That's "Captain" Dragonslayer Ornstein to you. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragonslew) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
finalflight2017-07-24 03:03 pm
dragonslew) wrote in finalflight2017-07-24 03:03 pm
PSL; [DRAGON KILLERS]
[Dragonslayer Ornstein is in a difficult situation.
He had been sent out beyond the walls of Anor Londo, great golden city that it was, to hunt down a particularly massive drake that been flying too close to the city. Swooping low enough, even, to hint that it was doing little more than grandstanding, as if testing its limits before mounting an attack on the city proper. And naturally, Gwyn’s Knights could have none of that — especially Captain Ornstein, the dragonslayer himself, tall and imposing, adorned in golden armor, respected throughout the land.
Gritting his teeth, with his lance stuck in the maw of said dragon as he digs his feet into the ground, trying not to be pushed back.
The fight had not gone as expected. This drake was particularly stubborn, wanting to kill Ornstein with a fervor he had not seen in years. At some point, his helmet had been knocked off, discarded several feet away. The man has a large cut across his cheek, which bleeds red and runs down all the way to his chin, his neck, staining the top half of his armor.]
Damnable… drake! I’ll not die to the likes of you!
[He hold steadfast to his lance, grip like iron. They seem to be at a standstill, or-- well, they would be. If not for the fact that fire seems to be licking at the teeth of the drake, heralding the fact that it's about to blast out fire right into Ornstein's angry face.
He had been sent out beyond the walls of Anor Londo, great golden city that it was, to hunt down a particularly massive drake that been flying too close to the city. Swooping low enough, even, to hint that it was doing little more than grandstanding, as if testing its limits before mounting an attack on the city proper. And naturally, Gwyn’s Knights could have none of that — especially Captain Ornstein, the dragonslayer himself, tall and imposing, adorned in golden armor, respected throughout the land.
Gritting his teeth, with his lance stuck in the maw of said dragon as he digs his feet into the ground, trying not to be pushed back.
The fight had not gone as expected. This drake was particularly stubborn, wanting to kill Ornstein with a fervor he had not seen in years. At some point, his helmet had been knocked off, discarded several feet away. The man has a large cut across his cheek, which bleeds red and runs down all the way to his chin, his neck, staining the top half of his armor.]
Damnable… drake! I’ll not die to the likes of you!
[He hold steadfast to his lance, grip like iron. They seem to be at a standstill, or-- well, they would be. If not for the fact that fire seems to be licking at the teeth of the drake, heralding the fact that it's about to blast out fire right into Ornstein's angry face.