FoxWriter
Cluster
- Joined
- Jan 20, 2011
- Location
- in the realm of lust and seduction
It hurt, everything hurt, the world was nothing but hurt. It was like a hundred thousand knives driving into him all at once... only he wasn't sure why. Where had the pain come from? What had happened? He couldn't remember, it was hard to think through the pain. He had gone to Ireland under his Uncles orders. His Uncle, the King of Cornwall... something about a War? Or was it a battle? Did it matter when everything HURT so badly!? No, it didn't matter. He had been fighting... something had burst next to him, oil probably, and it had caught fire later when a torch had fallen on him... ok, that explained some of the pain, he was covered in viscous burns. He had gone forward into the battle and found the Queen of Ireland's Champion. A man who was as much of a brute on the battlefield as he himself was. They had been fighting, and then... and then... that damn bastard had run him through! So that's why he was in such pain, the Other Champion had stabbed him in the chest, out through the back... but he'd taken the others head. Had killed the other Champion when no one had been there to see, and now he was dying himself. How... lucky.
He could feel hands on him, and recognized one set. His friend and fellow Soldier, Aramus was trying to stop the bleeding. He could feel the pain spiking as those hands pressed down on the bleeding wound, but Tristan was not stupid. Tristan was all too aware that no one survived being run through. Even if they stopped the bleeding, infection would set in. he was dead, either from bleeding out, or from fever. He hoped he would bleed to death, he didn't want his chest to rot while he was still alive thank you very much. He couldn't stop the cry of pain from leaving his lips as whatever he was laying on jerked violently to a stop, and he was suddenly aware that his leg was broken... when had that happened?! He could faintly hear Aramus screaming, no doubt bitching at the driver of the cart, and he could feel hands picking him up. He could only scream again in pain as things in his body shifted the way they weren't supposed to. He just wished that he could die already. Why wouldn't Aramus just kill him already!? Hadn't they promised each other!? He was unaware of hope sitting right next to him... the Lady Isolt, Aramus had taken him to the Queen whose Champion he had just killed... the Lady Isolt, who was famous for her heavenly powers, and the ability to heal almost anything. Tristan would survive, or so they could only hope.
He could feel hands on him, and recognized one set. His friend and fellow Soldier, Aramus was trying to stop the bleeding. He could feel the pain spiking as those hands pressed down on the bleeding wound, but Tristan was not stupid. Tristan was all too aware that no one survived being run through. Even if they stopped the bleeding, infection would set in. he was dead, either from bleeding out, or from fever. He hoped he would bleed to death, he didn't want his chest to rot while he was still alive thank you very much. He couldn't stop the cry of pain from leaving his lips as whatever he was laying on jerked violently to a stop, and he was suddenly aware that his leg was broken... when had that happened?! He could faintly hear Aramus screaming, no doubt bitching at the driver of the cart, and he could feel hands picking him up. He could only scream again in pain as things in his body shifted the way they weren't supposed to. He just wished that he could die already. Why wouldn't Aramus just kill him already!? Hadn't they promised each other!? He was unaware of hope sitting right next to him... the Lady Isolt, Aramus had taken him to the Queen whose Champion he had just killed... the Lady Isolt, who was famous for her heavenly powers, and the ability to heal almost anything. Tristan would survive, or so they could only hope.