|When a Man Hopes for Hope
||[Feb. 11th, 2009|04:26 pm]
The Warcraft Columnist
Renais had sat for days with his left hand holding the bones of his right hand in places. When he slept, he had viced his two hands together using torn remains of his shirt. But in a few days time, he had forced his bones back into place, though his knuckles still ached when they clenched.|
That will have to do, he thought grimly.
He had managed to subdue his rather negative side that both feared and hated the thought of Renais ever escaping from this prison, and now, he finally clung to the idea that he might be able to escape. It was a pitiful, half-lived hope, but he knew he must try nonetheless.
Taking a dagger, which he had stolen from the corpse of one of the guards, he imbued the tips with a molten fire. Using the mana-burning spell, he turned the entire blade into a torch that could cut through stone.
Then he began.
Taking the dagger and aware of the prodigous amount of strength taht the spell was taking from him, he took the dagger and began to slowly rend apart the stone below the 'window' of his cell. The dagger barely cut halfway through the wall, and only at a rate of an inch every second or so, so that the progress numbed him. His spell was a continued fireball that danced along the edge of the blade in a concentrated form, but soon it wore on his strength too much and he pulled back the spell, gasping as he did so.
Examining his work, he had cut about half a foot out of the seven-foot tall wall on one side - he would need to cut a total of four-and-twenty feet before he would be able to work on the bottom, another six feet total.
Wiping his brow, he resigned himself to the cold, hard, miserably work of a slave.