Log:Vengeance for Ekam
| Vengeance for Ekam | |
|---|---|
"It may be good to get you some things so you aren't as covered in blood. Or least so not all of you's crimson." | |
| Participants
Velvet, Weaver Utridge, Saulot as ST |
1 May, 2018 Velvet is hired to take a little revenge for a murdered hob. |
| Location
The Hedge | |
| Weaver had called the next afternoon with an offer. Despite how late in the day the call came he was yawning at the time. There's a hob city of sorts that starts on the opposite end of the riverside markets, and the dragon has a friend down there. As much as anything can be considered a friend for the selfish bastard. A hob he bought fruit from was recently killed, and Weaver needs two things. Find out who is responsible, kill everything close to them, and ensure they fulfill the same role Emak once filled. The market isn't too hard to find in the mortal side of thing, and the gate is where Weaver said it would be. Past the hedge-based riverside markets and a winding alley come the row houses. It's here she knows she's at least close to where she was pointed. A few hobs native to the area and sellers at the hedge-Riverside Markets can be seen moving about this late at night, although the houses appear to be dreadfully empty with nary a bit of light to be seen. The sky above is full of grey, and the only life to be found there come by way of lightning like things that create a sonorous, bellowing echo whenever they stop.
There's only one way to properly explore a Hob area, and that's as quietly as possible. Be invisible and leave no tracks. Nothing for anyone to see or to follow. It's exactly what Velvet does at the moment as her feet barely touch the ground, steps silent as she moves through the market. A small knife is poised in one hand, a pistol in the other. Those dark, angled eyes are focused and sharp as she makes her way towards where the Hob-friend was murdered. Maybe there's hints at who was behind it, or a trail of blood that might help identify the culprit.
It'd been a few days, but the place of Emak's death is found by the Darkling. An impression of something humanoid was left in the dirt near the side of a green house. From the look of it the decedent wasn't more than four feet tall at best. All around it are footprints equally as small, and after a bit of counting they number at least two dozen. From here the prints of feet begin to make their way back toward the street. The body of Ekam was taken from here, dragged down one of the area's dark alleys by something with five legs.
Crouching faintly, Velvet turns this way and that in order to make out the footprints, and create a visual for herself on what the scene might have looked like at the time. Multiple assailants for certain. Dark lashes flutter closed for a moment as the Wyrd dances around her invisible form. She takes a sharp inhale as she increases her sense of smell, leaning forward a little bit more to try to catch the scent of whatever these creatures were that belong to the footprints. Once that's done, she pushes her palms into her thighs, careful of the weapons, and starts to follow the drag marks towards the dark alley.
The scent left behind reeks of offal, although it's nothing to do with the murder. It seems whatever treats enjoyed from the hobs involved some pluck. Beyond that there's a faint hint of a rosy smell with a hint of burnt leaves. Velvet finds the marks easy enough to follow, and they appear to have been left well after the death of of Ekam. The walk is a couple dozen meters long, but at the end of her journey she finds what's left of Ekam. The hob wore a tunic and trousers - both ripped to shreds to reveal the inside of the devoured corpse. Despite the damage to his trunk his head, hands, and legs are fine upon a simple, cursory inspection.
The thing that ate up Ekam wasn't the best for the job. Ie, it wasn't a natural predator of the area most likely. The beast that dragged it over here had as many blunt teeth as it did sharp, and didn't leave any of the hob's organs to be found after the fact. The underside of the hob's nails are covered in blood, but a look at his body shows that it isn't the same as his assailants. The hob's blood is emerald, and there's a mixture of black and red under his nails. From the looks of everything around and what's been gathered Ekam was asleep when dragged outside, and devoured before he could offer any kind of resistance. A beast brought him here - either for a later meal or under instruction to hide it away and let it rot.
Instead of three little pigs, there are four. It looks like this big, bad wolf is about ready to bring the house down around their ears. The wicked, sharp smile that plays along her lips cannot be seen as Velvet takes a slow step towards the door, doing a quick check to make sure it isn't rigged or trip wired. Hobs can be so paranoid. Once she realizes it's all clear, the Wyrd once again flutters around her before she takes a handful of steps forward, moving right through the door as if it'd been open the whole time. Silent feet guide her way through the room, knife toyed with in her hand as she considers the group. She stalks between them, her nostrils flaring as she tries to figure out which one of them the blood scent is coming from. She pauses, those sharp heels going still as her eyes widen. More than four. A lot more than four. Well, this will be a record for her, then. The blade twists in her hand for a moment before she walks up towards the end of one of the beds, head tilting as she studies the little hob. With a little touch of Darkness, they'll all sleep soundly until it's their turn to die. She doesn't want to be interrupted, after all.
There isn't a thing to interrupt the assassin as she skulks through the hob house. The hobs don't look too dissimilar from each other. It'd take an eye for detail to spot the few differences between them. A scar here or there, an odd birthmark, and the way one snores like a dog howling at the moon. Another pair of bedrooms lie in the back, four hobs in each. Upstairs she has to head next, and right across from the top of the stairwell is the beast that ate Ekam. It doesn't look that much different than the other hobs from the waist up, although its arms are just a bit longer. Below the waist is a body more akin to a large dogs with hands for feet that silently scratch at the ground as he snores. The other bedrooms are as easily snuck into, although two others appear to be completely empty. In one of those rooms she can pick up the faint odor of Ekam's now departing scent.
Some of them die immediately, never having a chance to wake up and feast their eyes on their murderer, but some of them? Oh, some of them wake up as the blade cuts, Velvet hovering over them or seated on their chest, sneering down with the face of the hob they murdered so brutally. One after the other after the other, her glee only seems to brighten with each death. She's splattered and stained from arterial spray, almost dancing between the victims as she puts them down. The Beast is dealt with and then it's on to the last room. Three of the four are slaughtered, the cuts a little more shallow this time around to make sure they die slowly, poked and prodded with the blade until the are finally out of blood to spill. She comes upon the last one, Velvet's eyes narrowing as her blood stained hand and blade hover oh-so close to his face. Her hand trembles, the flat of the blade drawn across his cheek, leaving a smear of blood as she wars with herself. Wouldn't it be nice to kill an even number of them? All of them? It's like a raw ache she doesn't want to refuse. "You're lucky he wants one of you to talk to," she eventually hisses out as she slowly allows her body to shift back into itself. She grabs his face, careful not to hurt him, pulling it to the side so that she can lick off the blood she smeared across his face. "So lucky," she growls before starting to heft him up and shove him into a large sack, bound and gagged.
The last hob initially starts screaming bloody murder when Velvet grabs his face. "No!" he shouts. He echoes it over and over before he's tossed to the side, and he screams, "We fed you to-" His voice cut short as he's bound and gagged, trying to resist as best he can until he's shoved into the sack. He tries to shake, tussle, and mumble his way free, but eventually he grows too tired to give much of anything else beyond the occasional shifting and movement.
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