Terror's Wrath

[Omen Tailamont]

"S-s-s-strike!," the voice hissed through the air. "S-s-strike now!" it continued. Omen Tailamont regarded the undead lich before him. Malakai seemed to more float over the dark crimson carpet of Mikael D'Amavir's private study than he did to actually walk across it. "Guardian demands-s-s it!"

"I could not agree more, old friend," Omen turned back towards The Hand of Terror. "What happened at the Knights Rest Inn cannot be allowed to stand unanswered any longer," Mikael's gaze showed he was lost in thought, considering the options. "We must show them that defiance will not be tolerated."

"Blow was s-s-stru-uck," the hollow voice again filled the room. It was ice cold. Even after all this time, The Hand of Treachery could still swear that the creature's voice was less spoken and heard... and more driven like a spike into his head. Any conversation with the Hand of Decay always left the mage with a headache. "Killed one of the flesh-h-h rangers-s-s..."

Mikael D'Amavir's gaze shifted back from wherever it had been to regard the two. He nodded his head slowly. "You are right," he said at last. "'Tis time to show these wretched people the price of insolence." He smiled a cruel smile. "Take from them the things they love. Show them there is nowhere my Hand does not reach."

Omen nodded in acknowledgement. "Go," Mikael demanded, "Inform me once it's done."

As The Hands of Treachery, Decay and Blood sallied forth out of Dread Keep, their destination was never in question; Rangers from Skara Brae had been at the Knights Rest Inn the evening before. They had openly defied Mikael's will and as such, the Ranger's Guild would suffer his wrath. The City of Spirituality would be The Hand's first victim.

Omen Tailamont
The Hand of Treachery >H<
ICQ: 22265202

"The only way to make good is to be bad."

 

[Omen Tailamont]

The chest was vile, but, the point it made was very clear: stay out of our way or wind up in a box. Together with The Hand of Blood, Omen Tailamont lugged the metal lined chest upwards and dropped it unceremoniously onto the street in front of The Shattered Skull Tavern in Skara Brae, spilling blood, bones and organ matter onto the cobblestone. The sun was setting and a steady stream of people were cheerfully making their way past the doors into the light beyond. Even with the foul stench that was already rolling it's way out of the chest, no one seemed to pay the three Hand members any mind as it hit the ground with a loud thud. He could hear the sounds of drinks clanking and people laughing from inside the tavern. This was a good spot. The Ranger's Guild was sure to get the message.

"You there," Omen called to a small group headed towards the door. The group of people stopped to listen, but, regarded him with disdain. "We have a gift for you," he proclaimed. "We wish to return something you seem to have lost."

Several members of the group seemed to be confused. "I haven't lost anything," one of them sneered.

The Hand of Decay moved towards one of the men, a bloody bow in his bony hand: "Retu-u-urn this-s-s," the lich hissed. "The former owner no longer ne-e-e-eds-s it."

Omen Tailamont motioned towards the bow in Malakai's hand: "Are you sure you haven't lost something? We took that off of one of your dead Rangers."

The group seemed to pay little attention to the chest or the bow. "I'm not a ranger," was the only reply. The Hand of Treachery laughed internally: a box full of body parts and these so-called "compassionate" fools could still think of nothing but getting drunk at a tavern! His patience was gone. "Fine then," he snapped. "Make sure you let the Rangers know to stay out of our way or more of their citizens will pay the price."

He took one last look at the blood soaked chest. "Also, you might want to clean that up. It's starting to smell."

Omen Tailamont
The Hand of Treachery >H<
ICQ: 22265202

"The only way to make good is to be bad."

 

[Omen Tailamont]

The message sent in Skara Brae, the Hands of Treachery, Blood and Decay headed east towards the moongate and Yew. Mikael D'Amavir's instructions had been clear: "Take from them everything they love." The Hand of Treachery intended to do just that to Aeydon Durreah and his Village of Aegis.

Omen Tailamont looked at the slashed and charred remains that had been the patrons of the Knights Rest Inn. Blood ran freely, seeping into the floor as the dark men had slaughtered them all to a single person. The bodies were strewn about the tavern's main dining hall and left for Aeydon to discover.

Again, the message was clear: stay out of the way or suffer.

Omen Tailamont
The Hand of Treachery >H<
ICQ: 22265202

"The only way to make good is to be bad."