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Rage of the Fallen -- IC

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TheMammoth
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« on: February 15, 2011, 01:17:09 pm »

Galil… I hate Galil. All of these people moving self-absorbed in their own foolishness, lost among their petty squabbles and useless battles. They don’t understand their purpose here. They scheme and conspire, keeping their subjects beaten and downtrodden. The King , Gabriel Tavex, loves to guide them to beating their own people into submission. He is worse than all of them, hiding in his castle behind his countless guards.  Sickening… I would like to see them all burn…

Small flames permeated the darkness of the night, lighting the dark and dreary streets that wound through this large city, the surrounding urban area for the King’s fortress. The people here were typically among the rich, but it was clear where the poor resided. Small dilapidated shelters in the east wing of the city, where the downtrodden and starving struggled to find a way to survive, laughed at by their masters. The night was a welcoming calm for these poor people who suffered while the sun mocked their existence. The heat of the summer died down during the night, and they were given minor reprieve from the suffering they faced while they still had the misfortune to breathe.  Even the moon decided to keep itself hidden behind the clouds, not wishing to wake these poor unfortunate beings.

In the alleyway, a small puff of smoke wafted toward the sky before disappearing into the darkness. The small red light lit a face of a man that was grizzled with stubble and dirt. He looked like a man who had seen his fair share of hardship. His deep set eyes surveyed the darkness as a city guard walked by the alley and stopped for a moment to look at him, before continuing on. Surprisingly enough, many of the soldiers were from the same upbringing, and detested the brutality that the King commanded of them. The man tossed down the last of the small wrapped tobacco stick on the ground, leaving it in the gutter to burn out its ember. Wiping his long black hair from his eyes, his grizzled features contorted to a scowl as he walked through the alleyway, the slight breeze blowing his overcoat back to reveal the tips of two blades hiding on his hips.

---

“Hah! That fool elf girl should just sit down and take what I decide to give her…” The corpulent old bastard laughed as the elf girl below him, naked and shivering in fear, cried for fear of being raped once more by this sick old man. Such was the life of the servants who served these bastards of the aristocracy.

“Come on, Gerard. It’s my turn…” another hissed out, the thin friend to the sick bastard waiting for his turn to ravage the poor soaked girl lying at his feet.

“Yes yes… Get on with it, Hammond.” The fat bastard said, forcing more red wine down his sweaty and flabby gullet, pouring some down the front of his disgusting body as he missed his fat mouth. Hammond and Gerard, the Earls of Houses Danal and Faust, respectively, were sick bastards whose brutality was well documented. Yet, these were the actions that the king decided were tolerable. The servants were not living, they were meant to be used for the pleasure and satisfaction of the aristocracy.

The whining girl got quiet for a moment as Hammond moved over her, Gerard laughed as he turned around to pour more wine, “Oh, I think she likes you, Hammond… Hammond?” The old bastard turned around and dropped his glass, the wine spilling all over his feet as the glass shattered below him. Hammond stood gagging on his own blood, a knife rammed into his throat and his hands cupping where his genitals used to be. He staggered backwards, his gaunt frame turning a pale white as he fell to the ground, bleeding out as his gags turned to coughs and soon nothing.

“Good God… Ga--” Gerard went to yell out when he was met with a hand to the throat from the darkness behind him.

“Remember me, fat man?” Meridius said, his harsh and gravel-ridden voice rumbling out of his throat toward the man trembling in his grasp.

“Mer- Merid--“ Gerard tried to speak, but he couldn’t breathe.

“Good. Glad to see you didn’t forget.” Meridius said as he pushed the fat bastard toward the wall, letting go of the man’s neck just long enough to pull the knife from his lecherous friend’s throat. With a swift setting of the blade, he grinned sickly as the fat bastard before him trembled with fear. Watching as the slob screamed out, Meridius removed his genitals with one quick pull of the blade. The blood pouring out would without a doubt kill him in time, no less than the sick bastard deserved. Meridius picked the old man’s goods off the floor and stuffed them in the old thug's filthy mouth before slamming Gerard's jaw shut with his fist. When the guards arrived, they were greeted with two dead Earls, their genitals removed, and their faces locked in the agony that accompanied their deaths. The elf girl was gone.

---

Down in the poor district of the city, Meridius left the poor elf girl on the doorstep of a local church. She had long since feinted from exhaustion and terror, but the priests and clerics would take care of her. Rapping on the door, he disappeared into the night. He knew he would need to flee the city soon, for a full search would be conducted soon to hunt for the man who murdered two lords in their homes. One thing was for sure, whatever had happened to Meridius while he was gone, the upper class would start trembling at night.

---

The next day, the soldiers found the elf girl and questioned her. The church protected her from being taken away, as Meridius expected they would do, and the soldiers were not about to murder clergymen in cold blood. The girl explained the man that they she had seen, and recalled the words Gerard tried to spit out. No doubt others that had hired him would remember his name, and know that they were not safe as well. Needless to say, Meridius knew his identity would be revealed soon, and he needed to escape the town before news got out. If anything would embolden the people to act on the revolts that they spoke of in dark corners, an old mercenary murdering two Earls in the safety of their own homes while they continued their unending debauchery would shine a little fear of those once forgotten servants.

---

Weeks later, word of the acts carried out by the long forgotten mercenary had reached far and wide. He was a wanted man, something that was not new to him. He found himself a few hundred miles away, sitting in a small tavern, swilling a house made whiskey that tasted like it was distilled in a lumberjacks armpit. The night was young, and this town was far removed from the military might kept near Galil. The fear Meridius had struck into the aristocracy pulled much of the regional military to the capital, letting local militias police their people. Meridius’ plan had worked this far, leading to the perfect atmosphere for a revolution to arise. However, he did not know where to go from here. He was a symbol for the people now, whether they acted on that symbol was up to them.

The drawings of the man were crude at best, eyewitness description from the elf was either intentionally fraudulent, or just poor as is usual. Either way, Meridius did not fear detection this far out in Tavexis (the nation). Most of what he had heard were positive toward his actions, and he trusted his skills to disappear should someone loyal to the throne detect him…



« Last Edit: February 15, 2011, 03:58:10 pm by TheMammoth » Report Spam   Logged

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« Reply #1 on: February 16, 2011, 12:57:07 am »

"So then I told him: 'Hey, it's not like I knew she was your daughter. You should be a responsible parent and tell her to dress more respectably and maybe I won't mistake her for a hooker next time, or better yet you could make some money right now,' then the bastard takes a swing but I'm too fast you see... Idiot missed out on a good financial opportunity" said a small man, looking more like a child from behind, but with a voice big enough to barely be heard over the singing and general merrymaking of the local bard and his crowd.

"Be a doll and pour me another, would you toots?" said the man, from the front clearly too haggard to be a child as he flipped the barmaid a gold coin. "Take half for the drink, and the other half for tonight!" he exclaimed, before feeling the familiar and no less painful then usual sensation of a deceivingly powerful slap to the right side of his face.

"So I'm a prostitute now, huh Wade?!" bellowed the young barmaid, face red with anger, a stark contrast to the golden blond hair braided roughly halfway down her back. "G-G-Garnet, I was just kiddin' around!" Wade pleaded, as he felt himself being pulled roughly forward by the collar of his cloak. "You know, you're lucky my dad owes you, or else I-" "Hey uh, so did I ever tell you that you have such beautiful hair?!" Wade blurted out, cutting her off.

Yeah, that'll do it... Wade thought to himself, as he felt the tension of Garnet's grasp loosen and eventually subside entirely.

"Whatever..." she said, sliding his drink towards him "but you're done after that one you sick bastard!" "Sure, sure!" Wade complied, standing up off his stool and taking a massive gulp from his drink as Garnet, clearly still angered, turned around and directed her attention elsewhere. Luckily I still got the good stuff, you stupid wench... he thought, turning towards the main seating area of the tavern, lightly patting the flask of whiskey that lie under his cloak.


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