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| - ****
- ***
- by Ravenlock
- Dagan dodged the next powerful swing of the Lugian as he neatly grazed the giant's side with his spare silifi, which he kept for emergencies like these. A cry of pain came from the immense creature's mouth as it madly launched another attack. This time Dagan was just a second too late and he caught the full force of his opponent's huge fist that sent him flying across the room.
- Blood, blood everywhere. Blood danced with every one of his senses. He did not notice the mangled corpses of three Lithos Lugians and one Obeloth strewn around him. Everything was submerged in an impenetrable scarlet haze as he started running for the corridor. Why he started running in the first place he didn't even know. He just knew that something was waiting for him at the end of the hallway.
- Slowly the tension in his muscles faded and he sat himself back down on the finely carved wooden chair that decorated the chamber. . .
- And again there came a cry of pain.
- When Dagan finally reached town, he had no notion of how he even got there or how long it had taken him. He didn't have a notion of anything but the burning ache that tormented his entire, weary body. Not much better off than the dead opponent he had left behind, Dagan sank to his knees. This battle at least, he had come out alive. . .
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Praeludium
- The piercing pain that spread like wildfire, from the gaping wound in his shoulder to the rest of his weary body, was nothing in comparison to the agony emitted from another wound, a wound far, far deeper. And so, body tortured and mind tormented, Dagan struggled on, determined to get as many leagues as possible between himself and the place he once considered home before his endurance finally faltered and he was submerged in blessed oblivion. . .
- This was the chance he'd been waiting for. He'd have to take it if he ever wanted to get out of this alive. Dagan grabbed the lightning axe he lost in his first here, unexpected encounter with the Gigas and immediately he felt a new hope dawn within his soul. Thanks to the magic of the axe he was quicker now, and he whirled it with dazzling swiftness as the blue body came storming right toward him. Quickly jumping out of harm's way, he jolted the object of his rage, blistering its skin all along the back.
- Suddenly he jumped up at some noise in this distance, his axe ready to slash whatever dared challenge him. "Relax," said the voice in his head. "You're jumping at shadows, no monsters here."
- Not even stopping to take a breath, he ran. He ran harder then ever before in his life, as if at the end of his long run he would find the one thing he had always been searching for.
- "Home?" spoke a voice from somewhere within the back of his mind. "What home is that? They stole your home away from you remember? At least here, there is no one you need care about, at least here you have nothing more to lose. . ."
- Dagan savored these quiet moments alone. At this hour, the Eastham meeting hall was mostly deserted and a haven for a wounded soul like Dagan's. Here, for once, he could let his guard down and use the poisoned gift of time to think.
- "The axe, get the axe," the familiar voice inside his head spoke.
- He knew he couldn't survive without the ability to heal himself. The only question that remained was if he really wanted to live knowing what he'd become. Dagan let out a sigh that held the torment of a man torn between two worlds. The dried blood that stained his armor reminded him of the events that led to this internal conflict. . .
- It took a massive blow of the Gigas to bring a dim light back into Dagan's mind.
- It had been almost three years since he had staggered, bleeding, toward the pink glow that seemed to speak to his very desire to run away as far as he possible could. "Well," he whispered to himself, "I couldn't have run much further than this. That's for damn sure." And still, what good did it do him? Fighting, that was all he had done since the day he'd been thrown into this accursed world. In all this time, he had only been sinking deeper and deeper into that which he tried to escape from back home.
- Half conscious, he heard the pounding of Gigas feet upon the stone floor of the citadel. Dagan rolled away just in time to avoid having his head stomped to a bloody pulp. Swinging his axe with a speed that startled both the Lugian and himself, he slashed a gushing wound into one of the titanic legs.
- The stars above Qalabar slowly made place for the crimson of the morning sun as the town started to come to life again after it's uneasy slumber. Though the Lugian outposts were a little too close for comfort, the town itself wasn't under any real threat so the inhabitants could at least sleep, if not completely at ease, then still far less troubled than Dagan. He stared at the iron wand that lay in his lap. He had never believed magic to be a solution for the turmoil that plagued Dereth. Quite the contrary, he had always seen magic as something that with time corrupted even the strongest of hearts, and he had sworn an oath to himself that he would never cast so long as his mind was free. But still the wand lay in his lap and still he wasn't sure. . .
- He could tell by the way the Gigas moved that it was severely hurt. By the blood flowing richly from out its side and leg, and the smoke coming off the seared spine of the great monster, he knew that it was almost defeated. Dagan should use this opening in its defenses now or never live to try again. He lunged forward, blocking a blow with his shield and hit the axe right upon the large round head.
- The voice was right, he realized. He had kept to himself from the start, avoiding human contact as best he could. He had hunted with others on one or two occasions, but only when the need was grave enough to do so. Though still a young man and relatively inexperienced in the art of combat, his mind was that of a veteran and his experience in loss was surpassed by few.
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