Timestamp: 48th of Fall, AV 510 |
Ash'eny stepped out of the Ironworks, a new, and beautiful, mace in his hands, a glitter of madness in his eyes, and a trembling in his arm that from anxiety. It had been so long since he had held a weapon with intention to kill. Well, he still didn't plan on killing anybody, but he had a hunger to use the weapon in some way, the only way a weapon was used. He wanted to be the shyke out of a bush, to thrash a tree until his arms quivered from exhaustion, to crush the heads of whatever dared to wander too close. The problem was that Syliras tended to be heavily guarded, and bashing the living snot out of property was highly forbidden. Where could Ash'eny go to just work his muscles into rubber and his anger into nonexistence? He would have to wander around, maybe even outside of the great walls if he must. He didn't particularly like that idea, since it would be dark soon, and the wilderness was known for being incredibly dangerous. Yet, even with knowing how dangerous it was, he didn't particularly mind, he just wanted to bash something with his knew weapon. Was that too much to ask for? |