KAISEL
So, you wanna start a war?
Bang, shots fired
Bang, shots fired
Feeling a bit half-dead after a long day of helping haul rubble away, repeatedly loading and unloading rocks out of wagons and being treated to the hard seats rattling down cobblestones, Kaisel trudges into the steam room like a shell of a man. He'd done the hot springs yesterday, and those had helped, but he doesn't particularly want to argue with wind chill today, so the thought of a fully enclosed room simply simmering with heat sounds far more appealing.
Groaning through most of the process of stripping down in the locker room, he shuffles his way to the blessed steam. Door may as well be a portal to hell for the wall of heat that smacks him in the face the moment he steps into the box. Certain to seal it shut back behind him, Kaisel breathes in deep, able to feel the weight of the air as he drags it in. It's stifling at first, and his jaw works, as though tempted to chew on the breath the way you might pulp in your drink.
He steps further in, drifting towards the hot coals where he ladles out a fresh scoop of water. He disperses it over the warmed stones, the liquid splashing against the temperature change with a series of sharp hisses. Sheets of steam waft up with such intensity that he has to lean away from them. "Thaaaat's the good shit," he appraises, sweat already beading on his 'brow. Setting the ladle back in the bucket, he tightens his towel against his waist and melts into a bench with an exaggerated sigh.
Groaning through most of the process of stripping down in the locker room, he shuffles his way to the blessed steam. Door may as well be a portal to hell for the wall of heat that smacks him in the face the moment he steps into the box. Certain to seal it shut back behind him, Kaisel breathes in deep, able to feel the weight of the air as he drags it in. It's stifling at first, and his jaw works, as though tempted to chew on the breath the way you might pulp in your drink.
He steps further in, drifting towards the hot coals where he ladles out a fresh scoop of water. He disperses it over the warmed stones, the liquid splashing against the temperature change with a series of sharp hisses. Sheets of steam waft up with such intensity that he has to lean away from them. "Thaaaat's the good shit," he appraises, sweat already beading on his 'brow. Setting the ladle back in the bucket, he tightens his towel against his waist and melts into a bench with an exaggerated sigh.
Pain is what you desire
So, you wanna be immortal?
So, you wanna be immortal?
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
