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Dinner with Ashley


Stratics Veteran
He grinned under his hood as he watched the man wandering about Skara Brae, he would be perfect, he thought. This man will make fine sport. Dervish turned quickly and made for the Moongate, casting off the shroud and mounting his ostard as he arrived in the forests of Yew, setting off for the small cabin he had appropriated for his own use.

A short ride later the stepped off his mount fluidly and opened the door, Omen was already waiting for him, good. "Where have you been?" he asked the Jukari impatiently, " Hunting. I've found one. A man of Olympus. He will make easy prey". Omen nearly smiled at that, "Good. We will make an example of him, the Alliance will soon learn the price for standing against us. Take me to him."

Dervish and Omen arrived at the mainland of Skara shortly, where his fellow Jukari Fateweaver waited patiently. "Do they know of our presence?" Fate shook his head simply, "The man is still within the city, but heading this way. He is alone." Dervish grinned with hunger, "Good, go inside the hut and wait for the signal" Dervish dismounted and tied the ostard to a tree and leaned his spear conspicuously against the doorway of the hut before stepping inside and concealing himself in the corner.

Dervish heard the footsteps and the pause, knowing that they had been spotted, and the scurrying feet shortly after. He nodded silently to the others, the bait had been taken, now to hope he returned without an army in tow...
Only minutes later he heard them again, two sets, they stepped through the doorway carelessly.

"In Sanct Grav!" he heard Omen shout, the two turned to run but found themselves trapped, as the Jukari wounded them in a flash of blades. Dervish shouted to Omen "Take him! Quickly!", as the mage dragged the unconscious Ashley through the moongate, the sound of hooves already thundering on the road. Turning to the doorway he grinned at the ranger who had come first, watching the kidnapping through the energy field, unable to help.
The field dropped and a brief skirmish broke out with the arriving reinforcements, Dervish taking a minor arrow wound in the escape, he slowly made his way to the Yew hideout...

Omen Tailamont

Stratics Veteran
**WARNING: The following story(ies) contains language of a somewhat graphic and adult nature. Reader discretion advised.**

As the all-too-familiar feeling of stepping through the moon gate subsided, Omen Tailamont drug the body beside him, holding the man's arm around his shoulders. The man groaned into his ears as they moved, slowly regaining consciousness. The gate had spilled the duo out in front of a small, secluded farm house on the West side of the City of Yew, far from prying eyes. The location was not happenstance- it had been painstakingly selected and cleared of bystanders for some time now. Moving briskly, The Hand of Treachery kicked the small wooden door open and quickly pulled his captive inside.

"Who...," the man practically whimpered coming to his senses. "Who are you?"

Omen immediately slammed his elbow into the man's solar plexus. "Shut up," he spat. That fool show at the meeting with the King the night before was still fresh in the dark mage's mind. His teeth clenched and his entire body burned with a white hot rage. They sounded like nothing more than infants begging for the intervention of an adult. Intervention, Omen knew, that would never come. They infuriated him. He was determined to make them pay for running to Britain like spoiled children. Ashley's legs gave out as his elbow slammed home. Omen could hear the wind rush from the Guardian's lungs as his abdomen muscles spasm'd uncontrollably, not allowing for normal breath. The Hand of Treachery drug the gasping man through the front room towards the farm house's storage area.

Able to breath again, the man's eyes were wet with tears; both from gasping for air as well as from terror. "Please," the man begged through sobs. "I'm no one." They were in the back room of the farm house now. Omen Tailamont continued holding the man upright as he spoke. In an instant, The Hand of Treachery's fist smashed against the man's jaw. His legs gave out and this time, Omen watched him crumple to the ground. He balled up all of the hatred and weakness he felt for Dramora's alliance and directed the fury at the man that knelt before him, spitting blood onto the dirt floor of an abandoned shack. He kicked him square in the stomach, watching as Ashley rose off the ground slightly, then slammed belly first back to earth with a grunt. The man was pathetic. In that instant, Omen Tailamont hated him more than anything else. The man would suffer for the sins of his entire alliance. "I said 'shut up'," he said again.

Ashley rolled into the fetal position. As he did so, the mage could see the dark stain spread across the man's groin as his bladder loosened in terror. Omen Tailamont reached down, yanked the man back to his feet and flung him as hard as he could into the room's corner. Ashley slammed into the wooden wall with a satisfying thud that shook the planks and brought a curtain of dust from the rafters into the air before he crumpled once again and continued to whimper. Again, Omen moved towards him and yanked the man back to his feet. Without so much as another word, his fist slammed into the side of the man's head once again as the Guardian's body went limp into unconsciousness. Omen let him drop like a sack back into the corner.

As he made his way towards the front of the farm house, he could hear from the commotion that the Hand's of Blood and Retaliation had finally arrived.

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

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