Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards

[Isk]

---

Isk had dreamed of war, more war than anyone could conjure up. He’d witnessed war between nations- Sosaria had once bred quarrels as readily as did liquor. He belonged to conflict and thus it was his purpose to foster it, to create an environment in which he could thrive. Isk was at his best when others were at their most desperate.

But in this Yew war he was just a minor player, just one of the troops in a struggle someone else had triggered. A piece of a token force sent by the Regent as nothing more than a symbol that he’s interested. Though what did it matter who created the situation so long as it existed? It was an excuse to get his hands dirty and on the night of the battle Isk’s gloves were damp with the blood of the enemy. It seeped through the leather to his hands, the life giving ichor of the inferior orcs caking his skin like lotion. He assisted in the destruction of two orcs, waiting in the shadows where orcish archers lurked until one showed itself. Pushing the beasts into the stone walls and waving his axe like a man possessed, his emotionless mask hiding the fury on his face. Even hours later he could still remember digging his hand into an open wound to feel the exact moment his enemy died, the orcish organs pulsing slower and slower until they became deathly still.

That night as well as this one Isk rested in a tub to wash away the bloody stains. The warm purifying water turned frigid as he spent the better half of two hours motionless like a reptile in its lair thinking only of the kill. A trail wet Utopia powder was sprinkled just on the top right side of the tub though he was not even sure if he had any. The room was dark creating an atmosphere which suited his thoughts. There would be more war and Isk knew this better than he knew anything. More struggles, a continuing cycle of conflict all leading up to the ascension of the Humanis Philosophe, the one human that would put an end to the dark times. This was the path Sosaria was on and Isk was her guide. He dreamed of war, more war than anyone could conjure up.