-PHOENIX COURT 3-
Roleplay from Godric Tórrarin ka Habb
The duel, from Godric's perspective
Godric launched himself towards Andross. His heart true, he would resort to no trickery this day. Instead he vowed to pummel the traitor into dust. They did not trade blows, instead Andross weathered the strikes like a willow in a storm.
"Home."
Godric shakes the thought. He sees the clustered, frantic energy of the room. Selenia is unmoved. The elder priest has restricted his vita. The crowd is boiling like the straits at Valkyrja.
"Home."
Godric maintains focus. Parried, dodged, Godric is relentless in his assault. He must protect Xavax from Andross. He will see their reputation destroyed. The war will be lost. They will be cast to the winds. He wants to go home.
"Home."
How the Shrine must look, warm Sun, cool wind, the labyrinth of passes and alleys leading up to the keep. Godric must fight for his home. How his bones would ache climbing up and down those streets. His bones ache. Godric is old. Andross is very quick. He snarls as he renews the assault. He is trying to overwhelm the room. Trying very, very hard.
The Nourishing Tree, the vital spark, the connection between all. He is spreading his rot. Elysia frowns on him, for such anger to belie such hope. Godric ignores the lesser gods, Tor booms in the distance, growing closer and closer. Great heavy footsteps on the temple floors. Ancient bindings undone by the Dead God. They are all speaking to him now in turn, but his heart pounds louder and louder.
"Home."
The voice of an old lady pushes through the mayhem. "Home? Oh, I can send you home. The fire is warm, mother has put soup on again. Fresh bread from the tall, dark man. Eat up! I will send you home, look!" Godric sees Andross err, exposing his liver. "Go home, boy. Don't you want to?"
It was a feint. Godric tries to recover. Riposte. A pommel in the cheek to reward his fault. He hears the old woman cackle gently as the blade cuts deep into his flesh.
"Home."
Godric grunts, slumping to a knee. He looks up at Andross, who is shocked by his own success. He tries all he can to drive the spear into his gut but it is whipped out of his hand. The blade is lifted high and Godric can feel the bloodlust drooling from Andross.
"Boy."
Tor is here now. Godric trembles. He is unworthy. He always has been and he knows it. He dies today. The horror washes over him. He sees the wolf-friend, who snickers, "done yourself in good this time, haven't you? Toren do not die. We endure. Put the shield down and accept Him." The shield clatters to the ground as Godric collapses. "Rest now. Tor says you are not going home today. He rewards His faithful."
Godric's eyes flutter as he drifts from this world.
