Post by Tekk on Sept 18, 2006 18:35:55 GMT -5
A new city - New rules. As always, with new rules came new buisness practices, with new buisness came new clients, with new clients came new money - and that was all that the hierling was interested in. If you had the gold to pay, he was the man (albeit half-man) to see.
The alleyways were dark with the opressive weight of the night. The moon was hidden behind thick grey cloud and few stars shone in the velvet blanket of the night sky. A man would be hard pressed to see in this gloom without a burning torch, but killers eyes took in the scene, drinking in the sights of the back alleys as the killers senses devoures the scents and sounds.
This place was foul, and that was just the way he liked it. Foul, uncouth, spoiled and brimfull of whores, beggars and cutthroats who none would miss, should they dissapear altogether and become but a faded memory.
Suddenly the sound of steel on stone echoed about the alley and light and sound rushed in. The killer melted into the shadows as two of the city watch ran past - swprds drawn and flaming torches in their hands, yelling to nearby guardsmen as they ran. Something of interest was happening in the city tonight. Oh yes indeed, he had felt it - known it, but cared little. It was a fools errand to insert one's nose where it had no place and risk loosing it. No. Our killer only longed for one thing this night - blood. Blood. Blood.
the thought echoed through his mind as he moved through the shadows, leaping silently from rooftop to rooftop with catlike agility and grace, those cold, red killer's eyes scanning the alleys, until they found their mark.
Movement in the alley, but no sense of life - no scent of blood, no heartbeat. Nothing. As our killer rounded the corner he looked down to see a shambling, rotting corpse dragging its feet through the alleyways, searching for life as he was - but this was repulsive. Such a low form of life (could it be called that) should not be allowed to continue its pathetic existance.
With that thought, the killer's boots left the rooftops and came down on the corpses decaying shoulders. A splintering of dry bones and tearing of rotten flesh echoed about the alley as the creature was reduced to a quivering lump of gravemould.
A heartbeat - someone coming. In seconds the killer was gone, watching and waiting, ready to strike - hungry to feed.
The alleyways were dark with the opressive weight of the night. The moon was hidden behind thick grey cloud and few stars shone in the velvet blanket of the night sky. A man would be hard pressed to see in this gloom without a burning torch, but killers eyes took in the scene, drinking in the sights of the back alleys as the killers senses devoures the scents and sounds.
This place was foul, and that was just the way he liked it. Foul, uncouth, spoiled and brimfull of whores, beggars and cutthroats who none would miss, should they dissapear altogether and become but a faded memory.
Suddenly the sound of steel on stone echoed about the alley and light and sound rushed in. The killer melted into the shadows as two of the city watch ran past - swprds drawn and flaming torches in their hands, yelling to nearby guardsmen as they ran. Something of interest was happening in the city tonight. Oh yes indeed, he had felt it - known it, but cared little. It was a fools errand to insert one's nose where it had no place and risk loosing it. No. Our killer only longed for one thing this night - blood. Blood. Blood.
the thought echoed through his mind as he moved through the shadows, leaping silently from rooftop to rooftop with catlike agility and grace, those cold, red killer's eyes scanning the alleys, until they found their mark.
Movement in the alley, but no sense of life - no scent of blood, no heartbeat. Nothing. As our killer rounded the corner he looked down to see a shambling, rotting corpse dragging its feet through the alleyways, searching for life as he was - but this was repulsive. Such a low form of life (could it be called that) should not be allowed to continue its pathetic existance.
With that thought, the killer's boots left the rooftops and came down on the corpses decaying shoulders. A splintering of dry bones and tearing of rotten flesh echoed about the alley as the creature was reduced to a quivering lump of gravemould.
A heartbeat - someone coming. In seconds the killer was gone, watching and waiting, ready to strike - hungry to feed.