Goddess FallenAngel
Explorer
As Dariel frees Dessa Sik-Morcane, Zieggrek stares at his mother, happiness at her regained sanity momentarily confused by the single tear tracking its way down her face. Why was she crying? Tears were a sign of weakness, and Dessa was not weak -
Then she burst into flames.
He ducked his head against the explosion in startlement, and then pain as his hair and skin began to smolder. Batting out the lingering flames, he looks up to see that Dessa is well and truly dead, her body burned beyond recognition.
Zieggrek howls in fury and turns to the room. Ignoring the nearby Carcelon (as well as Durdyn Morcane's body), Zieggrek strides over to the passage that the Matron Mother had opened behind Dorina's throne, gory claws clenched and trailing the odor of burned hair, ignoring the acidic stinging of Dreshalla's blood-splatters and pain of burned flesh as his moves. Seeing that he is too large to fit into the passage to reap bloody vengence for his mother's death, Zieggrek growls in infuriated frustration and punches the nearest wall.
His fist throbbing in pain as the burned and acid-marked skin reacts to contacting the wall at full strength, Zieggrek reaches for and drinks one of the tiny bottles of magical liquid he had been given, eyeing the Matron Mother for her next orders, still growling deep in his chest.
OOC: Drinking a potion of Cure Moderate Wounds.
Then she burst into flames.
He ducked his head against the explosion in startlement, and then pain as his hair and skin began to smolder. Batting out the lingering flames, he looks up to see that Dessa is well and truly dead, her body burned beyond recognition.
Zieggrek howls in fury and turns to the room. Ignoring the nearby Carcelon (as well as Durdyn Morcane's body), Zieggrek strides over to the passage that the Matron Mother had opened behind Dorina's throne, gory claws clenched and trailing the odor of burned hair, ignoring the acidic stinging of Dreshalla's blood-splatters and pain of burned flesh as his moves. Seeing that he is too large to fit into the passage to reap bloody vengence for his mother's death, Zieggrek growls in infuriated frustration and punches the nearest wall.
His fist throbbing in pain as the burned and acid-marked skin reacts to contacting the wall at full strength, Zieggrek reaches for and drinks one of the tiny bottles of magical liquid he had been given, eyeing the Matron Mother for her next orders, still growling deep in his chest.
OOC: Drinking a potion of Cure Moderate Wounds.