The next thing Bromin knew he was upside-down, flying through the air, and then face-first in snow. His wind had been knocked out of his lungs and it took him a few minutes to sit back, regain his orientation, and look around at the winged freak in front of him.
"Clen," Bromin said quietly, "Why don't you put a shirt on? It's bloody cold out here--" Thoran drove a fierce kick to Bromin's face, sending him flying backwards. It was like being kicked by a piece of timber, Bromin thought as he reached up to his nose to feel the blood pouring out of it. Thoran stepped on his chest and pinned him to the ground. Bromin struggled, but Thoran was strong. *Bloody* strong. The face of young Arthi appeared in front of Bromin, blinking as he looked down on him with an emotionless face. Arthi's head melted and turned into a white goo which covered Bromin's eyes before he could think to turn his head. Bromin felt his brain being tugged at, which was a very strange, very painful feeling, ten times worse than any migrane he'd ever had. He felt himself thinking of things involentarily. He thought all about Dr. Bloor, what he'd learned at the temple, about the girls, Elmo Benok, and Clen Thoran. He thought of all of those things in a jumble, sometimes more than one thought at a time. Then, it was over and Bromin could see again. He saw Clen Thoran take flight and fly out of sight. There was nothing else around him but mounds of snow and his horse. Gerart Bromin turned to the side and hurled vomit into the pristine snow. -- To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Archives & Other DMI Lists: http://www.dragonmyst.f2s.com/lists.php3
