Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140622002837/@comment-5583506-20140623122435

A ball of fire passed right in front of his head and almost burnt his face clear off. He turned quickly to the direction from where the flying inferno had come from. A tiny, but vicious-looking creature with pointy ears and sharp teeth hurled fireballs at him as he continued to dodge.

"Wh-what the hell?!" he yelled out and took cover behind a big black rock. "What the the hell is this place?!"

''Dammit, Hollis! Where have you sent me?!''

The nasty critter stopped throwing fireballs at him and instead started to rush towards him with claws and teeth. He drew "the Bastard" from its scabbard on his back and chopped the torso of the creature clear off when it got too close to him.

He smiled as he watched the creature writhe and turn in death rattle. "Try scorching my beard of now, you little shit", he said and spat on the corpse.

His happiness wouldn't last long though. When he looked up he became aware of that about twenty more of the creatures had taken "the little shit's" place and were all preparing to use him for fireball target practice. Arngrim backed away slowly as the flying wall of fireballs came closer. He would have died that day if not for the curse of misfortune that lay upon his soul. His heel hit against a rock that made him tumble backwards into a hole of darkness.

As he fell he thought to himself: Whatever hell lies beneath me, couldn't surely be more worse than the hell above me?

When he woke up the last thing he remembered was hitting his back against something hard. He looked around. He was inside some dark tunnel with a pulsating red hue. It was as hot as hell itself. He slowly stood up and grabbed "the Bastard" lying on the ground nearby. Wherever he was, the stupid Breton mage would surely find a way to call him back, and when she did the first thing he would do would be to take his gold and promise to never dabble in foul sorcery ever again.