|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Oct 22, 2012 11:41 pm
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd 'That took guts to say. My respect for you grows,' the goblin grunted in Seelie. Yes, he was angry but he wasn't going to take it out on the drow. One couldn't blame a single person for the whole of society. The drow had spoken honesty. Marltok could respect that.
If it wasn't for what the man said next, the drow may have kept that respect he'd earned. Alas, the words saying it was an honour to speak the enslaved goblins' language and that he had to stoop to speaking it only made Marltok want to break his effeminate, arrogant face against the hard, rock bench in front of the empty fireplace.. repeatedly if he'd had his way. The man was facing him now so he swung a punch right in the nose. The drow was lucky he'd dodged. Marltok wasn't one to hold back. He stepped forward with his good leg, using the momentum to punch the man in the floating rib. It landed. Since they were in close quarters he was able to grab his blade-edged skull crusher from its harness and slam it into the back of the man's shoulder, the one with the uninjured hand. He kept pressing down in order to force the elf to the ground with his stomach against the ground. Marltok had one leg either side of the drow's body and the uninjured hand pinned to the floor. He twisted it up behind the man's back and pressed down. He didn't particularly care if it hurt or not, just that the man would be unable to fight back while Marltok punished him.
'Typical elven arrogance! Your family enslaves other races, that I could accept, but for you to think those other races are beneath you and that is it somehow an honour you know their language! Ha! Any words that come from your mouth are a defilement. You will speak Seelie until you've earned the right to speak Goblin,' the goblin growled. Though he spoke in Seelie it was as guttural as when he'd roared earlier.
The goblin grabbed the jewels and refinery from the drow's hair, yanking them out and throwing them across the room. With his blade-edged skull crusher he began to hack away at the side of the drow's hair. He pulled the man's head back by the hair and placed the blade of his scull crusher close to the skin. When he'd removed a sizeable chuck he pushed the drow's head forward, got off him and looked down upon him. He held the hair up in one hand and the weapon in the other. He knew he'd goaded the slave into a possible attack. It the drow attacked him he'd plunge the weapon into the top of the drow's head, his shoulder or into the soft flesh in his side. It didn't matter, so long as he hit hard the weapon would do damage.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 12:33 am
 A thin eyebrow cocked upwards when Marltok said that it was a courageous thing to do. Personally, the Drow didn't see how. That's how life was in the Underdark. No need to sugar coat it. And considering his next set of words to the goblin, he wasn't surprised that Marltok's fist was suddenly flying towards him.
With the quickness granted his people, he dodged lightly. A sharp pain, and a small pop exploded in his ribcage. Quilzar only gritted his teeth and growled with a surprising feral quality. He tried landing a punch on Marltok with his uninjured hand, and with his other hand, he reached between the folds of his robing to find the boot-dagger hidden within. Suddenly, his vision went white as another burst of a different kind of pain blossomed in his shoulder. He felt chilled again, as if someone had turned on the air conditioner. The next sequence, he wasn't too awfully sure about what exactlly happened. It all seemed to happen so quickly and so slowly at the same time. He knew he hit the ground, landing roughly on his shoulders and with a rather hard thump to his head as it rebounded against the floor. The Drow felt the scull crusher go the rest of the way through his shoulder to hit the floor before his uninjured hand was twisted up.
Quilzar heard Marltok speaking to him in gutteral Seelie, and comparing him to an elf again. He was about to start protesting again when he felt his hair being yanked out of its confines. His silvery orbs widened in shock when he realized what might happen next. He felt the scull crusher being pulled from his shoulder. Great Hells, this couldn't happen! The blood stain in his hair, he could deal with, but please Lolth, let not this happen! In a last attempt to stop Marltok, Quilzar reached down to his boot to grab his loosened dagger. With the rest of his body, he struggled hard to no avail. Finally, with his dagger in hand, he drove it as hard as he could into Marltok's bad leg. He felt his head being pulled back and the scull crusher to his head. Quil cursed loudly in Drowish as he felt part of the tension in his head lessen.
After Marltok let him go, everything in Quilzar's body went completely limp, his mouth open in a silent gasp, his brows furrowed and, he couldn't believe this one, a tear or so fell from his eyes. He lay there for a moment, taking in exactly what had happened. Bringing his legs under him, he slowly began to sit up. He let his hair just pool around him the way it normally would, sans the piece of hair that dangled no more than five centimeters from his scalp, tickling the top of his jaw line, just in front of his ear. He breathed hard for a few moments, his shoulders slumped and his head down. His eyes couldn't focus on any one spot. Suddenly his mouth was dry and he was finding it troublesome to swallow. Another tear ran down his face.
"Yes Master, I shall do as you bid..." he said in Seelie with a whisper that could barely be heard. He was still in shock. Never before had his hair ever been threatened, and now, a rather large chunk of it was just gone. As if it had vanished into thin air. Something that had always been seen as valuable, even to the females, was now damaged. It was as if a piece of him had been cut away, and now, he couldn't replace it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 1:58 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd Marltok hissed as a punch struck him in the side. Son of a b***h had some muscle on him. The other punch probably did more damage to that wrist than to Marltok though. It was a stupid attack. The man's situation was not dire enough to warrant using a broken wrist, in Marltok's opinion. If Marltok had wanted to he could have used the attack against the man or even snapped it a second time. The man would have gotten a lecture for his stupidity if not for the sequence of events that followed.
The knife struck, the goblin gritted his teeth. He just got on with the task at hand. He would deal with the injury later. At least it had been the injured hand the drow had attacked with. The man really was putting up a fight! Marltok would have been impressed if not for how pitifully it had ended. The man just went limp, like a rag thrown to the floor. It took the goblin a few moments to take it in and realise what was happening, and even then he didn't know how to address it. The man was crying, for ******** sake! Over a piece of hair! Surely it wasn't losing the fight that had done such damage. Marltok knew not.
's**t!' the goblin swore. He knew elves were touchy about their looks but he hadn't expected it to affect the elf this much. If he had he would have just bitten an ear or two off but there was the possibility an elf would be insecure about that too. Either way, he knew he'd gone too far. Marltok knew this was a delicate situation but there was nothing delicate about Marltok. This was actually awkward for him. He wasn't sure how to deal with the elf. He'd never seen any of them break down in front of him before or seen their spirits crushed. It must have been a long drop from arrogance to this. 's**t!'
The goblin relaxed his stance, the fight was over. He lowered his weapon but did not put it away. Cornered and injured animals were prone to aggressive defence. He walked over and stood before the drow, holding back the urge to yank the man to his feet. He doubted it would do any good to bodily force the man into anything.
'Get off the floor, Quilzar Torviir, and pick up your things. Stand up straight and keep your head high. So you lost this battle. There will be others. You will win another day,' he ordered, standing in front of the drow.
'I want to see you wipe those tears from your eyes and tuck that hair behind your ear. You're going to go home, get yourself cleaned up, eat a hearty meal and go to bed. I expect you at the dojo at midday tomorrow,' Marltok ordered. He had no other way to attack the problem than as an ARCS leader. He didn't know if his orders would harm or hinder but it was better than the man curling up on the floor moping over his hair.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 2:30 am
Quilzar's expression of shocked changed to that of one who was dazed. Marltok didn't understand just what was going on in the Drow's mind. The only bit of value he had left, and it was taken from him with both hands. He barely registered Marltok's cursing, nor did he really notice the sparse tears that had fallen. With his braced hand, he reached up to touch the shortened scrap of hair. Vaguely, he noticed that Marltok's stance relaxed a bit, not that he disarmed himself. Smart, even if Quil had absolutely no intention of attacking the man. What did it matter anymore? For Quilzar, it was never really about looks. He didn't even have a mirror in his room for crying outloud. He knew he would have to cut the rest of it off so it didn't look strange. There was no way he could gather enough balls to ask Lolth for another favor so soon.
Marltok's feet walked into his vision. He vaguely recognized what the goblin was saying, though he felt that he lacked the strength to stand. His legs felt numb, and not because he was sitting on them. Looking away, he thought about what Marltok had said. With a shocked motion, he brought his hand up to touch his tear trails. His expression changed to one of horror before he frantically wiped the tears away. He showed weakness, even in this dire time. Surely that would be unforgiveable. A stoic mask replaced his expressions, but it wasn't long before he closed his eyes and shook his head. Marltok didn't understand. He looked up to gaze towards Marl's head with a furrowed brow, and dejected eyes.
"You do not understand what you have done. This was the only thing of value I had left that was not expoited. It was because of my hair that I received any kind words, and now it is gone. Damaged," he paused to regard the incredibly shortened strands with his fingers once again. Then he said to himself, "The first time it has ever been cut, and it had to be in this manner." After another second or so, he stood with shaking legs and looked to the place where his jeweled circlet had been thrown as if it were nothing but garbage. His uniform, now stained with blood, had no further meaning to him. He was unworthy of it now. Walking over to the circlet, he picked it up tenderly with his braced hand. With his other, he weakly ran his fingers over the colors of the Arabafin House.
"Besides, you expect me to fight in this condition. I will not be able to replicate the healing magic that fixed my wrist."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 3:43 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd Marltok frowned as he watched the man continue to struggle. Part of him wanted to grab the man and shout at him like he was some goblin warrior. He was not though, he was an elf and elves dealt with things differently. Not to mention that he'd never seen an elf at their lowest. This was a completely new experience and it was taking all his skill in emotions to know what to do. He was fairly certain he wasn't doing any good.
'Harden up, Quilzar Torviir! Stand up straight and hold your head up. If you do not toughen up I'll do it for you!' he ordered, then sighed. He wasn't used to this type of emotion. Fear on the battlefield, people grieving for loved ones but something like this? He didn't even know that "this" was. How could anyone think their only worth was in their hair? 'No, I do not know what I have done but I know this: there is more value to you than your hair or any part of your body. You are not damaged. Where I come from you would be respected for your courage, your strength and your ability. Of these qualities you can be proud.'
'I said I expect you at the dojo. You will be there. I will decide what we do when we meet,' Marltok stated. He would not budge on that. If Quilzar was not up to sparring then so be it. It was more important for the man to get himself up and focused on something other than his damned hair. Marltok walked towards the door and opened it. Unless the man had anything pressing to say or do it was time to leave. 'You will now go back to your quarters and do as I have ordered. I will ask you tomorrow to see if you have fixed yourself up. If you can't heal yourself so be it, use other methods to take care of yourself.'
'I am sorry, I was too harsh on you. I will take this into account when you are with me.'
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 4:21 am
The Drow listened to Marltok's words and was immediately suspicious. True to his race, trust did not come easily for Quilzar, and this sudden change in the goblin didn't make it any easier. First Marltok takes everything that he had once been, then he tried to build him back up? What kind of convoluted way to ******** with him was that? His latest expression was stern and disconnected with the mistrust showing blatently on his features. To him, it seemed to be hours that he was studying Marltok's body language, his demeanor, his expression, everything he could to find an answer as to why the sudden change in opinion.
The thing that rocked him most, however, was the apology. He couldn't remember if anyone had ever said those three words to him before. There were a lot of things that went said and unsaid in the Underdark; apologies were on neither list. Neither had anyone ever told him that they had been too harsh on him. He stood up a little straighter and his brow knitted together a little more.
"What kind game are you playing at? You think you can simply take everything that was of value to me, then try and build me up again? What the are you playing at?" He asked all of this with a tone that said he didn't believe the goblin for a minute. No, strike that. He didn't believe him for a second. There was something conflicting with this feeling though. Something that said it was nice having somone to be nice to him for once. He had to admit, even Shynt'fryn was never this nice. Well, relatively speaking.
"And whatever happened to my status as nothing more than a slut in heat to you? Courage, strength? Ability? What in the Hells do you mean by that?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 4:58 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd The goblin growled. He probably would have started pacing too if he hadn't been bleeding from his damaged leg. He still had his weapon out but he wasn't about to start walking around. If the drow wanted to come to him, so be it. Unless he was attacked Marltok would remain stationary.
'Damnit, man! I'm not playing at anything! If I'd have known your hair was that precious I wouldn't have gone for it. The punishment was too harsh for the crime,' he growled. He was trying to remain clear, sharp and together. He really was. He took a deep breath but his exhaling sounded more like another growl. Actual fighting was easy compared to this.
'Are you wanting compliments? Fine! It took courage to tell a goblin your family is in charge of a goblin slave-trade, you have the strength of a trained warrior and you yourself listed several of your abilities. ********!' the goblin said in a slightly calmer tone, only slightly. As he listed the three qualities he marked them against his fingers. He didn't reply to the slut in heat comment, mostly because he had no answer there. Even as he continued to think on it he couldn't think of an answer. He still thought the man to be a horny b***h but there were things he respected the man for too. Marltok shifted legs then shifted back. If he hadn't been stabbed he would have paced or done something to calm himself down.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 5:29 am
Quilzar was taken aback, not only in a mental sense. He jerked back a bit in surprise when Marltok thought he was fishing for compliments. His mouth parted lightly as he listened to the goblin, surprised to hear what he had to say. The Drow was at a complete loss for things to say. Just his demeanor indicated that he wasn't trying to play any games with Quilzar. How many others could he say that about? He looked towards the floor, wondering why Marltok was suddenly acting this way. Was this how all Surfaceans acted with their slaves? Nevermind, he knew that answer. And he knew it was a two letter word. He took some of his hair in his fingers and twirled to nervously.
"Forgive me Master Marltok. I have never been complimented before for something other than my hair. It is hard to trust that you are not ******** with me at the moment." Quil figured that he may as well play along. He still wasn't sure what to think about the whole thing. Was he telling the truth? Would he truly have left his hair alone had he known it was so important to him? No real way to find out now, that moment had long since passed. There was something strange happening in the Drow's mind; that much was easy to see to just about anyone. It was as if he were slowly learning what it was to finally trust. Not much, but the small bit of warmth conveyed in his eyes was a breakthrough.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 7:00 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd 'Why would I ******** with you? You'd already agreed to serve me,' he grunted, rubbing his forehead and eyes. He really saw no reason do to anything like that. The drow had already agreed to the rules he'd set out. Marltok had no need to "damage" the man. What use would he be then? Besides, there had to be rules against abusing slaves like that, rules he knew he had crossed. It was just a pity Marltok had no connection to Mothernet or his homelands. He'd deliberately left behind any communication devices because he wanted his recovery to be uninterrupted. So much for that. This drow was turning out to be the most frustrating person he'd ever met.
'Unless you have anything else to add go back to your quarters. We both have injuries that need attending,' he said, pulling the door a little wider to get the message across. Marltok had had enough and if they went any further it was likely to get too soft for his taste. By now both men had a fair bit of blood on them too. Marltok was lucky it had been the injured hand that he'd been stabbed with. As he looked up he saw a weird look in the other man's eyes. He frowned, unsure how to take it. Given what how far he'd already pushed the slave he said nothing about it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 23, 2012 3:07 pm
Quilzar was horribly confused. He thought that the question ‘why wouldn’t he ******** with me?’ would be more appropriate. Great Hells. This whole business was becoming much too complicated for Quil. Especially since he couldn’t decide whether Marltok was playing with his mind or not. With a shake of his head, he started heading towards the door. Vaguely, he realized that his shoulder had a heartbeat all its own, that his eyes hurt and his already injured wrist felt heated. Besides that, he wondered if he should try and take the chunk of hair back to his room. He thought about asking Lolth to fix it in exchange for an entire tenday in Hell with her whenever she pleased. At the thought, his birthmark went cold, and then it went silent. Yeah, he figured that was what her answer would be. A resounding ‘******** you’.
The open door was more than a hint, he knew, so he started walking towards it. As he did, he caught the sight of his dagger on the ground where they’d both left it. Figuring he’d better get it, he walked towards it. Once there, he had a chilling thought. As he bent down, his long hair fell into his face, distracting his vision from the dagger. He froze. It’s only hair… he thought without hesitation. He gathered his hair and used a hair tie to bind it tightly about ten centimeters below the nape of his neck. He picked up the dagger and stood slowly, as if contemplating what to do. Perhaps it was like the metaphorical band-aid humans were always talking about. Quickly and with great pain for a few seconds. Before he could stop himself, he set the dagger to his hair above the tie, grabbed the locks with his other hand to pull them tight, and sliced downwards quickly. The motion took a few seconds at the very most, and he was very glad that his dagger was always kept incredibly sharp. His hair was now in two clean cut pieces, the four foot length in his hand and what was on his head
With a deep breath, he shook out his head, and ran his daggered hand through his newly shortened hair. Another deep breath to stop any tears from falling. He bent down to reach through the folds of his robing to put his dagger away. Straightening up, he noted that his head felt strange. With his hair gone, it was as if his entire neck and shoulder region could relax. It was so light now! Quilzar walked towards the door once again, and contemplated giving Marltok his hair. With a furrowed brow, he decided that’s what he was going to do. He hardly thought that Marltok would take it if he tried to give it to him. So he left it on the chair like a shimmering silver water fall against the upholstery.
“It’s yours,” was all he said before he walked out of the room. In a way, he couldn’t help that losing the hair was freeing. As if everything he’d once been could be changed just as easily. And perhaps it could. Who knew?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2012 3:04 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd Marltok shifted his stance. He couldn't pinpoint it but something felt of when the drow cut off his hair. Marltok hadn't wanted that, not at all. The man had just broken down in front of him and explained how important the hair was to him! He'd made it look so simple for something so ceremonious. It was though it time had slowed down and Marltok had watched the man had gone through some ceremony. Any slower and Marltok would have been able to see each expression on the man's face as he thought each though. Even so, he couldn't tell what in the world Quilzar was thinking. The drow's hair made him special or something and now he was cutting it off?! Why? Such a gift bore a lot of weight. He didn't know what the significance of it was but he knew there was something. It was too big, too important. It didn't fit into Marltok's own sense of logic.
The goblin grunted. It was the most intelligent reply he could come up with, considering most of his replies demanded to know what Quilzar was trying to accomplish. He didn't believe there was any malice in the drow's actions but he still didn't like it one bit. He couldn't return it either because of he weight it held and how far he had already pushed the slave. Needless to say, it would take the goblin a long time to process such a symbolic action.
When the drow left Marltok closed and locked the door. He walked over to the hair and stared at it for a few moments but did not touch it. He tucked the chunk in with the ponytail. It was over a meter long! How long had the man been growing it out - only to cut it off in a single action. Marltok groaned and rubbed his face. This was too heavy for him to decide upon right now. He'd deal with it later, after he'd stitched up the stab wound and cleaned up the blood that now covered his pants and floor. Instead, Maltok trudged up the stairs to get his medical kit from the wardrobe in his bedroom.
As he examined his pants and the wound beneath the hole, Marltok noted a clot had started to form. It meant he'd have to soak it in warm water in order to separate the cloth from the wound without pulling off the clot and reopening it. After that was done he sprayed the wound with antiseptic. b*****d son of a dwarf! It hurt like a b***h but not nearly as much as war wounds, of which he still had several scars from. He still had one stab scar on his left thigh from an inter-horde war that was nowhere near as bad as this. When he'd finished sewing and bandaging his wound he left his pants to soak in a sink full of warm water, pulled on a fresh pair then went to clean up all the blood that had spilled cross his floor. Marltok swore when it realised there was blood on his braided hemp rug. He had no idea how to get that out so he hoped soapy water would do. It worked for the most part but there was still a watermark and slight colouring to the largest spot.
After that he sat across from the hair and thought. He was conflicted in a way he'd never experienced before. What do to with it? Where to put it? He couldn't sell it. He couldn't throw it out. Either option would be spitting at the man. He didn't even know if the drow would want it back. Marltok certainly didn't want to keep it. He didn't know what he'd do with it and he didn't know where to put it either. Leaving it on the couch would just torment him. Marltok growled in frustration. The more he stared at the thing the less clear his thoughts became. Eventually he just got up and made his way out into the forest. He needed a walk and he needed some food in him. Goblins only ate at the end of the day because their food tended to sit heavy in the stomach. While sleeping was an easier time for their stomachs to digest the rocks, bones and other hard materials they called 'food".
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2012 1:45 am
Quilzar lowered his weapon and tried to keep his body from shaking too awfully much when Marltok lowered his. He inclined his head in a small bow when he heard the command to be back at the dojo in two hours. Watching Marltok walk off gave him an idea however. He wasn't sure how well the goblin would take to the idea, but he supposed it would be worth a try. The Drow gathered his weapons, his brace and bag and headed back to his room for barely enough time for a quick change of bandage and clothes and a quick wash. He left his sling on his bed, having the feeling he wouldn't need it much.
He looked at a few of the bottles and vials he had in his bathing room, taking some of them and smelling the contents until he'd found three that he thought might be useful. With these in hand, he headed towards Marltok's room. He realized that it probably wasn't the smartest idea to make his own care so quick, but what did he matter? He noticed a small twinge in his right foot as he walked. Great, now it was more than obvious that he focused on kicks during that battle. He'd have to be careful against using them too much in the next sparring match.
He finally got to the door, and he paused for a moment before knocking lightly at the door. Patiently, he waited for Marltok to either ignore him, or answer the door.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2012 2:15 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd It was only a few minutes since starting the massage and Marltok's leg was in a full-blown seizure. He had it pinned down with both hands but with the way it was bucking it would need two men to keep it still. It was a little frustrating but the goblin had expected this. That sparring had been the first fight since the dwarven attack and with two seizures a day he'd been lucky to last the hour. What frustrated him most about the whole thing was the slice to his thigh. If it hadn't been for his failure to withdraw he would have been able to ride out the convulsions in the forest behind the dojo. It was only a bit of blood but it meant he had to retreat to his room so he could fix it up, which he couldn't even do until that damned leg stopped ******** off!' the goblin shouted, mostly to carry his voice and get his point across. He was assuming Quilzar had followed him. Who else would be knocking on his door "ever so softly"? He was in no mood to take that drow's s**t right now. Whatever the man's problem, it could wait.
There were no lights on anywhere in the house; Martok didn't need them. Goblins could see in all but the darkest of conditions due to the tapeta lucida in their eyes. The only thing different to the last time Quilzar had entered was the long, silver ponytail that sat on the stone bench in front of the fire. Marltok wasn't in the living room though, he was in the bathroom sitting on the stone floor using the spa as something to brace his back against. The bathmat had been kicked aside by his wayward leg. He hadn't even made a start on getting anything out to take care of himself with because he was still dealing with the damned thing. As such, the other leg had lost a handsome amount of blood.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2012 2:36 am
Quilzar rolled his eyes. What was is about strictly fighters that made them think they had to handle everything by themselves? Didn't Marltok know that his well being was now partially the responsibility of his slave? Hmm, '******** off', an indirect order. Push, or don't push? ******** it. Quilzar felt like pushing it on this one. He checked the door to see if it was unlocked and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was. Walking in, he was glad to see that the rooms were dark today. Now at least he could use his darkvision and be that much more comfortable. Shortly after slamming the door to announce his entrance, he responded with the same sort of vinegar that Marltok had.
"Oh shut the ******** up." He went to find Marltok only to see the convulsions the leg was going through. Putting his cargo on the counter, he remained calm as he put strong hands down on the leg to help Marltok keep it down. He knew that anything that spasmed this much would damage itself if it wasn't kept down. And anything of that sort would destroy Quilzar's current purpose in Marltok's room. The twitches and bucks jolted Quil's arm against his shoulder. Grimacing and closing his eyes against it, he kept his mouth shut and just continued until the spasms stopped. No use crying over it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 09, 2012 3:12 am
Marltok Hefeielldaen Nibulkin Bekkenüdd As soon as the seizure was over Marltok grabbed Quilzar's shirt, pulled him forward and punched him in the face. In true goblin style, he then stated why, 'I ordered you to ******** off and you spoke back to me.'
'Go fix yourself up out of my quarters. You've done enough,' Marltok ordered. He didn't particularly like the idea of punching an already injured slave, especially after the man had tried to help him and he'd already disciplined the man once. He'd most likely be conflicted if he chose to again. The man had done himself harm to assist goblin. Quilzar deserved Marltok's respect for that. No. If the drow said or did anything else stupid, Marltok would not retaliate. Within reason, Marltok corrected himself. He wasn't going to let the man run circles around him.
Marltok sat back and relaxed a moment before putting his brace into place and strapping it back up. He then reattached the ironwood dirk back to the brace. there was no point hiding it, Quilzar would have already seen it. He wasn't game to massage it again just yet, especially with that drow around. He'd do it later that night if needed or more likely he'd spend some time in he spa with a bottle of spice wine liqueur.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
