| "If
they can't appreciate me then they will just have to
do without my presence." The Abbot Colin Cedric
slowly wanders down the dark street away from the Inn
of the Decapitated Orc. His mind is on what has just
transpired. "They want to gang up on me and throw
me out then so be it. I can live without the likes of
them." The Abbot is still in shock over what had
just happened. His shock is cut short as he hears footsteps
coming fast from behind.
The Abbot spins to see a short dark figure charging
in his direction from the inn. "Ye lousy piece
of meat! I will teach you a few lessons on being aggravating.
First you gotta be direct." Ghrimm breaks from
the shadows and hits the shocked cleric full in the
chest with his shoulder spikes. The Cleric's body
flails like a limp doll as Ghrimm continues his charge
and slams into the stone wall of a home. The Abbot
slides off Ghrimm's shoulder spikes and lies lifeless
on the street, propped against the building in a sitting
position. Blood pours forth from his wounds and pools
around the body, too much blood for the cleric's robes
to absorb.
"Second thing about getting on people's nerves
is you can't ever lose your head when things get bad."
Ghrimm brings his deadly two-handed blade singing
across at Abbot's neck. The blade hits with a loud
clang as it bounces off the wall behind the cleric's
neck. The head flies into the mud of a nearby puddle
as more blood erupts from the headless body. "Seems
to me that you failed both." Ghrimm walks over
to the puddle and grabs the head from the puddle.
Lifting it up so he can look in its eyes he shakes
his head and smirks, "this was too easy."
Ghrimm drags the body into the dark alley between
the two buildings and covers it up lightly with some
trash, knowing full well that in the morning the body
will have attracted rats and probably the authorities.
Turning back in the direction of the inn, Ghrimm again
enters the shadows.
Inside the Inn everyone is still in shock at the
behavior of the seemingly calm cleric. Torgal, sitting
quietly over in a corner, drinks his dark ale and
broods, his mood having turned very dark since the
Abbot left. The crowd starts as a front window smashes
in and a head, the cleric's head, splashes to the
floor. "You can add that to my damage bill! It
was worth it! Mmwwwahahahahahahhah!" Ghrimm cries
from the darkness of the street outside. Everyone
looks at the head but it is Ryle that comes out from
the bar and picks it up.
"Put it on ice Ryle, I may rename the bar, or
put it in my private booth." Torgal's grim expression
gets darker as he downs his ale and gets up to leave.
Ryle already heading for the cellar to do Torgal's
wish.
|
