[ The voice that rings out in his mind is like a death rattle, and there's no excuse for the swell of satisfaction he feels at the sound of it. It's pretty obvious what his intentions are, after all. It should be apparent even more to one that was so close to death.
As the creature speaks, whispering, rasping words that are surely meant to entice and seduce him into sparing its life, Childe focuses on keeping himself upright and not passing out from the sheer amount of blood he's losing through the gaping hole in his side. It's hard to focus on much of anything when the dull throb of pain is an ever constant reminder, and when he sees, in the dragon's eyes, the fate of his own parents and of his family as fresh as if it had happened hours earlier.
It's only when he's able to focus on the great beast's words that he understands what's being posed to him, and the laugh that he lets out is nothing short of unhinged, tainted with the blood pooling deep in his throat that he has to work hard not to choke on. ]
We've both a foot in the grave, and you intend to sway my hand by bargaining, dragon? [ The word is spat out with the blood welling up in his mouth. He imagines he paints a rather memorable picture, this once-regal prince holding a sword high overhead like an executioner's blade. It's probably that image which prompts the dragon to make such an offer, in an attempt to appeal to his bloodthirsty side.
It's almost maddening how well it's working. ]
It'd be just what you deserve. You and all the rest of your wretched kind.
[ The black dragon is still out there, he knows. Childe could not kill it back then, when he'd stumbled upon it with his mother and father held in talons and teeth, the remnants of his siblings in the blood splattered across the earth.
If he accepted the offer, he could kill it. He would live on to avenge his family, and perhaps die in the process. He'd take this creature with him, and that would work as recompense in some form or another. Would it still be considered cheating death if they both died some time later? ]
But... my business is yet unfinished. [ The sword slams into the ground beside him, and Childe kneels as though in mocking deference to the dragon before him. It's made even more taunting with the blood he spits at it, a trickle escaping sneered lips and dribbling down his chin. Perhaps he has more than a foot in the grave. ]
i make up my own lore
As the creature speaks, whispering, rasping words that are surely meant to entice and seduce him into sparing its life, Childe focuses on keeping himself upright and not passing out from the sheer amount of blood he's losing through the gaping hole in his side. It's hard to focus on much of anything when the dull throb of pain is an ever constant reminder, and when he sees, in the dragon's eyes, the fate of his own parents and of his family as fresh as if it had happened hours earlier.
It's only when he's able to focus on the great beast's words that he understands what's being posed to him, and the laugh that he lets out is nothing short of unhinged, tainted with the blood pooling deep in his throat that he has to work hard not to choke on. ]
We've both a foot in the grave, and you intend to sway my hand by bargaining, dragon? [ The word is spat out with the blood welling up in his mouth. He imagines he paints a rather memorable picture, this once-regal prince holding a sword high overhead like an executioner's blade. It's probably that image which prompts the dragon to make such an offer, in an attempt to appeal to his bloodthirsty side.
It's almost maddening how well it's working. ]
It'd be just what you deserve. You and all the rest of your wretched kind.
[ The black dragon is still out there, he knows. Childe could not kill it back then, when he'd stumbled upon it with his mother and father held in talons and teeth, the remnants of his siblings in the blood splattered across the earth.
If he accepted the offer, he could kill it. He would live on to avenge his family, and perhaps die in the process. He'd take this creature with him, and that would work as recompense in some form or another. Would it still be considered cheating death if they both died some time later? ]
But... my business is yet unfinished. [ The sword slams into the ground beside him, and Childe kneels as though in mocking deference to the dragon before him. It's made even more taunting with the blood he spits at it, a trickle escaping sneered lips and dribbling down his chin. Perhaps he has more than a foot in the grave. ]
I accept your contract.