamos’ robes were little more than tatters, hanging from his red-tinged flesh in strips. He fidgeted absent-mindedly with one of his horns, and I noticed with a start that the last inch of it had been chipped off, exposing the discoloured interior. Tira was the most presentable of the three, and I almost laughed. Of course she was. She always was. She seems to have come through the battle without a scratch, but her usually immaculate auburn tresses were tossed and frazzled, and her fingertips were blue with cold. “How?” I asked, and began to climb to my feet. Corrin smiled, and his teeth flashed whiter than the snow surrounding us. “It was you that killed it, in a way.” I grimaced at him in confusion. “Each time the beast attacked you, Tymora punished it for ignoring my challenge. And finally, I imagine she’d had enough. The dragon perished seconds after you fell.” I paused, considering his answer. The last moments of the battle replayed themselves in my mind and I recalled thinking that my luck had finally run out. The irony was delicious, and I could not help but laugh. “Curse your goddess, Corrin,“ I said without malice. “How can she bring me good luck and bad luck at the same time!” Corrin laughed, and Tira soon joined in. Skamos simply stood there, scratching at his broken horn and wondering what the joke was. [/QUOTE]
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