Dec 25, 2011 23:05
[ Sun rises over Mayfield on December 25th. Christmas, though it means nothing to this secular warrior. He'd won this time. Fought against the town's illusions, from Torgaddon, to the deceit surrounding his beloved friends, he had fought demon, sorcerer, heretic, and even titan. He was victorious, unyielding. The Grey Knight of Mayfield.
And yet.... he was wounded, sorely. He could feel the bite of the demon-blade even inside his armor, where Caster's minion had torn into him before his dastardly escape. It wasn't healing quick enough, not with the larraman cells stemming the flow, not with the auto-systems of the armor stabilizing him. He walks through town, ignoring the pain in his side, standing tall on this strange morning patrol, the snow light around him, wiping away the blood dribbling from his lip with the back of his gauntlet. He moves on, scaling the hill at the edge of town, and finally turns, passing through downtown, the Zemekis building, and finally heading towards the road at the edge of town. He stands, an agonized sentinel, armor charred and scarred. Unbowed, unbroken, but wounded. Taking a moment, just a moment, to be proud that he resisted the lies of the town, where even some of his friends did not. ]
(ooc:feel free to tag him at whatever point in the journey you think is best.)