He would wipe his eyes from his laughing and stretch his arms out Bove his head lazily, then sit back and pat his stomach as if full from the tiny dessert. When in a true mortal form(for example at he beginning of a possession of a new body) however, the man could easily down huge meals at any given time. "takes too long to get a ship to the mainland and back with horses. I was wanting to leave tomorrow, in the morning before I gets too hot. At he latest, the day after that. My employer insisted this be dealt with quickly. I was worried I'd have to do this alone.. But now I have you to play lAckey for me." he jested and ran a hand though his hair.
"humans are always babbling on about that stuff. If it happens, let it happen. I personally think I hve lived long enough and would go quietly to whatever end offered. Not that I would want to kill over right this moment but in a few years I would like to finally 'rest.' a century and a half is plenty of living for me." he would miss quietly hen stand. "Now I know I offered the drinks myself but now I must ask to require something of you..." he would say and beckon for him to stand. Whether or not he did, the demon would thrust his arms around his ribs and suddenly lift him off he floor in a massive, crushing hug. He would laugh and heft him up and down once before settighim back down less than gracefully. Why? Just. To mess with Hra, that much was Written on his face.
"humans are always babbling on about that stuff. If it happens, let it happen. I personally think I hve lived long enough and would go quietly to whatever end offered. Not that I would want to kill over right this moment but in a few years I would like to finally 'rest.' a century and a half is plenty of living for me." he would miss quietly hen stand. "Now I know I offered the drinks myself but now I must ask to require something of you..." he would say and beckon for him to stand. Whether or not he did, the demon would thrust his arms around his ribs and suddenly lift him off he floor in a massive, crushing hug. He would laugh and heft him up and down once before settighim back down less than gracefully. Why? Just. To mess with Hra, that much was Written on his face.
Hramn so politely flipped him the bird at the 'lackey' part. "I'm helping out of curiousity and the need to do something." Anything to distract the beast, and a little burial work was nothing that he suspected would rouse the creature again. Plus he wanted to give the rat-man some space for a few days, given how he had nearly attacked the Kapitan on their first meeting back - not the sort of first impression one really enjoys making at any one time. "Not really. A day, half a day. Half a day there, half a day to find a decent horse, half the night and you are back by the next morning." Of course that meant pulling an 'all nighter', but that wouldn't be the first time.
He stood warily, hackles metaphorically up... then when the hug came, his back went stiff as a ramrod, his eyes widened and he honestly.. didn't know what to do. Shocked, surprised, and instinctively wanting to lash out at the sudden invasion of his personal space. When set down, the shock lingered... then a half-assed scowl appeared and he aimed a solid punch for one of the demon's upper arms. "Bastard."
He stood warily, hackles metaphorically up... then when the hug came, his back went stiff as a ramrod, his eyes widened and he honestly.. didn't know what to do. Shocked, surprised, and instinctively wanting to lash out at the sudden invasion of his personal space. When set down, the shock lingered... then a half-assed scowl appeared and he aimed a solid punch for one of the demon's upper arms. "Bastard."
Spaniard would grin and give a friendly chuckle, dusting himself off from having been in such close proximity with Hramn. "That is as well and good. I still have a lackey." He joked once more and pondered the times as he paced lightly. "That would take all night. Not that I mind going 24/7, I have before many times in the past without break but it is rather tasking, but it seems like I have no other alternative. I will go alone on that case then, and meet you by the docks in two days time? I will tell my employer when to have the box delivered. I saw we should meet at roughly oh-five-hundred so we can possibly get there and back before it gets too unbearable outside. Hopefully it will still be remotely cool when we start digging. Is this applicable to your schedule?"
The punch would bring another grin and a laugh, and he dusting off his shoulder. "Oh stop being such a prude. Besides, everyone knows how much you love being manhandled by other large men." Not that he could say much to defend himself against that accusation, however... but he was finally on terms with his feelings and position in he and Verbrechen's relationship, as convoluted as it was. "Not that I have any room to talk." He muttered as he took out a cigar, saying it mostly just so Hramn couldn't.
The punch would bring another grin and a laugh, and he dusting off his shoulder. "Oh stop being such a prude. Besides, everyone knows how much you love being manhandled by other large men." Not that he could say much to defend himself against that accusation, however... but he was finally on terms with his feelings and position in he and Verbrechen's relationship, as convoluted as it was. "Not that I have any room to talk." He muttered as he took out a cigar, saying it mostly just so Hramn couldn't.
Hramn, sharp eared as he was, caught the muttered comment and leapt on it, a brow arching up as a sly smirk took the place of the disgruntled expression that had been there a moment before. He had nodded, and murmured agreement at the suggestion to meet in two days. That gave him time enough to get what weaponry he needed and so forth - safe to say that after what had happened last time he was in the forest, he was taking no precautions in the slightest. "Schedule, what schedule?" With no current contracts til this one, he had nothing to honestly occupy his time with.
"So what's this about other men? Are you seeing someone?" Teasing tone. Hramn had never shown any sexual or romantic interest in the demon and likely never would, but that didn't mean he couldn't jest about it. What were frenimies for after all?
"So what's this about other men? Are you seeing someone?" Teasing tone. Hramn had never shown any sexual or romantic interest in the demon and likely never would, but that didn't mean he couldn't jest about it. What were frenimies for after all?
The demon grinned. "I already said I was. He chuckled, taking out a cigar and lighting it calmly, giving a sickly cough into his shoulder after takinga puff, sounding like he was about to vomit up a lung, his coughing very wet and gross. "Ahem, excuse me. Bit of a cold.."
"Yes, I am." He repeated, clearing his throat and rubbing his jaw. Sho, on the other had, did have a bit of a sexual interest in Hramn, but beyond that? He didn't chose to think about. "Ironically a German ex-military commander like your Dussander. It appears we have similar tastes." In many more ways than one. "You have your Kaptian and I have my Generalleutnant." He boasted, just a little, that his lover was of a higher rank than Hramn's. "Blonde, blue eyed, the works. Nice boy, he is." A hint of a knowing smirk would tug at his lips. "He is an extremely kind heart, but there was a reason he was in the military. Head of interrogations in Paris if I remember correctly." Oh yes, and Verbrechen got to practice those skills frequently."Anyway, "He would try to change subjects before things got too personal. "Good to know that the dates are goood for you. Do you want anything else to eat or drink before I sent the dishes off?"
"Yes, I am." He repeated, clearing his throat and rubbing his jaw. Sho, on the other had, did have a bit of a sexual interest in Hramn, but beyond that? He didn't chose to think about. "Ironically a German ex-military commander like your Dussander. It appears we have similar tastes." In many more ways than one. "You have your Kaptian and I have my Generalleutnant." He boasted, just a little, that his lover was of a higher rank than Hramn's. "Blonde, blue eyed, the works. Nice boy, he is." A hint of a knowing smirk would tug at his lips. "He is an extremely kind heart, but there was a reason he was in the military. Head of interrogations in Paris if I remember correctly." Oh yes, and Verbrechen got to practice those skills frequently."Anyway, "He would try to change subjects before things got too personal. "Good to know that the dates are goood for you. Do you want anything else to eat or drink before I sent the dishes off?"
Hramn's eyes narrowed momentarily at the cough. "That does not sound healthy..." He had little idea of demon physiology however. Generally he only asked two questions; how dangerous was it and how did he kill it, and that was how he had dealt with various hellish beings in the past. Nothing a little holy water wouldn't cure, right? "I thought your kind could not get ill." After all, weren't they immortal to some degree? It made no sense to him to have that longevity only to be felled by something like a common cold.
A brow rose then. "My German is rusty, I've only learnt numbers." And how to say 'yes, sir', but that was truthfully about it. His lips tightened for a moment, and his eyes narrowed for a second. Hramn denied any such bond between him and Dussander - or at least, he had done so since the man had returned briefly. Swaning off again without so much as a note much like last time, the mercenary's mood was once more sliding back into bitterness. "I am guessing that is either a Lieutenant, or a General of some sort?"
He eyed the plates, then shook his head. "This'll do." Namely the bottle of mead.
A brow rose then. "My German is rusty, I've only learnt numbers." And how to say 'yes, sir', but that was truthfully about it. His lips tightened for a moment, and his eyes narrowed for a second. Hramn denied any such bond between him and Dussander - or at least, he had done so since the man had returned briefly. Swaning off again without so much as a note much like last time, the mercenary's mood was once more sliding back into bitterness. "I am guessing that is either a Lieutenant, or a General of some sort?"
He eyed the plates, then shook his head. "This'll do." Namely the bottle of mead.
Waved a hand at him in dismissal. "It is nothing, just a cough. I get them every now and then." Immortal, yes, but only in soul. Bodies withered, as he would explain. "Yes, the body can get sick, just as any other. It can bleed and die.. but our souls cannot. When this body dies, I find another by forcibly ripping the current soul out of the host body and cast it into hell, or heaven, where ever they need to go. In this way we can confuse people, go undercover, and any other benefit of looking and sounding like someone else, even if for a brief period. It takes months for the demon's original form to seep into the one he is currently possesing. However once firmly in place it is easy to switch back and forth, but only the most powerful demons can take two seperate forms at will, and even then it requires gracious amounts of effort." he waved a hand lazily. "And also when the body dies it takes back the original form, as to not have authorities questioning while 10 men for the same exact visage have been buried a years time and so forth." I could go on but that is basically sick. So in truth I could be killed by the flu." He grinned, then hacked once more into his shoulders and would wince, holding his side. "I am fine though. Just the smoke."
"I speak it fairly fluently.. I spent several years in Germany during the war and could already speak a deal before then... and literally it is General-lieutenant, but is the same as a Major, in English. This is what I call him most times." Letting slip that he actually called him Major was more than he had meant to give, but surely innocent, he told himself. "Another bottle." He nodded to the tender before ushering her off with the plates, the demon then taking the opportunity to prop his feet up on the table, crossed over each other, smoking, and givng the occasional muffled cough.
"I speak it fairly fluently.. I spent several years in Germany during the war and could already speak a deal before then... and literally it is General-lieutenant, but is the same as a Major, in English. This is what I call him most times." Letting slip that he actually called him Major was more than he had meant to give, but surely innocent, he told himself. "Another bottle." He nodded to the tender before ushering her off with the plates, the demon then taking the opportunity to prop his feet up on the table, crossed over each other, smoking, and givng the occasional muffled cough.
{ooc: time skip? 
}
Hramn was stood on the beach's edge, right where there was the start of a path leading up into the wild forest of the Tether proper - bypassing the wall cutting off the garden from the rest of the island. He had sent a note ahead to Shojah informing him that he was ready and waiting. Dressed in his usual dull leathers, there was also now the addition of a metal-rimmed pauldron, a metal manica running from the top of his right arm down into wickedly hooked claws, and greaves on his legs. Someone was not taking any chances with spike pits, thank you very much. Sat on top of Arden - a fierce-tempered, high-spirited black warhorse with sleek muscles and feathering around his hooves - it was easy to see why and how the man had earnt himself a reputation in the past.
He had, however, also brought an [npc] slave along. A young canine, perhaps in his early twenties, who looked sullenly, listlessly at him. Ill with a disease with no cure, Hramn had snagged the lad before his death date was due. Not wanting the wagon to fall into a pit through some trap off or on the road, the plan was to send the slave ahead. Due to die anyway through prolonged illness, the slave had briefly stated that at least if he died while in service to Hramn, it would be more of a purpose and wanted end than crippled by disease. Arden snorted, stamping a hoof impatiently.
}Hramn was stood on the beach's edge, right where there was the start of a path leading up into the wild forest of the Tether proper - bypassing the wall cutting off the garden from the rest of the island. He had sent a note ahead to Shojah informing him that he was ready and waiting. Dressed in his usual dull leathers, there was also now the addition of a metal-rimmed pauldron, a metal manica running from the top of his right arm down into wickedly hooked claws, and greaves on his legs. Someone was not taking any chances with spike pits, thank you very much. Sat on top of Arden - a fierce-tempered, high-spirited black warhorse with sleek muscles and feathering around his hooves - it was easy to see why and how the man had earnt himself a reputation in the past.
He had, however, also brought an [npc] slave along. A young canine, perhaps in his early twenties, who looked sullenly, listlessly at him. Ill with a disease with no cure, Hramn had snagged the lad before his death date was due. Not wanting the wagon to fall into a pit through some trap off or on the road, the plan was to send the slave ahead. Due to die anyway through prolonged illness, the slave had briefly stated that at least if he died while in service to Hramn, it would be more of a purpose and wanted end than crippled by disease. Arden snorted, stamping a hoof impatiently.
It had taken Shojah a little longer to get there, but as he rode up in the horse drawn carriage t was apparent why. The wagon had been armed for battle with spiked knee-knockers on he wheels, and the giant box had been strapped heavily with ropes. Sand could be seen leaking out of the cracks and what Hramn would smell would be pure garbage: rotting fruits and meat, feces and urine, and decomposing rats so it seemed. The demon wore heavier armor than he usually did, thick metal plates and black leather. Rather than bringing both weapons he opted for his spiked war hammer, a pistol, and a mace for optimal damage should anything happen and the pistol for emergencies. His hands were barren of armor except for a fingerless leather glove on each with spikes on the knuckles; so hat his claws were free to slash and fists had extra bite when he boxed. Despite what he hAd said earlier about not going into naga lands, it was clear he was expecting trouble.
He rode up with an eye on the slave. "What's he here for? Can't do the job yourself?" he smirked as he pulled the team to a stop. "Are you ready to head out?" he would ask, turning to look at the early pre-light of the sunrise. "it will be light soon, we should get a head start, before it comes up." hardly waiting do. Answer, he would snap the reins a bit awkwardly, confusing the horses and afterglow several seconds of shuffling, got them to move forward.
He rode up with an eye on the slave. "What's he here for? Can't do the job yourself?" he smirked as he pulled the team to a stop. "Are you ready to head out?" he would ask, turning to look at the early pre-light of the sunrise. "it will be light soon, we should get a head start, before it comes up." hardly waiting do. Answer, he would snap the reins a bit awkwardly, confusing the horses and afterglow several seconds of shuffling, got them to move forward.
Hramn eyed the wagon, then briefly exposed his teeth in a sneer at the sight of the spikes before answering. "Would you rather we walk right into a spike pit, likely breaking the wagon, the box and most of our legs?" Not the sort of question that could be answered with a 'yes' at all. He looked towards the slave, then nodded curtly. Best give the man something of a head start. "You look like a tin can. Maybe the naga have can openers." Teasing of course, in reference to the armour. Most of Hramn's was leather, reflecting his preference for agility and maneuverability over being a tank.
Wheeling his horse round in a far smoother motion, he then kicked his heels in and coaxed the animal into a trot that kept him reasonably level although a few lengths in front. "You did bring rations for us on the journey, correct?" He had no aversion to hunting 'on the hoof' as it were, but he did prefer not to simply because he did not know all the flora and fauna of the island and would rather not consume something poisonous by accident.
Wheeling his horse round in a far smoother motion, he then kicked his heels in and coaxed the animal into a trot that kept him reasonably level although a few lengths in front. "You did bring rations for us on the journey, correct?" He had no aversion to hunting 'on the hoof' as it were, but he did prefer not to simply because he did not know all the flora and fauna of the island and would rather not consume something poisonous by accident.
Sho would roll his eyes in answer to the rhetorical questions and trot onward, watching the canine run off ahead. "But that's what I have you for." He smirked in jest, and looked down at his metal and leather combination armor. "Well, I won't boast about being agile or light on my feet because I am not. Even in dancing, I prefer the firmer, more hard movements than anything graceful. You on the other hand still look like a fairy as always." Big grin and a snort. He had to at least get one in to start the day off right.
"Honestly." Sho gave him a very patronizing 'are you serious' look. "You expect me, a being who only eats food because he wants to and not because he has to, to bring food?" A pause, letting that sink in before nodding. "Yes, I did, for you. Just in case you decided to be a moron or forget. Also brought some whiskey in case things get boring. Speaking of." Flask would be snatched from waistband and brought to his mouth, setting him into a sudden, harsh fit of coughs and left him wheezing viciously. HE would hack then, turn his head to the side to spit and would end up vomiting a little. "Damn it all.. I'm fine. Just.. queasy... nausea I think.." He waved it off, as if Hramn would care.. There was no way he could call in sick now, even though his face, and especially the palms of his hands that were normally pink, were a sickly yellow-orange color. "Ahem. Carry on." But from that point on, his breath was rather wheezy.
"Honestly." Sho gave him a very patronizing 'are you serious' look. "You expect me, a being who only eats food because he wants to and not because he has to, to bring food?" A pause, letting that sink in before nodding. "Yes, I did, for you. Just in case you decided to be a moron or forget. Also brought some whiskey in case things get boring. Speaking of." Flask would be snatched from waistband and brought to his mouth, setting him into a sudden, harsh fit of coughs and left him wheezing viciously. HE would hack then, turn his head to the side to spit and would end up vomiting a little. "Damn it all.. I'm fine. Just.. queasy... nausea I think.." He waved it off, as if Hramn would care.. There was no way he could call in sick now, even though his face, and especially the palms of his hands that were normally pink, were a sickly yellow-orange color. "Ahem. Carry on." But from that point on, his breath was rather wheezy.
Hramn's eyes narrowed then. Not at the coughing at first, but at the vomit, he dismounted. Grabbing Shojah by the scruff of the neck if he could reach up that high, he made to sharply yank the man sideways - bringing him nearer to eye level, with a snarl on his face. "You're fucking ill. What are you going to do if you suddenly break into a coughing fit in the middle of a fight? I'm no god damn doctor. What's wrong with you?"
Seems like someone wanted answers, and he wanted them now.
Seems like someone wanted answers, and he wanted them now.
Shojah would give a startled jerk as Hramn came charging over and dragged him down to his level, making him wheeze while those hands clenched his collar. "I've had something like it before.." He admitted, coughing off to the side. "It probably.. ain't contagious if it's what I think it is... when I got sick like this.. usually means I got liver disease..." Not giving a reason as to why for fear Hramn would take his booze away. "Meaning.. won't die anytime soon. Probably gunna die. But it will be.. several more weeks of horrific pain, that is if my heart doesn't give out first or I get stabbed in the gut by a naga." He wheezed. "Takes.. long time for this thing to really settle. Meaning I've been sick with this for months already." He would jerk his head away and dust off his collar. "Besides, if things get really severe I can always transform and fight them off so you can escape and whatnot. Its not like it matters if I die unless you get left out here alone, am I fight? I'm fine. Just a little woozy. IT comes and goes.
Hramn, with no qualms about holding a demon of all things in such a threatening position, finally let go. "I don't give a fuck if it's contagious." He had a niggling suspicion that the monster in residence in his body - and to a greater extent, his head - had some sort of precaution for ensuring that he died only when it wanted him to. God knows that even if he was ever killed, it would probably animate him like a puppet of flesh, bone and sinew. He ground his teeth together at the news. That however, once Shojah freed himself, was when he resorted to the most under-handed, guilt-tripping method he knew.
"So you don't give a fuck that this lover of yours has to witness you die?" His voice was laden with nothing short of disgust. "You keep up whatever the hell habit it is of yours that fuels this, knowing that he'll see the effect it has on you? Knowing that he will see you die? Be damned to the fact you can regenerate a new body, seeing a lover die is the most unpleasant effin' thing anyone can witness. You don't get 'used to it'." Then, he swiftly remounted, kicked his heels in and wheeled the horse around to set off at a brisk trot down the track.
"So you don't give a fuck that this lover of yours has to witness you die?" His voice was laden with nothing short of disgust. "You keep up whatever the hell habit it is of yours that fuels this, knowing that he'll see the effect it has on you? Knowing that he will see you die? Be damned to the fact you can regenerate a new body, seeing a lover die is the most unpleasant effin' thing anyone can witness. You don't get 'used to it'." Then, he swiftly remounted, kicked his heels in and wheeled the horse around to set off at a brisk trot down the track.
Shojah was not expecting such a response from him, and he didn't have any words to combat it, never mind trying to get them in before Hramn ran off. Shockingly, he had never thought of it that way, and fell back into the wagon after snapping the reins to get the horses going again. He had already died twice while in Ver's company.. but they had been sudden, and Sho was able to hide himself from Ver .. but seeing him die slowly and being unable to stop it? The demon felt a weight in his chest now. But he bit it back and rode on.
He stayed quiet for about an hour, and by this time the sun was getting higher, and the heat was sweltering already. So far, no incidents. The day was oddly clam and stagnant, and this made the demon uneasy. Cracking his neck and giving a lethargic stretch, he would cup his hands around his mouth and call up ahead. "Is the way clear still? Call your dog back if you want to stop!"
He stayed quiet for about an hour, and by this time the sun was getting higher, and the heat was sweltering already. So far, no incidents. The day was oddly clam and stagnant, and this made the demon uneasy. Cracking his neck and giving a lethargic stretch, he would cup his hands around his mouth and call up ahead. "Is the way clear still? Call your dog back if you want to stop!"
Hramn had not bothered talking to him since. Let the demon chew on his words for a while. Hramn, had lost three lovers. Two that he could remember at least; one shot, and the other knifed. Both had been 'honourable' deaths in combat, but the impact had both times not hit him until after he had gotten away from the site of battle. The wedding ring on his left hand, remained the sole sign of his attachment despite all of his memories being void, gone and destroyed.
He heard the shout however, and retrieved a dog whistle of all things from his pocket. The slave came back, and nodded once. "The way is clear." He wheeled the horse around and came back until he was level with the carriage again. "Stopping for a break, or are we are enough in to get rid of the package?"
He heard the shout however, and retrieved a dog whistle of all things from his pocket. The slave came back, and nodded once. "The way is clear." He wheeled the horse around and came back until he was level with the carriage again. "Stopping for a break, or are we are enough in to get rid of the package?"
Sho had lost his fair share of lovers over the past century on the half, and could have probably sympathize if either man could ever conceive of actually having a meaningful conversation with the other. One from old age, he had outlived them, staying by their side until the frail little thing died in his sleep at age 89, when Shojah was already 120. Several others to the war, disease.. he had even strangled one to death with his own hands. But those were painful memories.
"Just a break." He called, stopping the horses on the path and looking behind him, still able to see the Tether for the most part. "Need to go a little further in before we start digging. Maybe we can find a hole or a cave to put it in, would be better." He would shrug, open flask and start to put it to his lips before giving a scowl and replacing it without taking a drink. "If you or the dog is hungry, the knapsack's in the back." He rolled his shoulders, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back, taking a rag out of his pocket to wipe his forehead.
"Just a break." He called, stopping the horses on the path and looking behind him, still able to see the Tether for the most part. "Need to go a little further in before we start digging. Maybe we can find a hole or a cave to put it in, would be better." He would shrug, open flask and start to put it to his lips before giving a scowl and replacing it without taking a drink. "If you or the dog is hungry, the knapsack's in the back." He rolled his shoulders, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back, taking a rag out of his pocket to wipe his forehead.
Hramn had never killed one out of spite, but had 'mercy killed' one after the half-elf had taken a bullet to the spine in the middle of a firefight. In a world where fancy surgery was out of the window and aftercare cost more than he could make in a lifetime, shooting him in the skull had been the kindest thing to do. Watching the mercenary then hurl himself into the enemy lines with his claws, knife and teeth out had likely been one of the more memorable points of his bloody career.
He nodded slightly, and the dog was soon at his proverbial heels. But then he shook his head. "A cave would be too obvious. There are groups of adventurers at the Tether, I was hired by one a few months ago that took us into the mountains..." He made a vague gesture towards the snow-capped things. That had been interesting to say the least, and the female sorceress had been one of the few that had managed to earn his respect in less than a day - mostly by holding her own, both with him verbally and with the enemy assaults.
He got out the knapsack, and passed out some roughly made meat buns. Spiced boar, delicious. He tore his into portions with his clawed hands, after remounting his horse.
He nodded slightly, and the dog was soon at his proverbial heels. But then he shook his head. "A cave would be too obvious. There are groups of adventurers at the Tether, I was hired by one a few months ago that took us into the mountains..." He made a vague gesture towards the snow-capped things. That had been interesting to say the least, and the female sorceress had been one of the few that had managed to earn his respect in less than a day - mostly by holding her own, both with him verbally and with the enemy assaults.
He got out the knapsack, and passed out some roughly made meat buns. Spiced boar, delicious. He tore his into portions with his clawed hands, after remounting his horse.
[Attack within the next few posts, just heads up]
Shojah had, on several occasions, and wasn't proud of most of them but.. it came with the territory of being a demon. The lover he had strangled, for example, they had gotten into a fight on how to raise their adoptive son.. the argument had been boiling for a while and then erupted, and after many heated words between the two short-tempered men, the Greek lover had taken a knife out of the kitchen drawer and promptly stabbed it into Shojah's neck. So, Shojah had strangled him to death. Possibly a little extreme but effective. He raised the boy alone. It happened. Such horrible business it was. Horrible.
"True." He nodded, scratching his bearded jaw. "A little too open as well.. what a chore it's going to be to bury it though." he sighed, clearing his throat and watching the other man eat. "Why on earth you would agree to go into those damnable mountians is beyond me.. they're crawling with vikings." He laughed and rubbed his recently healed gut-wound where Leofrik had impaled him. Then there was the huge gash up his spine where Ulfrik had tried to rip him from ass to neck. "Just a little further then, he nodded, swatting flies off his pair's flanks before giving a final stretch, and unable to withstand the temptation, took a small swig of the whiskey at his side. He might not be able to quit right off the bat, but maybe he could moderate himself.. would be slightly difficult however after being an alcoholic for almost 150 years.
"What is that there?" He asked, jabbing a finger at the boar meat Hramn was eating. "Is that any good?" He would question, before looking to the sickly dog. "You thirsty, pup? Gotta canteen of water around here somewhere.
Shojah had, on several occasions, and wasn't proud of most of them but.. it came with the territory of being a demon. The lover he had strangled, for example, they had gotten into a fight on how to raise their adoptive son.. the argument had been boiling for a while and then erupted, and after many heated words between the two short-tempered men, the Greek lover had taken a knife out of the kitchen drawer and promptly stabbed it into Shojah's neck. So, Shojah had strangled him to death. Possibly a little extreme but effective. He raised the boy alone. It happened. Such horrible business it was. Horrible.
"True." He nodded, scratching his bearded jaw. "A little too open as well.. what a chore it's going to be to bury it though." he sighed, clearing his throat and watching the other man eat. "Why on earth you would agree to go into those damnable mountians is beyond me.. they're crawling with vikings." He laughed and rubbed his recently healed gut-wound where Leofrik had impaled him. Then there was the huge gash up his spine where Ulfrik had tried to rip him from ass to neck. "Just a little further then, he nodded, swatting flies off his pair's flanks before giving a final stretch, and unable to withstand the temptation, took a small swig of the whiskey at his side. He might not be able to quit right off the bat, but maybe he could moderate himself.. would be slightly difficult however after being an alcoholic for almost 150 years.
"What is that there?" He asked, jabbing a finger at the boar meat Hramn was eating. "Is that any good?" He would question, before looking to the sickly dog. "You thirsty, pup? Gotta canteen of water around here somewhere.
Hramn sneered. "The Ulfriksons?" The tone of his voice, got across his opinion. Then again, he had also been on the recieving end of the weapons of one of them; Ulfrik's sword had once punctured one of his lungs, and his thigh. Only medical attention had prevented him from bleeding out. Monster in his head or not, he was still damnably mortal. "Actually the only thing me and the seeress encountered were a tribe of rat-like creatures. She also didn't remember to warn me about the serpent spirit that was inside the artefact she was retrieving either."
He caught the whiff of the whisky and, while he didn't swat the flask out of his hand, he did let out a distinctly loud, rumbling snarl to indicate his disapproval. But he was 'permitting' the demon a small drink. Going 'cold turkey' was unpleasant, something he knew from experience. He paused, then tossed a spare bun retrieved from his sack towards the man - thankfully the food was wrapped up in brown paper to prevent it from falling apart mid-flight.
The slave looked at him, then nodded. "Thank you, Master, a drink would be good."
[Awesome (:<]
He caught the whiff of the whisky and, while he didn't swat the flask out of his hand, he did let out a distinctly loud, rumbling snarl to indicate his disapproval. But he was 'permitting' the demon a small drink. Going 'cold turkey' was unpleasant, something he knew from experience. He paused, then tossed a spare bun retrieved from his sack towards the man - thankfully the food was wrapped up in brown paper to prevent it from falling apart mid-flight.
The slave looked at him, then nodded. "Thank you, Master, a drink would be good."
[Awesome (:<]
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