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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Vendetta" data-source="post: 1636635" data-attributes="member: 14961">The dwarven monstrocity listens to Yrtchull and he can taste the bile as it rises from his stomach.  He would love to take a shot at the cursed being who did this to him. Vorath's hard, chitinous shell masks his expressions and he appears little more than breathing. The insectile Duergar looks to Nurin to see what reaction the Drow might offer, though not expecting to learn much from a member of a race so adept at deceit.  Doubts race through the dwarf's mind.  Has he recovered enough to face the monster that changed him this way?  Is he strong enough?  Will he and his new comrades be so easily overcome as he and his kin had been so very long ago?  Or was he putting too much on all of it?  Perhaps the cursed being had simply gotten the drop on him.  Perhaps the creature had no power.  Perhaps Vorath had been trapped only because of circumstance and now, with circumstances different, he could destroy the Cursed the way the Cursed One had destroyed him.Vorath felt something in his stomach... something dispised, not only by himself but his people.  He felt it only once before; something vile, something horrible, something that was punishable by death among his kin.  Fear.Fear would not master him, though.  What did death matter to him?  Yet he was afraid.  Not of pain, nor death but of being imprisoned and subject to more experiments.  It was something he could not bear again.  As Vorath thought on his torments at the hands of the being forever cursed by him, his hatred grew so that the fear was swept away and replaced by nothing but a longing to drive a dozen dozens of arrows into the heart of the man.</blockquote>

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