First part.

First off, I'm not sure how much of the actual story/novel, I'll be posting up here. Though it's good for me to get it out at times, I know there will be a lot of them stolen, or taken as their own. To be honest, I'm not to worried about it. Time will tell if they tell the truth or not, I could care less. I do believe in the freedom of all information, ideas and the sharing of the like, however; I really believe in giving credit where credit is deserved. I'm not posting it out here for people to steal, use it if you want, just give credit please. As I said this is the beginning of the novel I am working on, and input, ideas and such are helpful. Actually I'm almost begging for them, I want people to flood my head with ideas and their viewpoints on it. I really do, not only does it give me more to work towards, but it helps with the creative process.

This part that I'm posting, I believe is going to be the final draft for this part, I absolutely love it. A few additions here and there, probably some spelling, grammatical errors and what not, and those are fine for now. My wife helped edit it and rewrite a bit of it, and once she did, I was bombarded with more and more creativity. I tell you that woman rocks. So she deserves as much credit as I do on this. Hopefully one day I or we'll finish it, get it published and actually get myself into a career. God willing.


""""" When under the night sky of the world, there is always noise to be heard, especially for those out in the open instead of a comfortable inn.Over time, there are those that learn to block out the normal noises such as crickets, wind in the leaves and rabbits scurrying from the flapping of an owls wings. Those people learn to focus on the important shifts of sounds, the noises that stop too soon, such as the forest going quiet after a snapped twig or a crunch of gravel. A figure lay beneath the tree canopy this unknown forest offered; reflecting on the fact that it always comes back to time. There was no fire, nor camping supplies, just a figure, lying there playing with some blades of grass. The darkness of the night sky seemed to almost war with the stars that made their home here. The darkness was winning, or so it seemed. Clouds seemed to move in defiance of the lack of wind. Calmly they overtook the sky with unseen determination, blocking out the remaining light. With a slow grace and a light touch they even overtook the light from the seven moons that focused around this world. The moons’ attention never seemed to falter from the world, at least it seemed that way to him. Though it wasn’t his worry on this night, seven moons still seemed six too many to him.
A slight breeze brushed across his skin in a seductive manner, odd as that sounds. It seemed to play with the skin that was bared with a definitive romance. He did not let it bother him, even when their light giggles came. Though the people in this world still founds beings like these creepy, he was used to their like and found the familiarity welcoming. It was different, yet nonthreatening, and even forced a bit of a smile across his face. It reminded him of a long lost home he had yet to know and could not even fathom remembering. As was his life.
Time. He sighed lightly as he felt the soft lips of the wind caress only his cheek. He chuckled and stood, taking in the surrounding area he occupied one more time. Surveying, and letting those little wind beings try to seduce him. With light laughter and whispered promises, they flitted across his skin; senses. When he didn’t lose his focus on what was important their whispers started to come at him full throttle, getting deeper into the walls he had setup around his heart. It was time to go. He needed nothing from these little beings, and they were quick to figure out the buttons to push on a man. That never boded well with him. It was more than likely death’s enticement, and he had no time for that now.
He set up his defenses with a determination that actually made the wind pick up in a bit of anger. Seeking to move his body and will, the wind raged against him, but he ignored its annoyance and focused on the area. The trees were clumped together almost tighter than any forest he had ever seen. The underbrush seemed almost sentient, but was negated by the force of wind that was whirling around him, trying to get his focus. He ignored them still, as the darkness overtook his vision a bit more. Sitting down once again, the wind buffeting across his neck, its annoyance minimal now, he let them play, ignoring what they whispered and the hormones that welled up inside of him, in enough time they would pass on to an easier prey.
The last few days of travel had been uneasy but not uneventful for him; he relished this time and space to relax despite the pestering of the seductive air spirits. Twisting the grass softly between his fingers, he sat watching the glimpses of night’s sky through breaks in the foliage and clouds. Masked across nose and mouth, his face was hard and unreadable, with hair hanging down to the small of his back when his head was titled to the moons. The little light that was shining through the forest canopy reflected against that hair in a sickly black and yellow sheen. It was straight and long, worn in a ponytail, the bottom spread in fine wide arc as the wide brush of an artist. His eyes so calm that no one looking could tell that on the inside he was dealing in chaos. He sat, deep in reflection; the pondering it seems one must do on such a quiet night as this. His head was filled with thoughts warring of his hated life and what the actions of others had brought it to be. Thoughts of the loved ones lost, and those who remained. Sitting up calmly, chest thrusting upward and back as a deep sigh took his body and mind. Hands moving fluidly, like water in motion, he raised up two elongated items, barely glinting in the moonlight as they were strapped to his back, seeming to hover almost a foot or more above his head. He gave one final look then shook his head, bringing up the hood from his cloak and deciding that it was time to be away from here. A few more hours and he'd be in the bustling city of Everblue. He ran his hands under his hood and scratched vigorously. He hated having to always be cloaked with his face and ears hidden, yet since his race was not well-liked in any part of the world he'd visited so far, he’d learned that it was for his safety as well as that of others. He gave a look to the south where he had come from, there could be his home that way, but he wouldn’t let a friend down. He had quit guessing how she had gotten here; and having seen many other powerful things from her, it should not have surprised him. Yet it had, and it caused him to worry about her as well. He shook the thoughts from his head as he tightened the mask that surrounded his face and ears, making sure that only his eyes and the bridge of his nose could be seen. Pulling his hood up after he double checked, he forced his muscles into action, bolting into the darkness of the forest. The clouds were beginning to dissipate slowly, allowing a bit more of the sky’s light in through the treetops. Any bystander watching would have sworn he just disappeared, as his quickness had been trained to outstanding levels. He was not the strongest, but no one could match his quickness, specifically when it came to moving in the forest. A few feet into the now illuminated forest he opted to take to the trees instead, moving as the wind would through their branches. He was hoping to make it to Everblue before daybreak and at the speed he was going it would not be an issue.
The surrounding landscape became nothing but a blur and he focused on the task at hand, letting all his other senses be the alarms, he kept his vision on what was around him. Calm, his breaths were coming in slow and steady intervals, as if he were walking. It had taken him many years to do this almost non stop. Time, and of course his healing ability, which helped on so many levels. He sneered at that thought. It was far from a blessing, far from a wonderful addition to his natural born and honed abilities. He kicked off a branch, now realizing that the wind beings were still with him, even keeping up to his speed with little effort. Landing on another branch he pushed himself harder and faster. After a few seconds the wind beings began to show some trouble following. He weaved suddenly through the branches and trunks, hitting the ground, and then back to the branches, doubling back, taking sharp turns. It was only a short time before the wind beings gave up, deciding to move on. He was worth the trouble no longer. At least, that’s what went through his head whilst he slowed down. The pain in his legs was a light warning that if he pushed any more he would be pulling muscles and ligaments, ripping and breaking faster than what he could heal while keeping his pace. He slowed and stretched minutely then ran at his more “leisurely” pace, back into the trees, his speed startling the forest to silence; there was no longer a reason to push himself to a torturous pace.

Saddled Dragon Tavern of Everblue Nightfall

“Oy! Manxee, ‘e need flagons ov'r 'ere, quick like.” A gruff voice and boisterous voice broke the dazing waitress and she couldn’t help but look to it. She sighed lightly and nodded her head. She grabbed a flagon from under the bar and growled a bit as she realized she needed to tap yet another barrel.
Dwarves and their drinking never stopped until the early morning hours, and most times not even then. Oh it was good money, but was it really worth the extreme amount of work? Everyone in the tavern burst out with a sudden hurrah as soon as they heard the pop of the tap entering the barrel. She filled the flagon, and 6 more just like it afterward. She had seen more hands rise and knew what they wanted. She hustled her human legs to the brink of exhaustion catering to the needs of the thirsty Dwarves.
Many of them had begun to talk of deeds and battles fought and knew if anymore ale was poured down their gullets, she'd have to replace the furniture again. Her rooms were filled yet not one dwarf was currently occupying the room. No, they had decided to stay down here and drink themselves into a Dwarven stupor. It was going to be a long night.
To save herself time, she rolled a couple of barrels up onto the bar and tapped them. The Dwarves hurrahed again and began to congregate around the newly tapped barrels. She sat back and kept a tally of each flagon they refilled as she relaxed; it was much easier to deal with and much easier to breath. She sighed deeply and nibbled on a roll she had baked earlier that day.
She was used to days without sleep and working through full exhaustion. Being only 17 she looked and acted more like a 40 year old mother of 5. She was always busy and was coming close to being wealthy, until the new lord had taken over.
Everblue was now under such heavy taxation many of the farmers were losing their land and were now being sold into slavery. She shook her head and looked up, almost choking on her roll. She stood up with a new found burst of energy as she coughed up a bit of stuck roll in her throat and looked to the newcomer.
This one was radiating trouble, different in a way she was unsure of. He (her best guess) was wearing a dark cloak and mask that hid his face. This was not abnormal by any means, no it was just the feeling she got from him. She raised a brow in mistrust and watched him as he stood there a few seconds. He was taking in the room, seeing what was where and if anyone would pose a threat. Or so she assumed. Though she was no stranger to the weapons any of her patrons brought in, his were sheathed an odd way. She could see the strange metal, yet they were not fully encased. They were held on by fine thin strips of metal around the blade. As he turned towards a few laughing Dwarves, she could see the full sheaths. A fine outline of metal to the hilts only encasing one side of the blades, with a small latch holding on to a ring on the hilt, she was surprised to see there was no guard between the handle and blade.
The handle itself was beautifully intricate, and she almost didn’t see that it was wrapped in a silver cloth that matched the color of the metal perfectly. The metal gave no reflection of the light, nor did it shine. She balked a moment, blinking quickly then rubbing her eyes. Did she just see herself engulfed in flames from the reflection of it? No, no. She’s just had a really long day that’s what it was, it had to be the reflection from the fireplace. Not trusting him, she forced calmness upon herself. Collecting herself she watched as he turned smoothly to her, taking out his money pouch.
“Evening, do you have rooms available?" His voice was calm and almost soothing, yet it seethed with knowledge. Knowledge like you would feel from a mage of immense power, and it dawned on her that she only felt this way about mages. She had no intentions of having dealings with those types tonight. She'd lost too much money by allowing them in here, hence her sign. She instinctively pointed towards the plaque on the wall and gave him a very deep look of mistrust. He followed her finger and nodded lightly with a slight laugh.
"No worries, I am no mage. I’m just here until I can find passage on a water vessel." His accent was thick with a dialect she had never heard before, though his common was good, it was strange to hear words that had been out of use by even the elder races here. She gave him another look, this time more out of curiosity than mistrust. He raised a brow, a bit confused and then looked behind him. “My sincere apologies, have I offended you in some way? I am new here and have yet to become aware of the customs.” He spoke with sincerity and she calmed down a bit. He was nice and calm, never giving off threatening or troublesome actions. She had learned to read people wonderfully yet still this guy worried her more than any she’d met before.
His stance alone showed enough experience to tell her a lot about him. He was ready for anything, constantly watching and paying attention. She could see quick little quivers of his hidden ears as sounds crossed the room, yet she saw no other of his muscles move, his eyes didn’t dart around the room but moved calmly looking at key things behind the bar, and he only breathed through his nose, as if picking up scents.
His body seemed relaxed but she saw certain muscles were tense, ready to move if need be. His right hand held his money pouch but his left could not be seen. His back was to the inn’s stable door so his peripheral vision caught most of the room around him. This guy knew exactly what he was doing, almost flawlessly. She guessed there was very little of the inn’s main room that he could not see, and those parts alone were not occupied
She couldn’t help but feel a little fear well up inside of her. If he really wanted to, he would walk away from this inn as the only living soul. Her father and his mercenary friends would have been proud of themselves for teaching her to be able to spot these things, never even taking into account all she learned from manning a tavern; inn on a busy road on the way to or from many wars, or the fact that this man was shrouded in experience and radiating danger from every pore. She felt the goose bumps rise; forcing herself to ignore them she looked to him with a raised brow.
"I be apologizing sir, as ye can plainly see, I be booked up t’night, but if ye be needin’ food and drink I 'ave that in plenty, but then you best be on yer way. As I can tell, each and every inn in these parts is filled." She came across a bit eager to have him leave and she could tell he picked up on that. His eyes seemed to take her in and he nodded lightly, accepting what she had to say as truth.
"Well thank you much for the information. If you can I'd like to go ahead and purchase some rations as well as some flasks of water if you have them available." He took a seat on one of the stools and set quite a few gold pieces on the bar as she nodded. She disappeared into the back room carrying a large rucksack and filling it as close as she could to the top. He paid good money, no need for it to go to waste. She returned carrying it like it was a laundry bag of feathers and set it on the counter, taking the gold pieces in exchange. By the weight alone she realized he’d overpaid, though when she dropped about half the coins back onto the counter and he ignored them.
"Aye, you be set, now off with ya." She said it a little brashly, but there was a fight breaking out near the fireplace which she needed to quell pretty quick. Grabbing a baking plank she leaped over the counter ready to knock some heads in. He watched her calmly as she pounced without remorse, knocking the heads of the two culprits with a sudden THUNK.
They whirled around on her rubbing their heads. She just gave them the look. Many a recalcitrant child knows this look, and the Dwarves slurred their apologies to head back to their respective tables. She shook her head and gave one final look around the room. The man at the bar was gone now and that relieved her a bit. She hated it when creepy people came in here; when she was busy she could never keep a real good eye out for any of the trouble that was bound to come.
She walked back behind the bar realizing he had left the coins on the counter. She smiled lightly and scooped them into her money box while giving silent thanks. She took a deep breath and looked up one more time to her patrons. They were loud and cheerful, maybe a bit troublesome, and with the slaughter that had been rumored about in the far western mountains of their race, she was glad to see them like this. She smiled a bit more, very thankful no Weyl had decided to come in at all this month. Trouble of that weight she had no wanting of.




Xyan leaned up against a building corner just down from the docks, munching a little bit of the bread from the rucksack and watching the sea dance across itself. He had been a little later than he had hoped but he was here. Drow parties were an ever increasing problem and he hated having to change course to survive. Being in one piece however, was the main issue. He had been summoned by the Queen of Ilintal and he didn't ignore requests made by friends.
He watched the guards from the corner of his eyes as they passed by him. They were watching him in turn, suspicion filling their eyes. He ignored them and continued to nibble away on the roll. The sea rolled and washed away the sounds of the waves against rock and timber, leaving behind small increments of silence. Xyan enjoyed this silence; it was rather peaceful in a way. A small yellow light emanated from beneath his hood, giving his eyes a sudden jaundice look. He turned suddenly with his hands on the hilts of his weapons. Darn dark elves, what were the Drow doing in Everblue?





Oh ho! Lloth would be pleased, all he had to do was kill him anyway, and he was good at that. He had pulled out his crossbow when suddenly his sister’s hand gripped him by the shoulder. Claw-like fingernails digging deep grooves into the leather armor he wore. He grimaced from the pain and pressure she applied, yet held fast to his weapon. The sister looked at him as she grabbed her whip and then pointed to the guards. Their prey had noticed them too and she could see he was contemplating walking in front of them. Either way it was fine. That damn mark of his kept giving their position away, but at least they knew his when it went off. She sighed quietly and began to sign to her lowly brother.
'If he moves, let him. I want you in position here until his mark stops glowing. Once it does, fire.' She pulled her fingers into the position of done and he nodded lightly, watching the ever moving Kasian. That fool caused so much damage in their main city, causing many of the houses to fail the spider queen. If she was not pleased, they felt the pain, and it was about time they showed him the same hospitality the queen’s ‘pleasure’ chambers had shown them.
He stood up quickly and pointed in the direction of their prey. His sister scowled her displeasure at his sudden movement but evil spread across her face in a smile when she saw what her brother had; sparing the male some moments of…hospitality. In a sudden burst of movement that her trained eyes could barely recognize, the Kasian prey had silently taken out the two killers who’d lurked behind him in the shadows.
Her eyes widened, her mouth agape, and for the first time since she hunted him; doubt entered her whole being. He gave a quick look back to the siblings before bolting into the darkness of the docks; the queen’s mark went dead and they lost his position. Cursing loudly, the female backhanded her brother. Holding back a yelp of pain he lowered himself closer to the ground, eyes filling with hate and anger. Realizing there were no more blows coming he looked back up.
She was watching the spot the dead assassins occupied, the guards were long gone, and she wanted desperately to see what race had failed against her prey. She snaked through the shadows towards the corpses, keeping to the darkness around her dark body, she was completely out of any but infrared sight. She bent down and pulled the masks from there faces. Brethren? How strange. She knew of no other hunting parties out this far.
Ripping the house emblems from their cooling bodies, she smiled. Males from one of the houses on the lowest end of society, no surprise they failed miserably. She shook her head and thanked Lloth that the world now held two less worthless sons, they wouldn’t be missed. She tossed the house emblems aside as she looked around, hoping to find a trace of The Hunted one. Cursing she shook her head, tracking this Kasian was proving to be more difficult than she had originally thought. He was good at surviving. This was the third time they had found him, and each time they could do nothing before he was gone. They were the only two left now, the rest of her followers being held up by those damned cat people; however, she would not fail. She would sacrifice him to Lloth as her Matron Mother had commanded, and she would do it with glee.




Charging down the dock way he put himself in full sprint. It was not long at all until his mark went dark. The Dark Elven mark of a 'C', he had no idea what it meant, only that it had probably saved his life more often than it had put him in danger. He went few hundred more yards before stopping at a place with a clear view of his would be assassins. These attempts on his life were getting more and more frequent.
He wasn't sure whom he had pissed off or threatened in someway, but it honestly wouldn’t shock any who knew him. He watched closely as the female Drow bent down to check the failed assassin’s identity. He unsheathed his weapons and coiled his muscles into action. He focused on his target and leaped right as his mark brightened. She spun her head in his direction and her eyes widened as she looked wildly around. With a sudden burst of speed she dove out of the way as the twang from his blades echoed throughout the docks.




She readied her sword and shield as she quickly rolled to the left. His right blade caressed her forehead as she rolled; a fine crimson line appeared on her onyx skin. It had barely cut into the flesh, and she cursed herself, thinking she should have sent her brother. Though she knew she needed him there for the kill shot, if she couldn’t take care of him herself. She brought her shield and sword in front of her watching his stance. The mark was glowing brightly, leaving a blind spot on his left side. She smiled to herself and flitted quickly to her right, he reacted accordingly though. His right blade smashed hard against her shield, the vibrations throbbing through her shield hand and arm. She brought her blade up suddenly, bending over backwards as his blade skimmed off it. A sudden force against her chest sent her reeling, her body had barely begun to lift into the air when another bone jarring force cracked up her arm. She felt the shield splinter, a sharp burning entering her abdomen. Her shield now useless fell from her grasp, her hand coiling around the handle of her whip.
She rolled to a standing position and cracked her whip behind her, its seven snake heads hissing as the whip crackled in the twilight like a crack of lightning. The Kasian took a quick half step back and the whip wrapped around his left blade, four of the heads held tight, as 3 struck against his hand. The pain rang through his hand, and she cursed once again. She remembered her lessons on him well. The venom would have no effect on him; she pulled the whip taught with ferocity unknown to her, his stance had changed as his left blade was ripped from his hand with ease. Her eyes widened when he sprung, catching her completely off guard.
Clumsily she parried his blow, the force of it ringing her ears. His agile and deliberate movements were proving too much for her, and she began to feel fear. Another sudden movement by him opened him up to her sword and she took the opportunity, his blade came in a parry, forcing her blade to retract and slide off his, cutting right through her whip. She screamed as anger and sadness engulfed her. His opening had been a trick and she fell for it, his left hand had already grasped the hilt of his blade, but she no longer cared. She released her death grip on the whip, instead putting it into the blade. She wrapped both hands around the hilt and slammed against his blades with a new found hate. He leaped back barely avoiding more and more of her fury filled blows. Sudden blood shot from the back of his knee forcing him to the ground. A grimace of pain washed over his face, it was gone in an instant, though it returned just as quickly; another bolt forcing a home into his upper back. Enraged she pressed her new found advantage, striking with such force sparks lit up the area around them. She forced parry after parry, her mind completely gone with rage. He growled at her, suddenly flitting to the left again, blood still flowing freely from his wounds. She twisted into him suddenly, turning behind him she brought her sword down across his back. Blood, free from its host, rained across her face, arching in pain his back began to convulse, yet he recovered quickly forcing her back onto the defensive.
They became nothing but a blur of motion as they danced their deadly waltz her mind slowing returning to focus instead of rage; it would not be much longer and the towns watch would be on their way, if they were not already, she needed to end this and quickly. Her left hand snaked away from the hilt of her blade finding the hilt of a ceremonial dagger, tucked within her belt. She cut high forcing his blade out as the dagger became an extension of her own arm. Screaming towards him with such force and hate behind it into, nothing. The blade had slid across the hilt of his blade, underneath his fingers and they were wrapping around it like the coiling of a snake. She brought her other blade around towards his head forcing him to block her blow, the collision of metal with metal inflaming the pain that was surprisingly still in his back. A sudden flash of pain exploded across her vision, forcing her to stagger back, her left hand releasing the hilt of the dagger, her training bringing her sword in a defensive position as her left hand grasped at her nose, her ears picking up the dagger hitting ground. She looked to him, slow motion taking over as her mind rapidly tried to figure out what to do. His right hand twisted suddenly, the blade arcing from behind him. Her mind instinctively moved her arm to protect herself and she knew she was dead. His left blade came quickly as the clang of metal on metal echoed through her ears. The blade found its mark, and her body fell to the ground, her head was in the air and he sprung forward, bolting towards the male with the crossbow. His left leg suddenly kicked out from beneath him, sending him into a sudden roll. He deftly came to his feet and he pushed on with even more ferocity. Ignoring his wounds as they began to flow blood; it was as if the bolts just tapped a keg, and his eyes became slits one mission within their vision. He had been hit with acrosticium, and his body was going to give out at anytime. It was the one metal that pushed his healing abilities to their depths. He pressed farther and harder, bringing his blades up he began to twirl them quickly out in front of him. He heard the crossbow twang one more time, and the bolt hit harmlessly against his twirling blades. Closing the gap he stopped the whirlwind of metal in front of him, bringing them to his sides. Dirt kicked into the air behind him as the blades hit the ground. The force alone propelled him forward, timing his leap at the exact moment of the propulsion he flew into the air, whirling the blades around him into a vicious crescent moon arc. His blades literally whistled through the air with such pitch the wharf-front dogs began to howl. The male dove out of the way grabbing the hilt of his blade as he did so, but the sudden force and silent numbness hit his mind quicker than he could react. The blades had cut through his waist and legs and then into the ground. Xyan let the force crank his body into the earth. He hit hard, sending the bolt in his thigh deeper, but he rolled to his feet deftly, swords still in hands, hiding the fact that little stunt knocked the air out of him, though it was the least of his pain.
As the bolts now inhabiting his body continued tearing up muscle and grinding against his bones, he looked to the bewildered Drow. The male was frantically grasping at legs that were now no longer connected to his torso. Xyan could see the psychosis in his eyes, and he tried to sigh, but no air was given by his lungs.

“This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.” The Drow’s voice was getting louder the more he repeated his statement, and Xyan was getting weaker, so he lowered his vision and limped up next to him. He pierced the brain of his opponent, quickly putting him out of the delirium causing shock, his repeating words and the glowing of his mark coming to an abrupt halt. Xyan suddenly collapsed to one knee as his lungs took in deep and painful breathes. The adrenaline began to waver forcing the full agony of the pain to come to the forefront of his mind. He took a deep breath while sheathing his left blade and deftly began to cut the bolt from his leg. It hurt like the abyss, though he was happy for it meant he was still alive. He screamed as he dug deeper with his hand, finally grasping the bolt within using his deft fingers. He flung it aside and didn’t hesitate as he started on the one in his thigh. He clenched his teeth as he cut and went deeper with his fingers yet, his landing had forced that one in farther. He growled and took out his blade, suddenly cutting his thigh open. He screamed again the forcing him to almost drop his blade. The bolt fell free; a sigh of relief came from lips as he began on the bolt under his shoulder blade. Quickly and with what little strength he had left, he shoved his fingers into the hole and cursed in his native language. It was too deep. He growled again as he forced himself into a standing position. The world spun, hindering him from keeping his balance. This caused him to begin to lose focus on his surroundings. He screamed loudly and dug deep into his shoulder, sending more adrenaline into his system, forcing his focus back on the task at hand. He looked around quickly at the trees and finding what he was looking for, or at least close enough, he ran with all the strength he could muster and leaped. Twisting his body in the air as quick as he could his back suddenly hit the branch with force. It pierced his lung quickly becoming harder to breath, and the coughing fit began to take over. He pushed himself off it; he was past the point of being able to ignore the pain as he saw the bolt lying on the ground in front of him. He fell to his knees as his body continued to bleed. His body lurched forward and he coughed up even more blood. Slowly he began to tilt forward, dulled by pain and exhaustion his reactions weren’t fast enough and his hands never came up to stop his fall. He landed face first into the dirt, his breathing beginning to get even more rapid.
He smiled lightly though as he began to feel the familiar heat course to his wounds. It was even more painful than what he had just done and his mind grabbed its final defense mechanism, blacking him out to escape the sheer throbbing pain. """"""

So there it is, let me know what you think, I don't care if you loathe it, or adore it.. just let me know.