Sybri stood before him, hands on her hips and the same expression on her face that a mother would when scolding a child. Difference was, atleast by Brulk's reckoning, she didnt care a snot for his safety. "So.. yer' dont like me, that means I'm upto no good?" asked the Hillman, his frown lines etched into his forehead like a signature. "What are you? Fuckin' five?"
She had a smug expression, this Bree lander. "Nothing personal, at all, but I have a sense when something isn't right, something isn't right here, I'm sure of it. Now more than ever." She said, her tone was felt almost too familiar against Brulk's remaining ear. You're the issue here, fuck-face. You're the reason the worlds gone to shit, you and that ugly face of yours.. He knew how to translate a womans distaste by now, even if she didnt have the nerve to come out and speak 'em. "What makes yer' reckon me? That grey-haired fucks half-way savage.."
"Look, you've gotten in over your head, Lyfrid is a manipulator." The words cut him like a knife. "She's behind that kidnapping and somehow she's pulled you into this mess, that's what I think. You're one of the Order, let's get you out of this mess, huh?" The tone was still there, almost sympathetic if it wasn't for that expression on her face. The mocking in her eyes.. "You fuckin' kidding me?" demanded the Hillman, his jaw slumping outwards like he'd just stood in something foul. Her expression changed, now more shock than anything. "Kidding about.. what?" Her voice matched up. She was shocked. Maybe she wants to help, maybe she's trying to do the right thi--.. "You. Playing the fuckin' helpful little cunt. You speak o' Lyfrid, d'yer know her?" What does she know? Nothing, her words are poison. She's worked for this Witch longer'n most o' these fuckers..
"Of course I do, she worked in my Inn." A hint of outrage teased at her words, but they had little effect of the Hillmans ear. Instead, it just gainer her a smile from his yellowish teeth. "My husband wanted to give her a shot at a better life." She continued. Oh, I know what you fuckers did..
"Yer' remember when that place burnt down, eh?" Brulk was almost growling by this point, he'd know this was coming for a few days now. Sybri looked almost confused, like she'd planned this a dozen times in her head and suddenly everything had changed. "Of course, we mourned her, thinking she was go--.." Brulk barked before she could finish. "Fuckin' didnt look too hard, did yer?"
"I suppose she told you we didn't care. We found her locket, nothing else, the flames were so intense, we thought she was part of the ash and rubble." She risked a shrug, her soft eyes pretending to be hard ones. "There was no way to know otherwise."
She paused a moment, like some watchman checking a suspects face for clues, before continuing with her sympathetic act. "My gut gives me an impression you're over your head." He shrugged, his nose was wrinked and the corner of his mouth pointed high. "Reckon mine says the same o' you."
"Depends on how you look at luck, I guess." She smiled, he'd given her what she needed. She knew the truth. "But what's that got to do with Balisan's kidnapping and your association with the prime suspect? Are you protecting her?"
Dont you say it, you fuck. Dont you fucking say it. He could only stare as the words slipped from her mouth without her knowing just what she'd done.
"Have you fallen under her spell, Brulk?" She asked, the question seeming to stun the Hillman for a moment. His good eye went slack, and his body jerks towards her with hands out stretched. He felt them clasp around her neck, and then release as she was flung helplessly to the ground a couple feet away.
Brulk leans his weight down upon his arms, using one hand on her face and the other to try keep her pinned. "Under her fuckin' spell, is it?" He attempts to twist her head around with one hand, and twist her body other with the other. "What the fuck d'yer fuckin' know, eh?" Sybri reaches up from her stupor and tries to push Brulk's arms away from her, "What the hell are you doing Brulk, let me go!" she struggles to spit out the words under the weight of the man and his determination. The shock and confusion only further hindering her efforts to struggle free.
Brulk raises himself up, holding her around the scruff of her collar. "Who're you, eh? Some fuckin' do goody type?" He wrestles with her resistance before hurtling her a few feet forward across the carpet. "I know Lyfrid practices sorcery and has resentment toward the Order and our Lady. I fear she's bewitched you or something, I'm trying to help!" Her words come out as panicked, dispite her efforts to sound calm.
Brulk follows up after her, swift as a hound, and wraps his hand around her throat once more. "Fuck you help!" His teeth are bared, yellowish and foul smelling. "Yer' my fuckin' hero, eh? Yer' have any fuckin' idea who I am?" He squats down infront of her, his good eye looking almost as dead as the flap of skin hidden beneath his patch.
"Fuck you know about sorcery, eh?" She holds up both hands, now appearing to have been more weakened, "Brulk... calm down.. please.. All of us in the Order have seen sorcery, Brulk.. please.. calm down."
Brulk remains still for a moment. "Nah." He mutters, grabbing her throat tight. "That fire burnt the skin o' Lyfrids legs. Left her suffering, eh? Alone.." He begins dragging her closer towards him, edging back towards the fire as he does. "Left her alone, and now you fuckin' say she's evil, eh?" He could smell the fear on her, there was something sweet about it. Reminding him what he used to be, not the monster but the feeling he'd get when he faced off against someone. "Wait.. wait.. I'm saying she's in trouble, she's been misguided or something.."
Brulk snarls out a smile, as unpleasant as usual but this time intentional. "Changed yer' fuckin' tune, have yer?" He realses his grip for a moment, then wraps his hand around the back of her head. He drags her closer to the flames, close enough for the heat to be uncomfortable against bare skin. "Reckon she's making me do this, eh?"
Sybri fear wells up in both her voice and expression, "Brulk, don't hurt me, you'll regret it, please.. let me go!" said in a nonthreatening way, more of a pleaful expression.
Brulk twists his grip around her head, attempting to drag her face towards his. "Fuck that, yer' have a bad feelin' and yer came anyway. Fuckers like you shoukd know to avoid 'em." He give her head another twist, his grip digging in tight. "See, you was right about me.. I'm a fuckin' dark bastard once I get going, but by dead I been trying with you fuckers.."
Sybri wriggles and struggles, but in the effort her feet and calves brush up against the fireplace grate, the leather of her boots start to singe and smell of burning leather, "Brulk, get ahold of yourself, you're not evil, don't do this!"
Brulk attempts to wedge her still beneath his arm. Keeping her boots dangerously close to the fire, he reaches with his free hand into his jacket. "Dont worry, fucker. Yer' wont have no memory o' this happenin'.. All jus' some nightmare, eh?" He produces a small bluish bottle, and pops the cork free between thumb and forefinger. Sybri spots the bottle, and goes wide-eyed. She lashes out with both hands, clawing at anything she can get her hands on. Her hand grasps the eye patch strapped around the right side of Brulk's face, and strips it clean from him. His face remains the same, stern and lock-jawed. In his empty, tattered eye socket sits a rough-cut red stone. A garnet. He bares his teeth into a familiar smile, and wedges the bottle's neck up to Her lips.
"Can't fight who yer' are, right?"
