he was there, as if he could step from the very shadows at their feet. He looked like death itself and he smelled like rotten blood. The group of bandits, hardened men all, had lived long enough in the badlands at the edge of the Dreichwood to recognize a fight they couldn't win. So they ran.
He let them run. The drug was almost completely out of his system and Lime reveled in that choice, in his ability to choose not to fight. He could have slaughtered them all, but that wasn't the point. It had been such a long time since he had been more than a passenger in his own body; even that one small choice brought a smile to his thin, cracked lips. Limelan Shiall Kyr-Lyf threw back his head and laughed.
He was finally free. Again. At last.'
Thus begins just another tale of a man trying to overcome his fate. But to understand the man, we must first learn the sludge from which he came. I'm too tired to write now, though. Check back later.
