[center][img]https://googledrive.com/host/0ByCDZX18AmmONzZWYW96RjlQZUE/fancy-horz_zps742090b3.png[/img][color=gold][h1][i]EDORIC[/i][/h1][/color]
[img]https://googledrive.com/host/0ByCDZX18AmmONzZWYW96RjlQZUE/fancy-horz_zps742090b3.png[/img][/center]

Edoric jolted up and yelped a high pitched, almost animal-like sound as he scurried away, hands pattering on the slick stone floor before his sense slowly drifted back into him.

He looked up, and through his heavy breathing, he saw someone else. Another human (?), standing before him, offering an outstretched hand. Flashbacks of the rotting, grasping arm he kicked in earlier, the unnerving cracking and twisting sung scars into his head as they overlapped with his current visions of the armored maiden in front of him.

There was something amazing about this lady who kept her head level in such a situation. Edoric did the best to emulate her mental state as he gripped his face, his mind running through disconnected memories. He saw himself huddling next to a wall on a rainy night, swapping coins with a faceless figures and witnessing the most beautiful horizons.

[color=silver][i]"Get up,"[/i][/color] a voice faintly beckoned for him in the distance, a much more masculine voice than that of the armored maiden's, it was pompous and joyous, but yet still warm and caring, curious almost, [color=silver][i]"Why are you on the ground? There's a world to be explored, opportunities to exploit and adventures to be had! For tis the merchant's code!"[/i][/color]

[color=gold]"A w-world toe ex-explore..."[/color] Edoric mumbled to himself as his hands graced the ground, searching for an stone to which anchor his arms to lift him up, his eyes closed and hidden behind bangs of his silvery hair.

[color=gold]"Ch-chances to be tachenn..."[/color] the man planted his shaky arms into the ground and firmed them up like pack earth as the maiden-at-arms raised a shield and dared a presence which Edoric could not sense to come out.

[color=gold]"Adventures to b-be had..."[/color] old, stale, musky air of death rushed in to fill his heavy lungs that sat like stones in his chest, no gagging or vomiting came as it filled his vile blood with unholy spirit.

[color=gold]"For tis the creed of which I follow."[/color] Edoric took a deep breath and looked up, his gaze turning from that of the bloodied, grimy floor to that which laid a head of him, his mind now clear as he finished his chant.

The place was still nightmarish and hellish and disgusting and creepy no doubt, but Edoric felt like it had lost its shock impact. Of course he still wanted to shit his pants when he saw a small brood of incest crawl out of the open jaws of a decaying body, but at least he didn't [i]actually[/i] shit himself.

With his refreshed and stabler mind, he looked around, finally being able to take a good look at the armored maiden after wiping away drying tears with a dirty, tattered sleeve.

She was beautiful, even in her sorry state, surrounded in this wretched chamber of horrors. Silken black hair and doll-like skin with a aura of strength; Edoric would be lying if he said that such a lady didn't catch his eye, even if she wore broken, battered plate, but decided to dwell on more important things for the moment, namely trying to defend himself.

He panned his gaze around, nothing worthy of a weapon yet besides bones and bodies. Than again he had heard that femurs were incredibly sturdy bones, stronger than steel by some accounts. He wondered if a bone club-hammer-bashy-bonger would do the trick but started to realize how unsavory the prospect of lugging around what was basically some poor sod's leg as a bludgeoning device was.

Thankfully, he had spotted something else, something that glimmered dimly in the decrepted chamber, like a fleeting embers before the darkened shadows. Crawling towards it, Edoric reached for the gentle, dying shine and grasped his hand around it. Aging, molding leather greeted the flesh of his skin as he wrapped his fingers around the handle it feebly tried to protect, there was no doubting that it was some sort of blade of sorts.

Metals rasping as it was draw from its thousand year slumber in its sheath, Edoric pulled out a broad sword, the faded steel held but the faintest of memories of a proud warrior with a silver blade at his side. 

However, it was clear such an age was long gone as the presumed warrior was now amongst the many piles of decaying, decrepit, disgusting fleshy mountains, whose faint groans still tugged at Edoric's ear.

It took little skill to see that the sword had only faired marginally better than its user; the cracks and chinks that ran along the once fine blade that now ran dull. The sword was in poor shape to put it at best, Edoric wouldn't be surprised if it shattered soon but yet it held.

Some sparks in his brain told him to forgo its use as a sword and instead to use its hard sheath to encase it in a layer of hardness to be used like a club that he thought a femur could provide just a short while ago. 

Armed with a new, glorified club, Edoric took a stand behind the maiden in armor and took a stance with the blunted broadsword slung over his shoulder and head to be brought down, [color=gold]"Say... you know what you're doing right?"[/color]