As he moved in the dark his hooded cloak followed each step. The dark moonless night made him feel clear headed. The windless abyss surrounding him broke as he stumbled upon light. The lamps and torches of a small village were less than a mile away now. Suddenly he became aware of the dead toddler he carried in his arms.
The richly dressed peasant girl in a small night gown now lay limp with his support. No remorse was inside of him, he knew it had been painless. It was sad to see a child die, but when it was that of his enemy it seemed to make the action just and proper.
Since it was night the dark colors of his robes kept him from being seen by the few people out. The gravel crunched under his scaled feet as he approached the manor in which the girl was snatched from. His mission pounded inside his skull, each heartbeat rung inside his ear. All three sounds blended into chaos and nausea as the house became bigger and bigger until his left foot made a squeaking noise on the steps to the deck of the house. He paused, hearing faint sobs from within the domain. Mercy pulsed through his head once more, but quickly was washed away by a burning hate.
He placed the child on the front porch, his tongue flickering ever so softly as he did. With one swift motion, he knocked on the door and dug his claws into the brick wall of the house. He climbed up onto the second floor of the two story richly decorated home. Opening the door into what appeared to be the Toddler's room, listening to the horrid wailing on the first floor. His mind pacing with what he was about to do, he slowly and silently walked to the stairway. Down below he saw the two curled over the child with the slit neck, tears drenching the small dress. Now was the time to act.
With a swift motion he pulled out a throwing spar and flung it at the mother. With a crack, she fell face forward onto the ground, slunched over the toddler. The spar had hit her head and impaled her brain.
The Husband, a notoriously hate filled oppressive guard, stood up immediately. His tears still poured for the loss of the daughter, but a confused look was on his face. He was dressed in casual clothing, not a sword or speck of steel was on or near him.
The lizard moved in, pulling back his hood to reveal a pale yellow face. The guard, realizing what, and who, had happened, tightened his expression and turned scarlet with rage. "You.." he spat from clenched teeth. Not caring for a speech, the intruder in black pulled back both his sleeves. Strong yellow hands with long obsidian knives for claws stuck out now. "You killed my brother. May Tanora have mercy on your soul."
The claws surged fear into the human as the lizard approached. He was struck dumb by the situation and made no move to run for equipment. It wouldn't matter, anyways. The lizard moved fast and quickly started to rip at the flesh of the man. Screams echoed through the town as the last remaining of the family in the rich manor died.
Only stopping to pick up a satchel of coins, he fled. He knew what he had to do next.
Bloody Footsteps
Moderator: Gamemasters
The darkness closed around him. Leaves rustled around him as he stared down the hill into a valley. As his cloak wrestled against him with the wind he started to plot once more. He began to walk down the steep slope, his sub conscience taking over the process once again.
This town was a lot busier. Even though the robes hid him well, the sheer amount of people led to many raising eyebrows to the ominous figure as he paced silently down the road. He liked to think his image gave the humans cold runs down their spines. It made him feel more powerfull.
As the building came into sight he realized that the business had grown since he had last seen it, many, many, many years ago.. A large hospital type structure with many windows looked upon the street. Suddenly, a strong wind gushed in, his robes flowing with it. A squeaking noise brought his attention to a creaky swinging sign above the door: "Lastice's Medicos Service!" He felt his stomach lurch as he saw the smiley face carved into the wood at the bottom of the sign. It gave him all the confidence he needed to march up building and push open the door.
He entered a large waiting room. In the front there was a desk with two hallways to patient's beds adjacent to each other on both sides of the desk. To the right of the room, there was a door leading to a stairwell. The lizardman took a seat casually and waited as he heard in the back room a comforting voice saying things about going to sleep, drinking this, eating that, and so on.
After a few minutes, she finally came to the waiting room. Lastice was a tall and exceptionally beautiful elfess. She was dressed in white clothes with an apron that had some spots of food and blood on it. He stood up calmly and walked over to the elfess, who's smile faded slowly. She asked softly, "Can I help you?"
With a thrust she fell to the door at the right of the room. Sparing no time the lizard dragged her into the basement. There were a large number of filled potions and some on flames, bubbling. He quickly scanned it for anything to improvise on and spotted an open chest that was empty. Lastice no longer remained quiet after the shock wore off and started to scream and call for help. Annoyed, he gagged, tied, and tossed the medic into the chest and locked it with a nearby padlock.
On the streets no one considered the chest odd. Many merchants carried their luggage in chests. He quietly made his way out the town to the ocean shore with the struggling chest. He set the trunk onto the sand and opened it, taking off the gag on Lastice.
He stared into the pleading teary eyes of the pale white elf without any regret or mercy. He stated, in a calm monochromatic tone, "You killed my mother." She sniffled and sputtered out between tears, "I.. did no.. such thing!"
He glared at her in ignorant rage, "How dare she forget my mother's death.."
"You do remember. She was poisoned by a rare fish and I had to surface for an antidote. I brought her to you and you kept her ill. You kept poisoning her for the money, and.."
"No!" she broke in, "The poison, the fish, I hadn't ever come across it before! I had no antidote!"
"Don't ever interrupt me."
He glared further, he could feel the heartbeat inside of his eye from the tension. He extended his hand and started to fill spaces next to the elfess with rocks. She started to scream again, predicting her fate.
The lizard soundlessly closed and locked the box. As he threw it out onto the water, the night quickly became more silent. As it sunk, the pleas became more and more quiet until all that was left was air bubbles breaking at the surface and the soft sound of the tiny waves crashing on the shore.
There were still more that needed to be taken care of.
This town was a lot busier. Even though the robes hid him well, the sheer amount of people led to many raising eyebrows to the ominous figure as he paced silently down the road. He liked to think his image gave the humans cold runs down their spines. It made him feel more powerfull.
As the building came into sight he realized that the business had grown since he had last seen it, many, many, many years ago.. A large hospital type structure with many windows looked upon the street. Suddenly, a strong wind gushed in, his robes flowing with it. A squeaking noise brought his attention to a creaky swinging sign above the door: "Lastice's Medicos Service!" He felt his stomach lurch as he saw the smiley face carved into the wood at the bottom of the sign. It gave him all the confidence he needed to march up building and push open the door.
He entered a large waiting room. In the front there was a desk with two hallways to patient's beds adjacent to each other on both sides of the desk. To the right of the room, there was a door leading to a stairwell. The lizardman took a seat casually and waited as he heard in the back room a comforting voice saying things about going to sleep, drinking this, eating that, and so on.
After a few minutes, she finally came to the waiting room. Lastice was a tall and exceptionally beautiful elfess. She was dressed in white clothes with an apron that had some spots of food and blood on it. He stood up calmly and walked over to the elfess, who's smile faded slowly. She asked softly, "Can I help you?"
With a thrust she fell to the door at the right of the room. Sparing no time the lizard dragged her into the basement. There were a large number of filled potions and some on flames, bubbling. He quickly scanned it for anything to improvise on and spotted an open chest that was empty. Lastice no longer remained quiet after the shock wore off and started to scream and call for help. Annoyed, he gagged, tied, and tossed the medic into the chest and locked it with a nearby padlock.
On the streets no one considered the chest odd. Many merchants carried their luggage in chests. He quietly made his way out the town to the ocean shore with the struggling chest. He set the trunk onto the sand and opened it, taking off the gag on Lastice.
He stared into the pleading teary eyes of the pale white elf without any regret or mercy. He stated, in a calm monochromatic tone, "You killed my mother." She sniffled and sputtered out between tears, "I.. did no.. such thing!"
He glared at her in ignorant rage, "How dare she forget my mother's death.."
"You do remember. She was poisoned by a rare fish and I had to surface for an antidote. I brought her to you and you kept her ill. You kept poisoning her for the money, and.."
"No!" she broke in, "The poison, the fish, I hadn't ever come across it before! I had no antidote!"
"Don't ever interrupt me."
He glared further, he could feel the heartbeat inside of his eye from the tension. He extended his hand and started to fill spaces next to the elfess with rocks. She started to scream again, predicting her fate.
The lizard soundlessly closed and locked the box. As he threw it out onto the water, the night quickly became more silent. As it sunk, the pleas became more and more quiet until all that was left was air bubbles breaking at the surface and the soft sound of the tiny waves crashing on the shore.
There were still more that needed to be taken care of.
The ferry arrived at a small port off the coast of an island. There was a hustle of late afternoon business around him, the sun had barely began to set. No one payed attention to him as he paced down the streets, holding a scribbled on parchment with directions. He had, long ago, taken the very same path
He couldn't help but to examine people on the long trip, as he had suspected there were no brothers or sisters of the mother in the city. Why fate had brought him here, instead of anywhere else, he had long queried about.
Finally, a very large structure appeared on the, now black, horizon. The trip had taken him into the night and the small residents of the island's orphanage were asleep. He paced around the building once, pondering on the situation.
He decided on a plan of action and took a few tools out of his bag. A hatchet and a pick-axe. He was not very talented in either, woodcutting or mining, but decided it was the only way to pull the task off. His mind went blank as he worked in the nearby area until the sky turned a very pale blue, breaking the blackness of the night and his mind.
The materials he had cut out of the rocks and the trees were crude at best, but large and heavy. He spent the next three hours dragging them all in front of the building's doors. There was no way out besides the windows on the fourth story, which was used for the dorms of the people that worked there. He waited nearby, waiting and listening for the sound that would order him into action.
A dinging came from inside the orphanage. The sound of shuffling feet and complaints soon followed. Breakfast was beginning, now was the time to act.
He slowly reached into his bag and pulled out a few Molotov cocktails, made from pure alcohol. Using tender, he lit the cloth sticking out of each bottle. Moving quickly, with no emotion or care, slung them into the windows at the top. The roof quickly lit up and smoke blocked the early morning sun. Screams emitted from the building as he made his way up a tree, staring into the flames as though it was a concentration of all the rage built up inside him during the time spent there.
It did not take long for citizens from the village to come try and put out the fire, but the complex build up of rocks and wood at all exits made it near impossible for the groups to budge them out of the way. The fire had already had it's time spent in the second floor, and the entire thing collapsed. Flames emitted from the wreckage, and a few people standing too close got scorched.
Feeling satisfied, he hopped down from the tree and walked triumphantly past the rubble and the sobbing people. He was almost skipping, having completed his quest, when a spare Molotov fell from his bag. As he bent to pick it up, disruption settled in the crowd. The glee from the destruction of the last plague of his child hood suddenly fled from his body as roars of anger started to spur from the citizens.
Before he could even put the bottle back in his bag, the crowd ensued a chase. A few dozen people now chased him down the street, more joining. He counted himself lucky Zelphia had blessed him with agility as he bolted down the street.
As luck had had it, he managed to evade the group by swerving through the large town on his fast legs. He wound up at the port once more and sought the cheapest ticket.
'GOBAITH - 1S'
He couldn't help but to examine people on the long trip, as he had suspected there were no brothers or sisters of the mother in the city. Why fate had brought him here, instead of anywhere else, he had long queried about.
Finally, a very large structure appeared on the, now black, horizon. The trip had taken him into the night and the small residents of the island's orphanage were asleep. He paced around the building once, pondering on the situation.
He decided on a plan of action and took a few tools out of his bag. A hatchet and a pick-axe. He was not very talented in either, woodcutting or mining, but decided it was the only way to pull the task off. His mind went blank as he worked in the nearby area until the sky turned a very pale blue, breaking the blackness of the night and his mind.
The materials he had cut out of the rocks and the trees were crude at best, but large and heavy. He spent the next three hours dragging them all in front of the building's doors. There was no way out besides the windows on the fourth story, which was used for the dorms of the people that worked there. He waited nearby, waiting and listening for the sound that would order him into action.
A dinging came from inside the orphanage. The sound of shuffling feet and complaints soon followed. Breakfast was beginning, now was the time to act.
He slowly reached into his bag and pulled out a few Molotov cocktails, made from pure alcohol. Using tender, he lit the cloth sticking out of each bottle. Moving quickly, with no emotion or care, slung them into the windows at the top. The roof quickly lit up and smoke blocked the early morning sun. Screams emitted from the building as he made his way up a tree, staring into the flames as though it was a concentration of all the rage built up inside him during the time spent there.
It did not take long for citizens from the village to come try and put out the fire, but the complex build up of rocks and wood at all exits made it near impossible for the groups to budge them out of the way. The fire had already had it's time spent in the second floor, and the entire thing collapsed. Flames emitted from the wreckage, and a few people standing too close got scorched.
Feeling satisfied, he hopped down from the tree and walked triumphantly past the rubble and the sobbing people. He was almost skipping, having completed his quest, when a spare Molotov fell from his bag. As he bent to pick it up, disruption settled in the crowd. The glee from the destruction of the last plague of his child hood suddenly fled from his body as roars of anger started to spur from the citizens.
Before he could even put the bottle back in his bag, the crowd ensued a chase. A few dozen people now chased him down the street, more joining. He counted himself lucky Zelphia had blessed him with agility as he bolted down the street.
As luck had had it, he managed to evade the group by swerving through the large town on his fast legs. He wound up at the port once more and sought the cheapest ticket.
'GOBAITH - 1S'