Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-27603392-20140617030930/@comment-11588669-20140625025611

Echion winced as the backlash hit him. Each specific type if magic had it's own...feel to it. Fire had a burning pain, lightning set his nerves alight, ice was the feeling of his bones chilling over, so on, so forth. But demonic magic was the worst of the lot. Pure, unadulterated agony. And he could nearly taste it in the air. It sent knives searing in his skull, what felt like trillions upon trillions of tiny needles into each of his nerves, driving them to a surpressing amount of pain.

Echion couldn't help it. He cried out, clutching his forehead in an ineffective attempt to ward off the agony. And thankfully, it stopped soon.

Last time he had fought someone who had tampered with demonology had nearly killed him, if not for a priest intervening. And even then, he couldn't move around for a week after killing the bastard.

Ironically, it was the day he broke the seige. And even after, the enemy fought to the bitter end. He had never seen orcs more emboldened or inspired that day.

Another fireball left a searing pain in his head, causing his thoughts to shift to the current moment.

"Damnit...." He stood up, and staggered. "Fuck...I need a potion...unless your elves know how to deal with a Demonologist..."