Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
18.Aug.12, 03:52 AM
With the agony of the first slash seeping into his very core, Sanderon tried to focus his mind away from his pain with little success. He begged silently for the next nine stripes to be given quickly but it was not to be. Lymsleia and her misplaced championing of the 'stolen' reared it's ugly head yet again. Making his punishment...no, his torture, delayed and thus much worse.
It was insane. He was about to yell at her to shut up and so was completely caught off guard by the crack of the whip for the second time. It sliced even more deeply than the first. He had not had a chance to brace himself for it and his cry that resulted this time was louder and filled with his anguish. It was humiliating. It also did not help that the skin of his wrists were becoming quite raw as well when he jerked against his restraints yet again.
Sweat came onto his brow as he braced himself this time and waited again for the third. 'Please be quick.' He silently begged. He was made to wait again though and his tense back muscles screamed with sick anticipation.
SNAP!
There was the third strike. He did not cry out this time... Thankfully. Seven more to go and he was not only bleeding freely down his back now but his wrists were beginning to show signs of injury too. 'Please...please be quick.' These words began to be his silent and constant plea.
To Sanderon it seemed as if N'gelt was taking his lashing way too slowly and wondered if perhaps the man was reveling in the pain he was causing. "Get it done already..." Sanderon growled lowly through grinding teeth to the man behind whom he could not see.
Was N'gelt just waiting for the perfect opportunity? The point when Sanderon was unbraced and unprepared? It sure felt that way. As the fourth ripping of his bloody flesh occurred, Sanderon jerked terribly and this time his wrists did begin to bleed.
By the time the eighth one came, Sanderon's body was sweated, bloody and about to pass out from the cruel torture of his mind and flesh. He couldn't go on. He just couldn't!
SNAP!
With the ninth strike, Sanderon could hold back no longer. With his eyes darkening, he roared out strongly and slowly fell limp with his head resting against one of his arms. His full weight now being held by his shredded wrists. His own roar sounded more powerful than he ever thought it could. So delirious with pain was he that he did not realized right away that his own roar had been masked by Ronarth, D'ren's bronze dragon. And his eyes growing dark was the bronze's shadow above the square before he landed. He wished for the peace of unconsciousness but for some reason his mind would not let go.
When he began to hear the voice of D'ren, Sanderon did not even have the strength to be enraged. The more he heard though the more his mind grew deeply confused. D'ren was on his side? On the side of the stolen? Was this all some added cruelty on the part of the leadership? It was horrible.
When a moment of intense silence fell, he could hear someone's soft weeping. Lifting his head only by a fraction, he opened one tear-filled eye to search out who it might be, only to see that it was the man that had been directly responsible for his original capture. I'shan. What was he crying about? It couldn't be Sanderon the man was sniffling over. So what? As soon as these questions entered his mind, he let them go.
It was unimportant. Sanderon lowered his head again and just concentrated on breathing and listening to the monumental words he now heard again coming forth through D'ren's mouth.
He was actually apologizing? Had Sanderon gone mental and was now hallucinating? It didn't seem that way.
He couldn't listen to every word but he did noticed when his bloody wrists were loosened from their cutting restraints. He collapsed into who ever it was that now had his arm across their shoulders. Raising his head to take a look would take too much effort but he had a good idea of who it was that now led him mercifully away.
The tenth whip stroke never fell.
It was insane. He was about to yell at her to shut up and so was completely caught off guard by the crack of the whip for the second time. It sliced even more deeply than the first. He had not had a chance to brace himself for it and his cry that resulted this time was louder and filled with his anguish. It was humiliating. It also did not help that the skin of his wrists were becoming quite raw as well when he jerked against his restraints yet again.
Sweat came onto his brow as he braced himself this time and waited again for the third. 'Please be quick.' He silently begged. He was made to wait again though and his tense back muscles screamed with sick anticipation.
SNAP!
There was the third strike. He did not cry out this time... Thankfully. Seven more to go and he was not only bleeding freely down his back now but his wrists were beginning to show signs of injury too. 'Please...please be quick.' These words began to be his silent and constant plea.
To Sanderon it seemed as if N'gelt was taking his lashing way too slowly and wondered if perhaps the man was reveling in the pain he was causing. "Get it done already..." Sanderon growled lowly through grinding teeth to the man behind whom he could not see.
Was N'gelt just waiting for the perfect opportunity? The point when Sanderon was unbraced and unprepared? It sure felt that way. As the fourth ripping of his bloody flesh occurred, Sanderon jerked terribly and this time his wrists did begin to bleed.
By the time the eighth one came, Sanderon's body was sweated, bloody and about to pass out from the cruel torture of his mind and flesh. He couldn't go on. He just couldn't!
SNAP!
With the ninth strike, Sanderon could hold back no longer. With his eyes darkening, he roared out strongly and slowly fell limp with his head resting against one of his arms. His full weight now being held by his shredded wrists. His own roar sounded more powerful than he ever thought it could. So delirious with pain was he that he did not realized right away that his own roar had been masked by Ronarth, D'ren's bronze dragon. And his eyes growing dark was the bronze's shadow above the square before he landed. He wished for the peace of unconsciousness but for some reason his mind would not let go.
When he began to hear the voice of D'ren, Sanderon did not even have the strength to be enraged. The more he heard though the more his mind grew deeply confused. D'ren was on his side? On the side of the stolen? Was this all some added cruelty on the part of the leadership? It was horrible.
When a moment of intense silence fell, he could hear someone's soft weeping. Lifting his head only by a fraction, he opened one tear-filled eye to search out who it might be, only to see that it was the man that had been directly responsible for his original capture. I'shan. What was he crying about? It couldn't be Sanderon the man was sniffling over. So what? As soon as these questions entered his mind, he let them go.
It was unimportant. Sanderon lowered his head again and just concentrated on breathing and listening to the monumental words he now heard again coming forth through D'ren's mouth.
He was actually apologizing? Had Sanderon gone mental and was now hallucinating? It didn't seem that way.
He couldn't listen to every word but he did noticed when his bloody wrists were loosened from their cutting restraints. He collapsed into who ever it was that now had his arm across their shoulders. Raising his head to take a look would take too much effort but he had a good idea of who it was that now led him mercifully away.
The tenth whip stroke never fell.
