Role

Chapter 2

Alrion stands in the ashen remains of what was once a great
span of trees now reduced to a row of smuldering stumps as
far as the eye can see. There is the forboding overwhelming
sense of death surrounding the burnt remains. Sound held abay
not even daring to break the deathly silence of the surrounds.
Suddenly Alrions arms and legs are pulled in opposing directions
like a man being drawn and quartered by four draft horses. A
chilling voice breaks behind him breaks the silenece, softly
spoken each word layered in hatred ...

"You deny me puppet? After all I have done for you!"

"I did after all have a hand in your freedom."

A hollow chuckle began to fill the air, the surrounds answering
in turn as the heat of the area rises and falls, echoing the
hollow laugh. Impossibly large hands, far bigger than Alrion
ever remembered roughly grab at the suspended giant and turns
him towards the source of the heat. A single word escapes Alrions
mouth ...

"Tohr"

The impossibly large giant broke into to laughter once more.

"You like your soul are mine!"