Post by Forgoil Halifirien on Jul 21, 2009 16:55:54 GMT -5
He had managed to drag himself back into his office after leaving Talon and Rezna in Drakborough, but that damned head wound of his wasn't getting any better. Yes, the bleeding had stopped but the pain just kept intensifying like he had cracked his skull. Clutching his head, Forgoil clumisly managed to get inside of his office and staggered over to his chair before he collapsed in it. Gasping from the pain, the grey-haired man dug around in his desk unto he found the salve he was searching for and smeared it onto his forehead.
The wound was stabilized but it didn't take away the pain like it was supposed to. Instead, a pair of red eyes flashed in front of him and fires seemingly encircled him where he sat. He tried pushing himself up from his desk but his limbs had turned into jelly and the fires just grew higher. Surrounding by black smoke and searing flames, Halifirien shouted hoarsely as he tried to find whoever had started this but those red eyes flashed before his again and he heard "fiendfyre" whispered before the flames washed over his body.
Screaming out in agony, Forgoil clutched his head in both hands and as quickly as the fires had appeared they vanished into thin air. Nothing had been damaged in the room nor was he hurt any more than he already was: they were there one moment and gone the next. 'Get a hold of yerself', thought Forgoil to himself as he gripped his desk, so hard that his knuckles were turning white. He must be hallucinating from all the blood loss, he knew that was an unfortunate side effect in some cases.
What he needed now was a brief escape from his duties, and he opened the bottom draw of his desk in search of that escape. His hand grasping the familiar instruments, Forgoil first pulled a photograph out of his drawer which was promptly followed by a bottle of scotch and a small glass. Filling the glass to the brim, Forgoil set the glass down and caressed the picture in his hand with a particular fondness. In it was a combination of Talon, Rezna, James, Roan, Sylph, Telanie, himself, and everyone else that had served with distinction in the war. Frog was still bed-ridden at the time, so the photo was taken in the Hospital Wing with everyone around his bed.
"Here's ta yer health," murmured Forgoil as he rised his glass and then took a good gulp of scotch. "Here's ta the good times, the simple times. Here's ta ya two and gettin' yer act together" Forgoil was looking at Talon and Rezna in particular "And here's ta ya, where ever ya are." To each toast he followed the same pattern, but his eyes lingered on the last person for sometime before he sighed and put the old photo away. Filling himself another cup, Forgoil resigned himself to his recovery and started draining the glass again.
The wound was stabilized but it didn't take away the pain like it was supposed to. Instead, a pair of red eyes flashed in front of him and fires seemingly encircled him where he sat. He tried pushing himself up from his desk but his limbs had turned into jelly and the fires just grew higher. Surrounding by black smoke and searing flames, Halifirien shouted hoarsely as he tried to find whoever had started this but those red eyes flashed before his again and he heard "fiendfyre" whispered before the flames washed over his body.
Screaming out in agony, Forgoil clutched his head in both hands and as quickly as the fires had appeared they vanished into thin air. Nothing had been damaged in the room nor was he hurt any more than he already was: they were there one moment and gone the next. 'Get a hold of yerself', thought Forgoil to himself as he gripped his desk, so hard that his knuckles were turning white. He must be hallucinating from all the blood loss, he knew that was an unfortunate side effect in some cases.
What he needed now was a brief escape from his duties, and he opened the bottom draw of his desk in search of that escape. His hand grasping the familiar instruments, Forgoil first pulled a photograph out of his drawer which was promptly followed by a bottle of scotch and a small glass. Filling the glass to the brim, Forgoil set the glass down and caressed the picture in his hand with a particular fondness. In it was a combination of Talon, Rezna, James, Roan, Sylph, Telanie, himself, and everyone else that had served with distinction in the war. Frog was still bed-ridden at the time, so the photo was taken in the Hospital Wing with everyone around his bed.
"Here's ta yer health," murmured Forgoil as he rised his glass and then took a good gulp of scotch. "Here's ta the good times, the simple times. Here's ta ya two and gettin' yer act together" Forgoil was looking at Talon and Rezna in particular "And here's ta ya, where ever ya are." To each toast he followed the same pattern, but his eyes lingered on the last person for sometime before he sighed and put the old photo away. Filling himself another cup, Forgoil resigned himself to his recovery and started draining the glass again.