Between them, it is enough: by avoiding Maketh's swing the desire demon is forced into Henry's range, distracted, and in a single, furious cut he takes off its head.
The demon's death, however, does nothing to quench Henry's blazing anger. He throws down his sword and shield.
"What is going on?"
His question is snapped, though the sharpness of his tone is directionless. He knows that he would have been lost without Maketh's intervention, but right now his temper spirals out of his control.
He managed to dress before the demon caught him in its illusion, but only in clothes. He tugs off his top made damp by frost and replaces it with a dry one before he stalks over to where he keeps his armour. He pulls his arming coat on roughly and quickly laces it up with trembling hands. His mail chausses are next, and once they're secured, he slips on his haurbergeon. After that is his red leather jupon, and he gives the side lacings a hard jerk before tying them.
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The demon's death, however, does nothing to quench Henry's blazing anger. He throws down his sword and shield.
"What is going on?"
His question is snapped, though the sharpness of his tone is directionless. He knows that he would have been lost without Maketh's intervention, but right now his temper spirals out of his control.
He managed to dress before the demon caught him in its illusion, but only in clothes. He tugs off his top made damp by frost and replaces it with a dry one before he stalks over to where he keeps his armour. He pulls his arming coat on roughly and quickly laces it up with trembling hands. His mail chausses are next, and once they're secured, he slips on his haurbergeon. After that is his red leather jupon, and he gives the side lacings a hard jerk before tying them.
His breathing is harsh.