Breaking the Sky (Heartfrost)

[Lion]

Breath came like fire burning in his lungs, but he couldn't stop.  The air was cold, sharp, painful to breath in and hold, yet already his heart was ill-prepared for its current state of duress.  It cried out in exigency, unable to hold on much longer if his body did not stop.  Feet beat the ground, until it seemed the very soles would tear through the thin fabric of his shoes.  As if that wasn't enough, the body he lugged in his arms weighed him down.  Every limb threatened collapse.  But then he could see the shape of the village slowly scrolling up in the distance.

Almost there.  Just a few more yards...a few more steps.  He slowed his legs, which quivered like rotten wood.  Feet were blistered, reddened and sore even with his shoes.  He scaled the hill towards the village, the bundle in his arms groaning, stirring, clearly out of his own senses.  "Stay with me now, sir.  Stay awake," the man said.  The limp body, grunted, fighting hard to follow instruction.

"Make way!  Make way!  Somebody get a healer, please!"  the man called.  His legs immediately collapsed upon arrival, almost knocking the wounded man in his arms to the ground yet again.  A woman rushed to them.

"Gral!  Oh Gral!  What happened?  Who did this!?" she exclaimed as she knelt beside him, catching up the wounded man's arm with one of her own.  She assisted Gral in pulling him to the side of a shack.  Several people came to attendance, all murmuring to one another.  Gral had no answers for the woman, and replied as such.

"I found him like this, Mina.  I was on my way back from the river when I found him.  He was lucky I did, when I did.  Or he would have died out there.  I don't know who did this to him...good gods, he can barely remain conscious long enough.  Speak to me, Nadam.  Say something!  Please."

Nadam groaned in agony.  His face was severely bruised, bloodied and torn from something that appeared to have small but sharpened spikes.  His body fared little better, his arm was limp and useless, mishappen in several places from having been broken like a toothpick.  His nose was also broken, smashed into his face and he had difficulty breathing out of his mouth, where he tried to gather the strength to spit up the blood that accumulated there.  One ear was missing, seeming to have been torn off.  To the surprise of many, he still had both eyes and a functioning mouth.  "Water...  Water..."

Mina rose to get some, returning just as quickly with a waterskin, which she gingerly rose to his swollen and shredded lips.  "What happened, Nadam?  Did you see who did this too you?"

After drinking, Nadam groaned, coughing severely.  "He wouldn't stop.  I begged him to stop!" he sobbed.  "But he kept beating me...  He asked me where the fortess was...someplace called Rheidyn's Gate...and kept on beating me until I told him.  But...it was hopeless...that place is a myth.  When I told him that...he only beat me more, tortured me until I acknowledged that it was real...  I thought he was going to kill me... "  Nadam closed his eyes, scrunching his face in pain.  He screamed when he tried to move.

Gral stopped him.  "Stay put.  The healers will come soon.  They will take care of you.  You'll be all right.  You'll see!  Who..who did this?"

Nadam leaned his head against the shack wall, closing his eyes.  "A man...with...steel hands," was all he could say before falling unconscious from the pain.

[Heartfrost]

The village had been a peaceful one with friendly people. No work for her here which was a good thing. Most people would be sad at the notion that a place held no work for them. That meant no money which could lead to starvation or a home on the streets. The blonde woman knew both of the consequenses having grown up with them. Still she was not worried about her health or the lack of good work. This was becuase her work was not 'good' work. Some of you may think "Aha, so she is in the shady business, yes?" but I will have to correct you all on this notion. The dark-blue eyed girl had a very honourable profession. She hunted demons. She calls herself Glorianna.

The Devil Binder had just packed her things making herself ready to leave the village. She wore sturdy boots, brown pants and shirt with a dark green cloak. Hardly fashionable clothing but it was durable and walking on the roads ruined fancy clothing with its dust and grime. Glorianna knew how difficult it was to get stain off her white leather and cotton. Most of the time she had to throw the garments away (Taking the Demon-hunting in calculation) and buy new fabric. So she seldom washed those clothes but there had been times when she had no other choice. Glorianna shuddered at the thought as she raised her small pack.

That was when the shouting began.

The blonde turned around, running towards the commotion. True she  might be jumpy and paranoid seeing demons at every turn but every so often it would be something. Hopefully this was just village people being village people. Hopefully.

Glorianna reached the end of the town just in time to hear the beaten man beg for water. The blonde woman elbowed her way to the front of the crowd, listening to the man. While he spoke Glorianna eyed his injuries. She was no healer even though she knew how to handle wounds. Broken bones however was not her forté. She let that duty fall to the professionals. The Devil-Binder looked at the man's broken arm and his face. Such weird wounds. Wounds from beating someone with your fists don't look like that. Neither should someone be able to deal this much damage. Not alone at least.

Glorianna continued to listen. So the assaulter had been alone. Glorianna hadn't even begun to ponder this fact before the beaten man said something that really made her curiosity perk up:
" ... He asked me where the fortess was...someplace called Rheidyn's Gate ..."
Glorianna remembered vaguely being told about the place by her Master during her years of training in the Order of Golden Chains. She hadn't only learned to fight demons there but also a bit about the lore surrounding them and about both famous and obscure places in the world said to hold forgotten demon gates and relics or house a lot of devil activity. Glorianna didn't need more of an invitation. The damage done to the man, the weird shape of the injuries and now a place rumoured to hold demonic activity. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she was wasting her time. She would never know if she didn't try. Without thinking further she reached forward intending to squeeze some more information out of Nadam.

"What way did he go?"
"A man...with...steel hands", was the answer she got and then the man fell unconsious. The other villagers looked at her with bewildered expression. Glorianna met their glares with a steel-hard one.
"I will find this man and put him to justice", she answered their unuttered question before she started walking in the direction Gral and Nadam had just come from.
She didn't know how far the unknown assilant had come. But she had to start walking now before the trail got cold. Already a hundred theories was spinning inside the blonde's head. Maybe it was a demon posessing a human body? Could it be a devil's trick? Had the human unwittingly gone into a devil-contract and accepted the toll in shape of a beating? Was it something else entirely?

Glorianna continued walking. She had a vague inkling of the location of the Gate. If she hadn't picked up the man's trail (Or demon or whatever it is) she'd go that way, hopefully catching him before he went into the ruin himself.
"So what are you hunting Glorianna?" she asked herself while she made her way through the mountain forest. She smiled as the answer came to her.

"A Devil with hands of Steel"

[Lion]

Blood dripped from those hands of steel, pattering on the dirt at his feet, studs gushing from where they made contact with the man's face.  He'd dropped an ear somewhere on the way back for it was no longer of any used to him.  After he saw a piece of his body already in his hands, he was ready to talk.  He told him the place was not far from here, to the north-northwest deep in a crevice between too peaks, buried and hidden from view of even the most speculative of wanderers.  But he was not just a wanderer looking for buried treasure in some dark and dangerous ruin.  He was about to let him go when he insisted that the place did not exist, it was only a myth, a legend, of a cruel and terrible knight that ruled there.

If only he had held his tongue, he might have saved himself from further brutality.  Castor did not want to hurt him more than he had to, he didn't want to have more blood on his hands, but he couldn't allow that doubt to even take its place in his mind.  So he made the man change his words, he could not even allow words to stop him from his goal.  He let him go and proceeded in the direction the man had told him, running, hurrying with all the haste he could muster.

Castor had no cloth to clean his hands, so they dripped with the reddened reality of his own cruelty, passing through the thickness of trees, that towered over him menacingly.  The ground began to escalate further, leading higher and higher upon an almost treacherous hill.  The rocks here were loose while the soil was quite hardened, making it slippery to maintain one's balance.  There were no paths that led up here, and all Castor could do was to look for natural signs of direction, moss growing on a tree at its base told him he was headed the right way.  He put up a hand and grabbed the trunk of a nearby tree for support, leaving behind a bloody print as he made his way toward the sound of water.

The stream was rushing, when he finally found it and he knelt by its side, taking it as an opportunity to finally cleanse Cynwulfen of the evidence of what he had done.  Castor dunked his fists into the cold, rushing water, which turned red and trailed it out.  When they were clean, he cupped a hand and drank from the water it held, repeating until he satisfied his thirst.

"Only a short distance to go," he reminded himself.  He looked up to where the stream was coming from, swooping northwestward, leading up to the direction he was looking to go.  But as he was about to stand, he heard the crunch of footsteps behind him.  He paused at the sound.  He may have been tired, but he wasn't deaf.  He waited there, back turned, hands digging into the ground.

[Heartfrost]

Glorianna went out from the village. It wasn't difficult to track what way Nadam and Gral had come. Gral had been exhausted from carrying Nadam and not hadn't bothered with finding the best way, but the fastest way. Twigs were broken, the ground and moss held the man's footprints still. It wouldn't be hard for her this first stretch of the hunt. Things might get more difficult when she no longer could follow the trail of the desperate villager. That was what Glorianna thought. In a way she was in luck. Had not Nadam insisted on the myth of the place he wouldn't have been beaten so badly. But he had and so a lot more of his blood had been spilled.

A lot more which would make Castor easy to follow.

Glorianna soon entered a clearing in the forest. A discarded lumberaxe was stuck to a tree and the clearing showed marks of having its trees cut. Nadam had apparently been a lumberjack. The clearing was a pretty one with its different trees and flowers. But its beauty had been ruined and instead the place looked like something out of a nightmare. Small specks of blood lined the white birchtrees which stood the furthest away. Too much blood lined the center of the clearing. Glorianna looked, part of her horrified another part collecting the information. A stump from a tree had been ripped up with its roots and thrown across the clearing. Glorianna guessed that the demon with steel hands must have thrown it after Nadam when the villager had tried to escape. A small bloody smear led from the stump to the middle of the clearing where all blood seemed to come from. Glorianna no longer felt confident that Nadam would survive.

The blonde swallowed down her disgust and began to look around. She needed to know what way the Steel-handed had gone. While she circled the glen she pulled forth two of her three golden chains and hung them to a strap by her left hip. She felt on the weapons on her back. One one-handed sword and a large dagger. Three runed and bloody spikes by her right hip. It didn't take long for Glorianna to find a trail which led away in the opposite direction. Soon the ground got steeper and Glorianna had to watch her feet closely. A bloody handprint on a treetrunk showed that she still was on the right track. The blood was still fresh. It hadn't been long since the beating (Torture?) of Nadam. She'd probably catch the culprit red-handed.

Glorianna was wrong. He was no longer red-handed. She stepped forward and heard the ground respond to her weight. The man ("No, not man. Demon", Glorianna chided herself) sat by the stream. His hair had a dark auburn color and he wore sturdy clothes. Glorianna looked at his most noteworthy feature. The gauntlets. She could understand why Nadam had remembered those fists so clearly. Glorianna loosened one of her golden chains and circled it around her left hand. She was first to break the silence.

"Why did you beat that man so horribly?"

Glorianna was surprised by herself. Normally she didn't even let demons speak to her. But she had been right in following the trail. Maybe she was wrong about the demon-part. Maybe this man was merely possessed? Surely no ordinary man could cause such damage if he wasn't powered by a demon's strenght.

Glorianna didn't know how right and just how wrong she was.

[Lion]

Castor kept his kneeling position, hands feeling into the moistened soil around him.  Here the earth was alive, driven and fresh, eager for growth and ambitious for flourishment despite the cold, a cold which seeped into him and into his bones.  His scarred flesh was numbed by the relentlessness of the wind, which seemed to blow from the direction he wished to go.  As if to deter him away.  His grip tightened, and he could almost feel the earth writhe in anguish at the pain he was causing it.

When the silence was broken, he tensed.  A woman's voice.  Of all people, a woman had to come and follow him.  Castor took nothing for granted, nothing when his very life was on the line, every day, every night.  His heart beat faster, heavier, louder, like a war drum calling him to the battle field.  She asked him why he beat the man...  So he was still alive. This was good, he hadn't wished to kill him.  But it was foreboding.  How many more people were going to follow him, how many more would come walking to their death to avenge a man as worthless as the lumberjack.  Maybe he didn't want to kill him, but he was truly a pittance upon the earth, begging for his life like a child would beg for his mother.  Perhaps it would have been a kindness to have crushed his skull instead.

Bitter, and irritated to have someone in his way yet again, Castor slumped over and sighed, deeply, regretfully.  "How long have you been following me?" he shot back, angrily.  "If you have any value to your life, you'll walk away.  Go back to where you came from!  Only evil lurks here now, and you should run while you still have the chance."

His hand reached for a stone in front of him and he gripped it hard, but not enough to break it.  "Turn back.  Go away!  This is your last warning!"

[Heartfrost]

They were not far from the plains of Hyoite. The cold tundra wind caressed the mouantain chain, making one side cold, the other more pleasant. This village was remote, closer to the cold plains but still a pleasant place to live. Glorianna felt a chill travell up her spine. Even she thought the wind blew strangely, a little unnaturally. She pushed the thought away. She needed to focus at the task at hand.

Slowly she reached for her one-handed sword with her right hand. The chain begun to pulse with a golden glow, in rythm with Glorianna's heartbeats. Her body anticipated a fight and so the magic were awakening. It wasn't fully awake yet and wouldn't be until Glorianna allowed it to be. It was stupid to activate the chains before she even had the opportunity to bind.

Glorianna didn't think any of the villagers would follow them. They had been too afraid. She had seen the fear in their eyes and they would be more content knowing that someone else was out there, seeking the Steel-handed man. None of them would ever dare doing it. They cared too much of their own lives to go hunt down a man who seemed more akin to a beast than a human.
Glorianna felt her fingers wrap around the hilt of her sword and the man started talking.

"Since the man you almost beat to death was carried into the village", she answered him. The rest of his words confused her. He didn't talk like a demon. A demon would not have told her to go away. It would gloat over the deed it had done. The man told her to run but Glorianna took on a battle-stance as she drew her sword. It made no sound of metal grazing against metal. Her scabbard was lined with wood and leather not steel.
"Go away! This is your last warning!" the man told her. Glorianna raised her left hand and whispered:
"Indeed it is", before she whipped the chain at him, intending to slash it against his back, before pulling it back to her. She inhaled deeply and with a roar (That was very unfeminine but very warrior-like) she broke into a sprint, raising her sword, intending to slash the man across his abdomen.

[Lion]

Castor gripped the stone to dust, knowing he'd never have time enough to launch it at her.  He didn't waste time either by turning quickly so that he could face his opponent.  The decision was made for him just moments after he spoke.  The sound of chains rung in the air, rippling sound that seemed to make time go so much slower, his heart beating down to every last second.  Castor felt that ripple of movement and summoned enough power in his legs to launch himself to the side, rolling off several feet away from the assault of chains.

Somehow he managed to keep his feet underneath him, crouched to the ground as he saw her coming for him, sword drawn.  He didn't know who or what she was, and could not allow himself to be distracted by the brilliant chains she wielded at her side.  To the side of him, Castor reached for the trunk of a tree, uplifting it quickly and easily from its roots.  He spun on his heel, holding the bark close to him as he launched the entire tree at her.

He began to run, hoping the tree would hold her for a while, even if it didn't hit her, running up the stream until stopping just short of its bend in the hill.  He turned to charge her, jumping midway, his powerful legs vaulting him consderably into the air, with his metal fist ready to crush her.  He cried out in rage, every part of him burning like a volcano ready to explode.

He didn't know who this woman was.  Frankly he didn't care.  But if she was going to get in his way, he'd make sure she wouldn't do so again.

[Heartfrost]

Glorianna could only make big eyes when she saw the man lift a tree by its roots. He threw it at her and for a moment the blonde-haired woman didn't know what to do. I mean how do you react to a friggin tree being thrown towards you? So Glorianna forfeited her thoughts and let her instincts guide her. She was still in a run and would not be able to turn around or throw herself to the side. Instead she let her legs drop from underneath her and slided beneath the trunk of the tree. She felt her braid touch the ground and she blessed the rough sturdy fabric her clothing was made of. Otherwise both of her knees would be bloody messes. Now they'd only be sore in the morning.
Still containing her momentum from the earlier sprint Glorianna threw herself to her feet again but stopped when she first didn't see her intended prey. She heard him roar and looked towards the source of the sound only to see the man (whom she was certain must be possessed. No human man could be that strong) fly towards her, steel fists first. Part of Glorianna wanted to block. The more rational part of her said:

"That man just lifted a tree by its roots. You don't wanna block that"

Glorianna followed her more rational side and she was blessed lucky that she did. The Binder of Devils threw herself to the right, right shoulder meeting the ground hard. The woman hissed and felt her grip on the sword going lax. But still she was not safe. The blow from Castor was devastating on the ground, making dirt and rocks fly all over. Glorianna felt several small ones graze her clothing and face, leaving small red smears while one big rock hit her left leg. Glorianna swore under her breath as she scrambled to her knees. She still held her golden chain however and she activated the magic inside.

The woman clenched her teeth and prepared to strike. She wanted to get the chain wrapped around one of the man's legs and pull it from him, making him fall. She just really hoped he was possessed. Otherwise this would hurt like bitch.

[Lion]

Castor certainly felt as if he was possessed, and he fought like it too.  Cynwulfen almost felt lighter than usual, as if flexing and shifting like molten steel being cast into the forge, responding to the heat of his emotions, all his desperation, all his fear, all his anger, all his rejection, wrapping itself tighter to him as he plummeted toward the ground.  He was aiming right for her and would strike within seconds if only she hadn't jumped out of the way just in time.  The shock of coming down so hard on the ground was not quite as felt as Castor made a minor crater with the impact, sending shockwaves of dirt and rock all around him.

It took him too many seconds to recover from the shock, as he heard the rattle and ring of metal to metal as the golden chains in her hand coming at him.  He was too slow and the metal wrapped itself around his leg just as he tried to move.  It felt white hot and Castor yelped upon its contact.  As he fell, the wind got knocked out of him and he need a moment or two to catch his breath.  But within a moment, he was on his feet again.

But something was different, he was feeling a little more drained than before, and he was breathing a little harder.  Still, there was too much coursing through his head to stop now.  The pain that gave him pause was now a distant memory, his body too driven to be bothered to feel it.  "You're gonna have to do better than that if you're going to stop me," he said, then charging directly after her, fists thirsty for blood.

[Heartfrost]

It did hurt like a bitch. Glorianna felt the chain wrap around her enemy's leg and pulled triumphantly on it. The magic was active and the chain glowed with a golden light. Glorianna heard the man's cry of pain but it was soon drowned by her own scream. Glorianna felt old pains wreck her whole body as if every single nerve was back in her past again. The old whip-wounds on her back flared back to life, each one feeling fresh. The blonde woman fell to her knees, still screaming. Luckily she had pulled on the chain properly and it soon laid there by her side. Glorianna panted, feeling the old scars still throb but the pain had gone dull.

Glorianna looked up. A few strands of hair lay plastered to her brow and her eyes looked haunted. She was sweating, not from weariness but from experiencing old pains. She stared at the other man, who already was on his feet, while she still lay sprawled on the ground. A light appeared in her eyes as the Devil-Binder realised something.

"I was hurt. That means ... he can't be a demon!"

The chains always hurt her when she used them but when she used them on demons the pain was distant and dull, easy to ignore. This time the pain had hit her with full force which it only did when used on humans. There was still one thing Glorianna hadn't realised yet. She had recovered much quicker than she would have. The pain had gone away almost instantly after she had let go of the man's leg.

The man spoke to her and Glorianna realised her predicament. They were still fighting. He could still hurt and kill her even if he wasn't a devil. She scrambled to her feet and shouted:
"Wait! Wait! Wait for fuck's sake! I thought you was a devil!"
He was still in a charge however and Glorianna did her best to throw herself out of harms way again. She was not so successfull this time. She managed to escape the brunt of the attack but she didn't get out of his way fully in time. Castor's charge hit her right side of her body and her bad grip on the sword made her drop it, while she at the same time was thrown into the tree who he had thrown at her earlier.

Glorianna was lucky. She was thrown so that the impact hit her mostly on the bottom and lower back. Had it hit higher she would have risked broken bones. Glorianna slumped on the ground, feeling blood run down her eye from a cut. She took a wheezing breath and used the tree-trunk to help her stand up, while doing her best to keep eye-contact with Castor.
"Why are you looking for Rheidyn's Gate? That place is nothing but a wreckage, haunted by demons!" she said, while slowly reaching for her dagger. She did not know this man. Maybe he would still try to kill her. I mean, she had after all attacked him first. She knew she wouldn't be very chatty were she in his shoes.

[Lion]

Upon colliding into her, Castor too lost his equilibrium and tumbled to the dirt yet again.  He used his momentum  to roll onto his hands and knees, breathing hard and sweating bullets, looking at her chains and then her and then back to her chains yet again.  Whatever those were, whatever they were capable of, it was clear that they were strong enough to cause him pain, which normal weapons were quite incapable of doing.  That was until well after the battle itself.  Adrenaline still coursed through him, lighting his blood aflame, ready to burst at any moment.

“You won’t stop me,” Castor said.  “I’m not a demon!  I’m not…I-I…”  Castor stopped his assault and was shaking as he tried to stand.  He visibly limped when he put weight on the leg that had come into contact with those wretched chains.  He moved away, crawling toward another tree, leaning against the bark, trying to regain his breath.

“I need…” he paused, mulling over what he was about to say.  “I need to get to Rheidyn’s Gate to stop an ancient evil that lies underneath.  There’s a Relic locked within it that is the key to its being.  I need that Relic.  I didn't want to hurt that man, but I needed him to tell me.  You could NOT understand how important it is that I get there.  Please, I don't want to hurt anybody else!  But if you try to stop me...I swear, you'll be begging for mercy."

He knew it was best to offer some semblance of truth, that what he said, while not entirely a lie, was steeped in truth enough for her to believe.  His face still held that wounded, but almost zealous desperation, the willingness to go to hell and back to get to Rheidyn's Gate.  She spoke of demons haunting the grounds of the fortress...if only she knew of demon Castor feared the most.

[Heartfrost]

Glorianna got something hard in her eyes and she answered him.
"If you was a demon I would have stopped you", she said, still breathing hard from the earlier pain. She was used to hard battles. She was even more used to be beaten soundly in said battles and just by mad luck and skill be able to nail a devil to the ground using her spikes. A lot of demons and devils got close to gloat over their victory and that was when she stabbed them. If you are gonna kill someone, then do it, don't talk about it. And Glorianna had a habit of talking so little she could with demons. They were all nothing but cheats and liars anyway. Nothing good could ever come from speaking to them.

Glorianna watched the man with steel hands, her own hand still holding the hilt of her dagger. She hadn't drawn the weapon yet but she was ready. Just in case.

Glorianna listened when he spoke of Rheidyn's Gate. She knew little of the place as it had been glossed over in her studies but it wasn't impossible that some evil slumbered there and had been forgotten by history. Those kind of things happened all the time. She still didn't think that his need for the Relic justified beating that poor man but still ... He truly looked desperate. Who was she to conclude if it had been worth it or not? She knew nothing of the evil or the relic. Maybe it was worth that only one man suffered instead of a thousand.

Glorianna averted her eyes from his, looking down at his feet.
"I'm sorry. I thought you was a demon", she said and stepped away slowly from the fallen tree she had used for support while at the same time relinquishing the grasp on her dagger. She picked up her chain though just in case and deactivated the magic. The chain stopped its glow and looked like an ordinary chain made from gold. It wasn't actually made from real gold. It would have broken to easily. Glorianna didn't know what it was made of really.

"What evil is under the Gate? Maybe I could ..." she said hesitantly. She really didn't want to go anywhere with this man. She didn't trust him. But he really, really looked desperate. Whatever was there must be important. And dangerous. By oath to her order she had to rid the world of demons and devils. If this was a devil or demon threat she more or less had to offer her assistance to this man. She was not just bound to do it, but it would be the right thing to do. Gods knew how wrong Glorianna was and how mad she would be if she ever found out that Castor planned to release a demon.
"... I could help you. I am a Binder of Devils by trade after all".

[Lion]

Castor thought after hearing his declaration she would surely back away now and run away.  He would say anything to get her to leave, the sooner the better.  The less blood that had to be shed the better.  But he was just as surprised when she actually offered to help him.  Help?  What could she possibly possess that could help him with his task?  But it wasn't so easy to forget the chains that wrapped around his leg.  It was still burning and he felt the pain throb along with the beating of his heart.  What kind of magic was that?

"A Binder of Devils?" he had to ask, clearly confused.  "What is that?  Who are you?  I—would appreciate your help, but I don't want you to get hurt.  But I must enter the Gate.  The Demon lies within, a beast not of this world.  You can't kill it with blade or knives or anything of this material realm.   If I don't get that Relic, the world will burn."

Castor began to formulate his charade, that resided in the grey space between shadow and light, lies and truth.  If she could use those chains to help him explore the fortress, then he would do what he must to achieve his ends.  If she agreed to help him, she was sealing her own fate.  Castor found the strength to stand on his own, resisting the shock the chains had done to his leg.  No doubt it would scar in time to come.