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Chapter 5.39 

Word count: 17048
Released on: Nov. 20, 2018, 6 a.m.
Last edited: March 16, 2023, 6:05 p.m.
Book: Blood of Liscor (8)
Most mentioned character
145 mentions
Most mentioned class
4 mentions
Most mentioned skill
1 mentions
Most mentioned spell
2 mentions
Most mentioned location
12 mentions

Mentions

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Calruz. But when the shock had faded and she’d taken in the Raskghar and the captive Gnolls—seen the madness in his eyes, Ceria had seen him as he truly was. Calruz was not the same. Not at all.
Calruz. But when the shock had faded and she’d taken in the Raskghar and the captive Gnolls—seen the madness in his eyes, Ceria had seen him as he truly was. Calruz was not the same. Not at all.
Calruz. But when the shock had faded and she’d taken in the Raskghar and the captive Gnolls—seen the madness in his eyes, Ceria had seen him as he truly was. Calruz was not the same. Not at all.
It was a thousand different things. The first thing Ceria noticed was his fur. The short hairs on his body were rough and dirty, matted with dried blood in places. She could see scars beneath his fur in places. Calruz looked like a savage. The Minotaur she’d known had cared for his appearance as fastidiously as any [Knight]. This Calruz looked scarred and rough.
It was a thousand different things. The first thing Ceria noticed was his fur. The short hairs on his body were rough and dirty, matted with dried blood in places. She could see scars beneath his fur in places. Calruz looked like a savage. The Minotaur she’d known had cared for his appearance as fastidiously as any [Knight]. This Calruz looked scarred and rough.
It was a thousand different things. The first thing Ceria noticed was his fur. The short hairs on his body were rough and dirty, matted with dried blood in places. She could see scars beneath his fur in places. Calruz looked like a savage. The Minotaur she’d known had cared for his appearance as fastidiously as any [Knight]. This Calruz looked scarred and rough.
It was a thousand different things. The first thing Ceria noticed was his fur. The short hairs on his body were rough and dirty, matted with dried blood in places. She could see scars beneath his fur in places. Calruz looked like a savage. The Minotaur she’d known had cared for his appearance as fastidiously as any [Knight]. This Calruz looked scarred and rough.
His teeth and odor were another part of that. Calruz looked like he hadn’t cleaned his teeth and he stank of rotten meat and sweat. And blood. The smell of blood actually covered most of the other smells. To Ceria, the Minotaur stank like a butcher’s shop. Unwillingly, her eyes drew downwards and stared at his arm.
His teeth and odor were another part of that. Calruz looked like he hadn’t cleaned his teeth and he stank of rotten meat and sweat. And blood. The smell of blood actually covered most of the other smells. To Ceria, the Minotaur stank like a butcher’s shop. Unwillingly, her eyes drew downwards and stared at his arm.
It shouldn’t have been a shock to see the pinkish stump of flesh at his shoulder, but it still was. Calruz’s right arm, his dominant arm, was missing. Ceria could remember the moment when he’d lost it. She’d had nightmares of that moment, when Skinner had reached down and plucked Calruz’s arm off his chest.
It shouldn’t have been a shock to see the pinkish stump of flesh at his shoulder, but it still was. Calruz’s right arm, his dominant arm, was missing. Ceria could remember the moment when he’d lost it. She’d had nightmares of that moment, when Skinner had reached down and plucked Calruz’s arm off his chest.
It shouldn’t have been a shock to see the pinkish stump of flesh at his shoulder, but it still was. Calruz’s right arm, his dominant arm, was missing. Ceria could remember the moment when he’d lost it. She’d had nightmares of that moment, when Skinner had reached down and plucked Calruz’s arm off his chest.
She stared at his other arm. It was whole. Damaged—clearly injured in later battles from the scars—but intact. It looked bigger than she remembered. Dead gods, she’d forgotten how tall Calruz was. Taller than Gnolls or Drakes and Humans. Only Moore was taller. The Minotaur still looked like a mass of muscle. But his eyes and the crazed smile he gave her—
She stared at his other arm. It was whole. Damaged—clearly injured in later battles from the scars—but intact. It looked bigger than she remembered. Dead gods, she’d forgotten how tall Calruz was. Taller than Gnolls or Drakes and Humans. Only Moore was taller. The Minotaur still looked like a mass of muscle. But his eyes and the crazed smile he gave her—
Ceria had seen it many times before. In half-Elves in the village she’d run away from, in [Mages] in Wistram—and adventurers. In everyone, really. Or maybe just the people she hung around. She knew madness. The different kinds that took hold.
Ceria had seen it many times before. In half-Elves in the village she’d run away from, in [Mages] in Wistram—and adventurers. In everyone, really. Or maybe just the people she hung around. She knew madness. The different kinds that took hold.
By contrast, the [Mages] of Wistram had been crazy in a different way. They hoarded secrets and played games of politics in what they thought of as the center of the world. Like half-Elves they were cut off from the rest of the world. Those of them that dreamed of more—Ceria thought of Illphres. She had been insane, but in her own way. She had reached for the height of magic, been willing to risk her life for that end. You had to be insane to do that.
By contrast, the [Mages] of Wistram had been crazy in a different way. They hoarded secrets and played games of politics in what they thought of as the center of the world. Like half-Elves they were cut off from the rest of the world. Those of them that dreamed of more—Ceria thought of Illphres. She had been insane, but in her own way. She had reached for the height of magic, been willing to risk her life for that end. You had to be insane to do that.
By contrast, the [Mages] of Wistram had been crazy in a different way. They hoarded secrets and played games of politics in what they thought of as the center of the world. Like half-Elves they were cut off from the rest of the world. Those of them that dreamed of more—Ceria thought of Illphres. She had been insane, but in her own way. She had reached for the height of magic, been willing to risk her life for that end. You had to be insane to do that.
By contrast, adventurers were just normally crazy. They risked their lives for glory, levels, and gold. They would rather die with sword or wand in hand than live a peaceful life. They charged into danger for the reward and thrill of it. Ceria understood and admired that. But Calruz? When she looked at him she saw something that made her shudder.
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