Nightal 11
Give Me a 20 or Give Me Death! :: In the Footsteps of Her Choosen :: In the Footsteps of Her Choosen :: Silverymoon, the first few days
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Re: Nightal 11
((OOC: He's like 6 foot. I vaguely remember him being one of, if not the tallest. If I'm wrong I'm sorry.)
Malark folds his arms across his chest as he listens to Ulochs lesson plan. A small grin slides onto his face as he nods his head. "I will honor your request." Moving to the fire, the monk slowly draws out the brand and watches its glow red in the air. "I suggest you lie down for this." While the grin on his face remains small, it has now moved to his eyes and is baring its teeth in delight. "This is going to hurt." Malark waits for Uloch to ready himself, and takes up a position to Uloch's left side so that he can get a good angle over his heart. "Are you ready?" The small grin has changed into a sadistic grin. When Uloch indicates he is ready, the monk plunges the hot brand into his flesh and holds it there for a while. The smell of burning meat fills the air.
Malark folds his arms across his chest as he listens to Ulochs lesson plan. A small grin slides onto his face as he nods his head. "I will honor your request." Moving to the fire, the monk slowly draws out the brand and watches its glow red in the air. "I suggest you lie down for this." While the grin on his face remains small, it has now moved to his eyes and is baring its teeth in delight. "This is going to hurt." Malark waits for Uloch to ready himself, and takes up a position to Uloch's left side so that he can get a good angle over his heart. "Are you ready?" The small grin has changed into a sadistic grin. When Uloch indicates he is ready, the monk plunges the hot brand into his flesh and holds it there for a while. The smell of burning meat fills the air.
"With each kill I grow wiser, and with added wisdom I grow stronger."—Artemis Entreri

Malark- Posts : 45
Joined : 19 Dec 2007
Age : 25
Location : wandering around, carving small wooden figuers, and scaring smaller beings.
Re: Nightal 11
Uloch locks his eyes on a spot on the ceiling and braces for the hot brand. His body tenses as the iron presses against his skin, but his gaze remains steady. After a few seconds he begins rapidly clenching and unclenching his hands and a trickle of blood runs down from his mouth as he bites his tongue to keep from crying out. When Malark finishes and pulls the iron away Uloch pulls himself up to a seated position against the wall and begins to breathe heavily and look down at the new mark on his chest. "Thank you brother," Uloch says as he gasps for air. "Your assistance is most appreciated."





