A fool. nemo knew he was a fool. Helping those who asked, running around solving problems for people he never met, The lumberjacks were the worst. Should he ever meet another lumberjack... his mind began clouding over at the thought, rage blocking all coherent thought.
Heading to Daikra he heard one of those blasted, simple, nuisances begging for help. With out a thought he ran after, stretching his unnaturally strong arms.
Entering the camp was a terror, nemo was met with screaming, the stench of blood, and a mass of strong bodies rushing down the trail, pushing him back the way he came.
The lodgings were worse.
Sprayed across the walls in bright arcs were gouts of blood, the haphazard buildings deeply pitted with fresh scars, he rushed toward the screaming and...
collapsed.
He could hear a futile struggle going on around the corner, see shadows and flashes of crimson steel, but something kept him from moving, a pressure on his emotions, depression and fear and doubt slamming into him like weights.
He barely had time to dodge the ax whirling toward his head when he gained enough control of himself to think of dodging, as it was he could not roll quick enough to evade harm, a second glancing blow hitting him on the left shoulder.
Ignoring the pain nemo got to his feet, sliding backwards to avoid more wild swings, each closing in, getting closer.
All the skills he learned fighting since he left derth seemed to leave him, his movements no longer fluid and graceful. A jerk backwards to dodge a swing aimed at his chest, and nemo slipped, getting his first solid glance at his attacker.
The man was dressed in what used to be lumberjack's standard work attire, but this was shredded. Flesh seemed to melt in some places, turning to a viscous matte black liquid, other it looked to have hardened into horns, leather, and bony knobs.
But his eyes were frightening beyond explanation. It was not the dull red glow, it was the rage and sadness that seemed to radiate from them.
The sadness made nemo hesitate.
The slash of the ax snapped him out of it. Muscle screamed as the blade sliced from shoulder to rib, Ax ground against rib cage.
Pain, had to forget the Pain.
The rest of the fight was a blur of the singing ax, fists hitting flesh, and depression.
When the cursed lumberjack finally fell, shattered and weak, the ground was soaked with blood and ichor, both of the combatants covered in wounds and smeared in gore.
Every single wound on nemo's body screamed, he felt as if he was on fire.... or being frozen... galvanizing shocks rocking through muscle, or maybe acid eating into flesh.
he blamed the ichor that was oozed from the lumberjack, that continued to ooze from the downed body.
nemo could swear he heard the lumberjack apologize before dying.
He swore he left the village, though he could not remember doing so.
nemo did remember dragging himself into a town days later, wounds healing.... strangely.
He sees an elf standing over him, looking grim, then fade to black.
He hears 'it is too late' and then nothing.
He feels blood flowing from his wounds, but slowly.