Rumors report that around the midnight hour, a great bellow came from the end of the longest dock in Valkurs Roar, right against the sea. Rumor flies about what it was, with some describing it as 'orc like' and others saying "it was the cry of Valkur himself at the recent troubles in his holy city".
One man swears he saw an armored giant made of ice mist walking through the fog towards the end of the dock, an apparition of a fallen knight.
A few women of Valkurs Roar who live near the dockside describe it as "the most heartrending cry", one indicating she thinks it's Valkur crying after the loss of his love.
Edthin walked towards the end of the dock, swaying slightly. His breath was quick, like a wounded animal. He paused to look behind him, watching back towards the dim lights of Valkurs Roar in the icy midnight fog, before turning to the sea and removing his helmet. His face is marked with tear stains, and his breath crystallizes in the air.
He takes a deep breath and lets out a long cry, from the bottom of his stomach and his heart, falling to his knees. He begins to pound the dock wood with his fist, sobbing openly and gasping for breath in impotent rage.
There is only one word. "Why" he gasp occasionally in the great wracking sobs. He lays on the docks, unmoving, his chest heaving beneath his armor, before he stands slowly and straightens up, face locked into a grim countenance once again, and puts his helmet on.
Post by mysticalkas on Feb 16, 2015 10:08:28 GMT -5
*while out seeking answers by those that live in the docks, Delfin hears the sounds and follows. he stands back calmly watching the figure at the end of the pier. when the orc-blood lets out his bellows. he would incline his head and place his hand over his heart, offering a silent prayer for peace he would turn, quietly leaving.
Netharmirth stalks the streets of Valkur's Roar late at night. She observes passerby's from the safety of the shadows, skillfully and silently slipping in and out of each dark place as she makes her way through alleyways and across roof tops. Her keen elven senses pick up on the commotion coming from the docks and like a moth to flame, she is instinctively drawn by cries of pain.
She crouches down on a low rooftop overlooking the dockside. She closes her emerald green eyes and listens as the figure pounds against the dock, each blow seems to resonate deep inside of her as if she were feeding upon the pain. Her lids open as the the pounding ceases and a small smile spreads across her painted lips as she recognizes the armored figure. She does not linger further and soon pushes back into the heart of the city.