[Ivar's attention is torn from the shadow creature, who is attempting to rise again, and towards Eliot. He looks him over with an appraising eye.]
You don't look like much of one.
[Don't mind the insult, Eliot, he's like this with everyone he meets. Ivar looks down at his legs at the question. There's a snort of disdain from him. He's heard that before, too many times, but it never gets easier to hear.]
Yes, yes, I know, how can a cripple who can't walk even fight? [He dismisses the words with a curt and rather alarming wave of his axe like he's cutting the words right out of the air.] If I let being a cripple stop me from fighting, I'd have never gotten anywhere in life.
no subject
[Ivar's attention is torn from the shadow creature, who is attempting to rise again, and towards Eliot. He looks him over with an appraising eye.]
You don't look like much of one.
[Don't mind the insult, Eliot, he's like this with everyone he meets. Ivar looks down at his legs at the question. There's a snort of disdain from him. He's heard that before, too many times, but it never gets easier to hear.]
Yes, yes, I know, how can a cripple who can't walk even fight? [He dismisses the words with a curt and rather alarming wave of his axe like he's cutting the words right out of the air.] If I let being a cripple stop me from fighting, I'd have never gotten anywhere in life.