Open RP: At Lake Adron

[Alexander Knight]

These are the darkest months of the year, but light can still be found if one only looks for it - sometimes in the most peculiar of places. From the bottom of Lake Adron comes a faint glow. Down in the depths of its murky waters, the lake cradles a rusted armor with a single hole through the stomach. It is this armor that emits the glow.

A dark figure huddles at the shore on the outskirts of the town of Troll's Bane, as if it is the Grim or Black Shuck, come to watch the spot. It braces itself against the chilling air rushing over the lake's surface and onwards. The blustering, chilling wind races east across the snow and past barren trees, towards the imposing walls built to protect the town from what lay beyond. The torches left burning outside flicker, their flames threatening to blow out. Some of them do. The light from within the lake remains unwavering.

The figure stands, its identity concealed by its black cloak, so large that it drapes over the being beneath it, enshrouding its shape. The hood of the cloak falls over the figure's eyes, casting a shadow over the material shielding the bottom half of the creature's face from the chilling air. It draws two lengths of rope from within its cloak and ties a stone to the end of each before twisting the weighted ends of rope together and tossing the weight to the most strongly illuminated patch of water, the center of the glow. The being holds onto both unweighted ends of rope, drawing the weighted section back to the bank when it does not catch on the source of the glow.

It tosses again, and this time, the knot catches. The rope becomes taut, and the figure on the shore pulls the weight of the stones and its catch towards itself, fishing it up out of the water. Crouching down beside it, the figure looks over the wet, ice cold prize. The unfiltered luminescence of the armor reveals the material covering the lower half of the figure's face to be a red scarf. The figure stares down at the armor...and what remains of the man who once wore it. All of him seems in tact - aside from his head, that is, which is very much missing.

The figure touches the beheaded's hand, pausing momentarily to look down at the blue, frozen fingers. Two fingers are missing; the ring finger and the little finger. This is what remains of Alexander Knight. Once a nigh unstoppable man, he's little more than a partial corpse now. And from the look of it, he's been dead for weeks.



((All are free to join in. Be it burial, revival or anything of the sort. If revival or burial please mail me before hand.))

[Jeisa]

The figure appears to wrap itself around the corpse, pulling it against its dark cloak. It pauses, hood turning ever so slightly as it looks this way than that, out across the white blanket that covers the land. It drops the body, walking around to the top of the armor - where a head should be. Taking hold of the dead man's wrists, the figure leans back, dragging the corpse towards itself as it begins to travel to the portal northeast of Troll's Bane. For one reason or another, it does not cut through the town, but rather takes the long way around. Someone may easily spot the dark figure dragging the corpse along the way.