Wind.
This was who he was, and who he struggled so hard to embody in every form, the sweeping, unyielding, brutal gust that tears away homes and families in one fell swoop.
This was his foot, braced against the crumbling dirt, his hands, gloved with delicate leather, and his jabbing, twirling spear that never gave the enemy a chance to recover, a relentless storm of crushing blows and slicing cuts.
Albert was a quiet man by nature, a fair ruler, and an excellent scholar. He prided himself on his good judgment and clear head. But now, in his eyes was a red haze, and in his hand was a sturdy spear, and all he thought was cut, cut, cut until it no longer moves.
His hand flicked out his utter delicacy, drawing a line of red on the monster's skin. It screamed and gibbered, striking back, but oh, he was too swift, and he danced back with a devastating blow of such force that the shock jangled up his arm and made his teeth clench.
On it went, and his hands were spattered with dark blood, and its cries grew weaker still as it lost the will to fight. Albert's lips drew back to reveal white teeth in a feral grin, and he delivered the finishing blow, a deadly punch with the spear's blade that sent a gout of blood onto the sandy soil.
He turned, dazed, and looked with confusion at the wary glance Dart was giving him, and the measuring stare of Rose, cleaned off his spear with a swipe of cloth, and waited to move out.
This was who he was, and who he struggled so hard to embody in every form, the sweeping, unyielding, brutal gust that tears away homes and families in one fell swoop.
This was his foot, braced against the crumbling dirt, his hands, gloved with delicate leather, and his jabbing, twirling spear that never gave the enemy a chance to recover, a relentless storm of crushing blows and slicing cuts.
Albert was a quiet man by nature, a fair ruler, and an excellent scholar. He prided himself on his good judgment and clear head. But now, in his eyes was a red haze, and in his hand was a sturdy spear, and all he thought was cut, cut, cut until it no longer moves.
His hand flicked out his utter delicacy, drawing a line of red on the monster's skin. It screamed and gibbered, striking back, but oh, he was too swift, and he danced back with a devastating blow of such force that the shock jangled up his arm and made his teeth clench.
On it went, and his hands were spattered with dark blood, and its cries grew weaker still as it lost the will to fight. Albert's lips drew back to reveal white teeth in a feral grin, and he delivered the finishing blow, a deadly punch with the spear's blade that sent a gout of blood onto the sandy soil.
He turned, dazed, and looked with confusion at the wary glance Dart was giving him, and the measuring stare of Rose, cleaned off his spear with a swipe of cloth, and waited to move out.
