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       #Post#: 529--------------------------------------------------
       Toir Thunderbreak
       By: kazeespada Date: October 31, 2016, 4:40 pm
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       The heat was sweltering as the fires burned, a sickly
       combination of purple and orange flames engulfing the small
       dwarven village. Toir throttled her bike as fast as she could as
       she weaved through the piles of desecrated corpses. She thought
       in her head as tears ran down her face. "No, no, no, not here!
       Not now!" She skidded to a stop in front of her own burning
       house. She swallowed deeply, it was now or never. Should she
       just drive off now and think that they could of lived, or seek
       closure? She opted to enter the house. The savvy mechanic pushed
       broken door open and was met with a grisly scene. Her husband
       layed there, eyes cold and an emotionless as they stared at two
       smaller charred skeletons. She knew those had belonged to her
       children. Tears ran freely as she went to the male dwarve's
       side. "Oh Angus, I should of been here, with you!" She said as
       she moved to close his eyes. She remembered the fire arm they
       kept locked under the bed and wondered if it had been used. She
       wiped the tears from her eyes, a temporary measure as the
       immense heartbreak caused them to flow freely. She made it to
       the bedroom and dug in the ashes beneath the bed, and sure
       enough the gun box had gone unopened. She took her key and undid
       the lock(with two rascals around, always keep your guns secure),
       before opening it to reveal a shotgun and revolver. Her heart
       weighed heavy, and thumped loudly as she saw the pistol. She
       grabbed the cold metal and felt in her hands. Her grief riddled
       brain had a horrible idea, as she lifted the gun. She put the
       barrel to her temple with her finger outside the trigger guard,
       knowing just a pull and she could join her family in the
       afterlife. She took a deep breath, and thought, 'Is this what
       Angus would of wanted?' Her mind drifted to her youth, Angus and
       her, letting no one control them, sleeping around with many
       partners, total rebels. She took the gun away from her head,
       before grabbing it's holster from a nearby hanger. She slid the
       pistol into the holster, the shotgun over her back before
       painting on some blue warpaint. Suicide is not how a Wildhammer
       goes, they go in battle! She hopped onto her motorcycle, revved
       the engine loudly. Taking one last look at her family home, she
       wheelied away with a screech. It was time to make the twilight's
       hammer pay!
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