The Butcher

[Drankathar]

He could still smell it, that sickly sweet metallic smell that haunted his dreams. He could still see it, the colour of it enticed him. He could almost taste it again. He let his feet guide him as his mind raced to distracted to care, all he wanted was more. He sniffed at the air and looked to the moon. Tonight this new god wanted him to prove himself, to show him that he was worthy to bear his mark. He absently rubbed at his chest, letting his hand trace the all to familiar scar of a claw burnt into his chest through the thick leather of his armor. The new mark of his new master.

What had golden boy's child said? Child sacrifices? Child killers… Ashleigh… His mind raced back to the image of the dark haired girl that was his sister. She had died a child. He'd failed her like so many others, but not again. Never again. He would show her that he wouldn’t fail again; he'd bring his new master the fury that he so demanded. He would hunt these child killers and they would die… Violently. He looked up to where his feet had taken him. The western docks of Immurks hold. They where here somewhere, the child had said so. He looked down at what dragged along behind him. It was one of their robes, he didn’t even realise he had it with him. Perhaps this would provide the key to getting to them? He pulled the robe over his armor and started looking for more of these child killers.

It wasn't to long before he found another. He was dressed the same and standing outside an odd looking building. The door looked to be reinforced but the rest of the building looked to be run down. The man greeted him and exchanged some pleasantries before asking him if he was the one that they where waiting for inside. He casually replayed that he was the one and the door was quickly opened. Once inside the other child killers treated him like a brother, warm welcomes that made him feel sick. One questioned him on the name of their god, a test to see if he was the one. He replayed that to say the name was blasphemy. The other man seemed content and led him to the rear of the house and motioned him down some stairs to the basement.

The basement was filled with boxes and crates. It had somewhat of a stale smell to it as well as being rather dimly lit. He made his way amongst the crates to be greeted with a group of child killers. There was one that looked to be an authority figure. The leader carefully began to eye him. "I sense no faith from this one" He stated rather plainly before beginning to chant quietly to this nameless god. Some of the others seemed to be startled at their leaders revelation before joining in on the chant as well. He could feel the fell magic being cast upon him, it was opening the old scars and wounds, and blood began to flow freely from the scars as they split anew. He growled low and began to act on instinct, closing the distance to the child killers quickly and drawing his two blessed short swords from under his robes. Cries of anguish and death began to echo in the small basement. He showed them no mercy, he didn’t let up until they all stopped moving. Blood sprayed against his face as he slashed out against the leader. Then he stopped and stood motionless as they fell as one around him. He grinned as he looked over the bodies of the child killers, and then began to drag them into a small storage room near where they had fallen. He could taste that sweet metallic taste again, he could smell it with each breath that he took, and he could see the colour and how he loved it. He held his blades out before him and watched as the blood slowly dripped off the end of his blessed short swords. He tilted his head to watch the reflection of the single candle in the room as its light hit the droplets of blood. A noise at the door startled him out of his day dream, someone was coming. He grinned, more child killers to come to their deaths. He hid behind the door as it opened and watched his new victim enter the room. He watched him as he called out to the others that where meant to be down there. He watched him as he slipped on the blood of the others that had just died. He grinned at his startled cry and then he made his move. Shutting the door quickly and springing from the shadows blades drawn, he pounced on the child killer.

"Where are the children?" he asked coolly, his blades pressed against the child killer's throat. "Through.. th..the secret passage!" the child killer stammered. "Show me.." he answered simply and removed the blades to let the child killer stand. The child killer led him to a large chest "in..in there" he stammered. "Show… me NOW!" he snapped back at him. The child killer turned and opened the chest then made a fatal mistake. The child killer's hand moved for his knife on his belt. He doubt the child killer realized he was dead until it was to late. He grinned as he watched him collapse and die before him. That smell returned as the man died and so did the colour. He grinned more as he turned for the stairs that lead out of the building. He could feel himself losing control of his actions as his fury took control of himself but he didn’t care. He wanted more, he wanted to bathe in it, to drink it, to watch it as it spilt out of these child killers.

As he crested the top of the stairs he fell on another of the child killer's. Slashing wildly at his neck and chest with his short swords he made quick work of him before his companions knew what was happening. The rest began to fall shortly after, the blood flowing fast and thick splattering the walls and himself as he hacked and chopped at the child killers giving into his fury. It was over a few moments later though he was breathing hard from the effort. He felt drained as he stood there. Blood was dripping into his eyes and he wasn't sure if it was his or the child killers. He held his swords up above his head and roared in triumph. He grinned, he had shown his new master his fury, he had given him a sacrifice and a hunt that he could judge him by, he was happy.

A startled cry awoke him from his daydream. He looked over to see two of the towns guards standing at the doorway, their faces a mix of shock, disgust and horror. "You… Butcher!" one of the guards stammered. He tried to reason with them, to tell them why he was here, to tell them about the children but they wouldn’t listen. His body ached from the wounds inflicted to it, he felt exhausted from the fury he had driven himself into. He held his hands to his chest and whispered a prayer to his master, "Lord of fury, he that hunts… hide me from my preys eyes". He felt something wash over his body and looked up to see both guards startled, one began to cry out to the guards outside, to warn them that the butcher had disappeared and escaped. He ran.

[Rotku]

Nice