Shadow waited patiently in the Sewers, sharpening the dull dagger he bought just moments ago from the merchant in the War Quarter. It was getting late, about that time. With a deep sigh, he stood up, and began walking down the slime-covered hall.
With much concentration, he called to her presence.
Drinn felt it. The terrible feeling made her stop in her tracks. She waited a moment, looking left and right. She was standing silently in the Ruins of Lordaeron, wondering where he was. Though uneasy, she needed to move forward, it was dangerous standing still.
"...Come here, Drinn. Surely you want Skumm to live... You have 5 minutes."
Drinn collapsed outside of the elevator. She clenched her fists at the mention of his name and began running.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It took only moments for her to arrive. She stared at Shadow with blind anger. Without thinking, she released her blades from their sheaths and lunged forward at Shadow. Her blades waved forward with no accuracy or control, just mindless slashing.
In defense, Shadow had formed a barrier, which was hardly scratched with all of Drinn's fury. "You will find that it is useless... come and follow. You know you cannot run, and you will die... why resist?"
Shadow turned towards the exit of the Sewers, and began walking as if Drinn had done nothing. Drinn understood, and she followed.
"I know, you think it is strange. I have no great motive to killing you or the rest of The Grim... but all I have are promises, and I intend to keep them. It is all I hold sacred in this world.. my life is not included. I promised Anaie and Lupen's death.. and I promised that The Grim would fall before I slay them... I am stuck in my own puzzle... But no matter."
They had finally reached the outside of the sewers.
"I told you I would not make it easy for you." Drinn pulled out her blades once more. She sprinted forward with a successful stab at the corrupted forsaken's chest, but he merely cackled as if she had tickled him.
"Ah.. Such a fool." Muttering a few words, Shadow released a cloud of darkness that surrounded the young elf's head. The smoke fed on her last screams, as Shadow retrieved his dagger.
Waving the dagger in his hand, he approached Drinn slowly, grinning wickedly as he performed the surgery.
The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
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Re: The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
by Drinn
"Such a fool."
The bent form of the Forsaken raised his clawed hands and an inky blackness seemed to spill from his fingertips. The dark magic whisped through the air like some sort of noxious vapor and enveloped the young Sin`dorei.
Her vision wavered, the bent form looming closer. Drinn opened her mouth to scream and her lungs burned with the effluvium, silencing her harshly.
Blackness.
She couldn't see. She couldn't scream. Now, collapsed on the ground outside of the gates of the Undercity, ever muscle betrayed her. She felt him draw near. She heard him laugh darkly to himself as he unsheathed his dagger. She would remember every jerk of his blade as he worked to sever her arm with such proficiency.
She counted each heartbeat as it slowed with the continued loss of the blood. It was cold and something passive calmed her.
"Sleep now", Shadow's rasp coiled in her mind, dulling her senses. Yes, she was awfully tired...
"Such a fool."
The bent form of the Forsaken raised his clawed hands and an inky blackness seemed to spill from his fingertips. The dark magic whisped through the air like some sort of noxious vapor and enveloped the young Sin`dorei.
Her vision wavered, the bent form looming closer. Drinn opened her mouth to scream and her lungs burned with the effluvium, silencing her harshly.
Blackness.
She couldn't see. She couldn't scream. Now, collapsed on the ground outside of the gates of the Undercity, ever muscle betrayed her. She felt him draw near. She heard him laugh darkly to himself as he unsheathed his dagger. She would remember every jerk of his blade as he worked to sever her arm with such proficiency.
She counted each heartbeat as it slowed with the continued loss of the blood. It was cold and something passive calmed her.
"Sleep now", Shadow's rasp coiled in her mind, dulling her senses. Yes, she was awfully tired...
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Re: The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
by Skumm
Drinn's trailing words resonated through the stone.
"Stay away."
There had been fear in her voice. More than ever. More than had been there when she first confided in Skumm, telling that DeathShadow had promised to kill her first, before he continued to cut his way through the ranks of The Grim.
"Stay away."
She had been breathless. Running. The light splash of shallow water at her feet. The subtle echo to her words. The ambient noise. Skumm pieced the sounds together - The sewers of Undercity. A place where he and Drinn once met to discuss the threat Death had made against her.
A whole world away, on the Hellfire Peninsula in Outland, Skumm shouted into his stone, "Drinn?"
Seconds passed but no reply came.
"Drinn?"
The seconds turned to minutes. Worry, like a knife, stabbed into his chest. "If ye don't say somethin I'm gonna find ye meself Drinn."
Still no reply - only the muffled sounds of a struggle, barely audible and quickly silenced.
Skumm packed the stone into its case. He looked at his daggers. How dull they seemed. He checked his poisons. How weak they were. He wasn't ready for this and he knew it. He thought they'd have more time. Surely the Grim would have done more to contain the priest had they believed his threats were as real and immediate as they were now proving to be.
He tightened his gloves. Rolled his shoulders. He began making his way to Shattrath as fast as he could.
*****
Skumm stepped from the portal and into the Undercity. The mushroom vendors and abominations wandered the outer ring. The guards remained at their posts. Everything seemed to be business as usual. Though he had not known fear or illness since he had broken free of the scourge, a sickness rose in his stomach. He summoned his horse and rode directly for the sewers, all the while his mind revolved around the threat he was rushing to face, and the young elf who he had grown so fond of.
Beneath the stench of the sewers was the faint smell of Drinn. The slight citrus smell of her skin, though it was heavily weighed down by the smell of blood.
The state of undeath does not lead to many friendships. Skumm had made many allies since he had joined the Grim, but Drinn's life was the only one he would put before his own. Though he wouldn't think in such terms, the fair-skinned rogue had become his best friend.
And so were his thoughts when he emerged from the sewer in Tirisifal. Her body lay still and motionless on the moonlit grass. Her blood painted the ground. Her arm had been cut off, and lay a few feet from her body.
Skumm's instincts took over. He clung to the shadows and walked a circle around her body, hunting for the Priest. He saw nobody, and so he hurriedly returned to Drinn. His battlefield senses held domain over his emotions, for the time being. He felt for a pulse. Real or imagined, he felt something. Skumm gathered Drinn into his arms. She weighed so little, it seemed. He turned back toward the sewers, to carry her into the Undercity, to the only person who knew that could help her in time.
Drinn's trailing words resonated through the stone.
"Stay away."
There had been fear in her voice. More than ever. More than had been there when she first confided in Skumm, telling that DeathShadow had promised to kill her first, before he continued to cut his way through the ranks of The Grim.
"Stay away."
She had been breathless. Running. The light splash of shallow water at her feet. The subtle echo to her words. The ambient noise. Skumm pieced the sounds together - The sewers of Undercity. A place where he and Drinn once met to discuss the threat Death had made against her.
A whole world away, on the Hellfire Peninsula in Outland, Skumm shouted into his stone, "Drinn?"
Seconds passed but no reply came.
"Drinn?"
The seconds turned to minutes. Worry, like a knife, stabbed into his chest. "If ye don't say somethin I'm gonna find ye meself Drinn."
Still no reply - only the muffled sounds of a struggle, barely audible and quickly silenced.
Skumm packed the stone into its case. He looked at his daggers. How dull they seemed. He checked his poisons. How weak they were. He wasn't ready for this and he knew it. He thought they'd have more time. Surely the Grim would have done more to contain the priest had they believed his threats were as real and immediate as they were now proving to be.
He tightened his gloves. Rolled his shoulders. He began making his way to Shattrath as fast as he could.
*****
Skumm stepped from the portal and into the Undercity. The mushroom vendors and abominations wandered the outer ring. The guards remained at their posts. Everything seemed to be business as usual. Though he had not known fear or illness since he had broken free of the scourge, a sickness rose in his stomach. He summoned his horse and rode directly for the sewers, all the while his mind revolved around the threat he was rushing to face, and the young elf who he had grown so fond of.
Beneath the stench of the sewers was the faint smell of Drinn. The slight citrus smell of her skin, though it was heavily weighed down by the smell of blood.
The state of undeath does not lead to many friendships. Skumm had made many allies since he had joined the Grim, but Drinn's life was the only one he would put before his own. Though he wouldn't think in such terms, the fair-skinned rogue had become his best friend.
And so were his thoughts when he emerged from the sewer in Tirisifal. Her body lay still and motionless on the moonlit grass. Her blood painted the ground. Her arm had been cut off, and lay a few feet from her body.
Skumm's instincts took over. He clung to the shadows and walked a circle around her body, hunting for the Priest. He saw nobody, and so he hurriedly returned to Drinn. His battlefield senses held domain over his emotions, for the time being. He felt for a pulse. Real or imagined, he felt something. Skumm gathered Drinn into his arms. She weighed so little, it seemed. He turned back toward the sewers, to carry her into the Undercity, to the only person who knew that could help her in time.
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Re: The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
by Anaie
Anaie smirked slyly as she heard what had happened.
"Finally 'is words become actions... I was beginnin' ta tink dat our dear Shadow was another jabbering fool." Anaie held her hearthstone to her lips and spoke calmly, "Young Grims, I fear your lives may not continue much longah... it seems a Shadow looms over us finally. Be on yer guard, fer da weak or naive amongst ya won't last long."
Patting her pocket, Anaie felt the gem that held some power over the priest, she still needed to speak to Lupen about it. Perhaps the two of them should finally resolve this little problem... "If da Mistress allows it dat is..."
Anaie was honor bound not to slay another Grim without consent, to the Mistress and Chaindog after all...
"Of course... if its in self defense.. dat's anotha story" she said, giggling slightly.
Anaie smirked slyly as she heard what had happened.
"Finally 'is words become actions... I was beginnin' ta tink dat our dear Shadow was another jabbering fool." Anaie held her hearthstone to her lips and spoke calmly, "Young Grims, I fear your lives may not continue much longah... it seems a Shadow looms over us finally. Be on yer guard, fer da weak or naive amongst ya won't last long."
Patting her pocket, Anaie felt the gem that held some power over the priest, she still needed to speak to Lupen about it. Perhaps the two of them should finally resolve this little problem... "If da Mistress allows it dat is..."
Anaie was honor bound not to slay another Grim without consent, to the Mistress and Chaindog after all...
"Of course... if its in self defense.. dat's anotha story" she said, giggling slightly.
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Re: The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
by Skumm
Skumm burst into the Master Apothecary's workshop with the young elf in his arms. He gestured to one of the assistants, who cleared a table for Drinn. Faranell approached, coldy studying the ragged flesh of Drinn's shoulder. His gaze moved to meet Skumm's.
"Why did you bring this body to me?" he asked.
"She still be alive," Skumm said, "She gots a pulse but it be very weak."
The apothecary reached for Drinn's remaining wrist and held it. A moment passed. He shook his head. He leaned down to listen to her chest. Let out a long sigh.
"Well, I wouldn't quite call her alive..."
Skumm stood for a moment longer, then slowly sat down. He reached his hands forward to look at them. They were shaking.
Drinn.
Thoughts and feelings raced through him. He shouldn't have ever left her side. He should have been there to stop him. He could have stopped it. He should have. He had been a fool.
The leather of his gloves creaked as he formed a fist. The guilt and sadness gave way to something else. The deep, black core of his being. The thief. The assasin. The killer. He ached to hunt down the priest. To slide his daggers through his undead flesh. To take him apart, one finger, one toe, one limb at a time, until only his torso and head remained. And then, once the Priest came to know fear strong enough to touch a forsaken one, to sever his head from his body and leave it at the steps of Grim hall. A message to potential betrayers, and further, a warning to anyone who should ever cross Skumm.
Skumm reached for his Hearth stone and called out.
"Priest."
He said, "There be a small Island in Tirisifal. I mean te have some words with ye there."
Skumm burst into the Master Apothecary's workshop with the young elf in his arms. He gestured to one of the assistants, who cleared a table for Drinn. Faranell approached, coldy studying the ragged flesh of Drinn's shoulder. His gaze moved to meet Skumm's.
"Why did you bring this body to me?" he asked.
"She still be alive," Skumm said, "She gots a pulse but it be very weak."
The apothecary reached for Drinn's remaining wrist and held it. A moment passed. He shook his head. He leaned down to listen to her chest. Let out a long sigh.
"Well, I wouldn't quite call her alive..."
Skumm stood for a moment longer, then slowly sat down. He reached his hands forward to look at them. They were shaking.
Drinn.
Thoughts and feelings raced through him. He shouldn't have ever left her side. He should have been there to stop him. He could have stopped it. He should have. He had been a fool.
The leather of his gloves creaked as he formed a fist. The guilt and sadness gave way to something else. The deep, black core of his being. The thief. The assasin. The killer. He ached to hunt down the priest. To slide his daggers through his undead flesh. To take him apart, one finger, one toe, one limb at a time, until only his torso and head remained. And then, once the Priest came to know fear strong enough to touch a forsaken one, to sever his head from his body and leave it at the steps of Grim hall. A message to potential betrayers, and further, a warning to anyone who should ever cross Skumm.
Skumm reached for his Hearth stone and called out.
"Priest."
He said, "There be a small Island in Tirisifal. I mean te have some words with ye there."
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Re: The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
by Lupen
Breathing slowed, blood curdled like stale milk beside a slaughtered cow, and yet he could only smile at this. The corner was warm, warmer than every other stone in the Undercity, a warmth... Like a mother's breast, like a fire on a winter eve, like wet flesh dripping onto his hands. He continued his mad smile, as if the horrid smells were tolerable, as if the sights and sounds of war no longer mattered, as if "rape" and "torture" were common words, and even more common actions.
Love and hate. He told Lovely that one day, "Love and Hate is all I know. I love The Grim, I hate the Alliance, I love blood, I hate whores, I love chaos, I hate peace. I love you, I hate you." It was that meaning in duality which Lupen felt as his boots struck the stone of the Apothecarium. His eyes moved blankly from the Elf and the Forsaken standing over her. His voice crawled to Skumm's ears, like a poison bite of a spider, like a cold kiss of death.
"She is breathing."
Breathing slowed, blood curdled like stale milk beside a slaughtered cow, and yet he could only smile at this. The corner was warm, warmer than every other stone in the Undercity, a warmth... Like a mother's breast, like a fire on a winter eve, like wet flesh dripping onto his hands. He continued his mad smile, as if the horrid smells were tolerable, as if the sights and sounds of war no longer mattered, as if "rape" and "torture" were common words, and even more common actions.
Love and hate. He told Lovely that one day, "Love and Hate is all I know. I love The Grim, I hate the Alliance, I love blood, I hate whores, I love chaos, I hate peace. I love you, I hate you." It was that meaning in duality which Lupen felt as his boots struck the stone of the Apothecarium. His eyes moved blankly from the Elf and the Forsaken standing over her. His voice crawled to Skumm's ears, like a poison bite of a spider, like a cold kiss of death.
"She is breathing."
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Re: The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
by Skumm
Skumm lowered the stone from his lips and cast his gaze toward the warlock. Blinded by fury and sorrow, he shouted angrily at his superior, "Then ye'll remove that smirk from yer face and help her."
He stalked out of the Apothecarium, butting his shoulder against Lupen's on the way. The priest must be killed, and Skumm was the hand of wrath.
Skumm lowered the stone from his lips and cast his gaze toward the warlock. Blinded by fury and sorrow, he shouted angrily at his superior, "Then ye'll remove that smirk from yer face and help her."
He stalked out of the Apothecarium, butting his shoulder against Lupen's on the way. The priest must be killed, and Skumm was the hand of wrath.
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Re: The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
by Lupen
The Warlock glanced over his shoulder as the rogue exited. He continued to smirk, even in the face of death. "How rude..." He began to mutter to himself, "Perhaps I should just let her die..." Lupen chuckled a bit and approached the body. Upon further inspection, he began to note the necrosis encompassing her limbs. He extended his right hand to the junior apothecaries who slowly, but carefully, would hand off their tools. The knives came first. All shapes and sizes, some stained, some clean. The infected and dying areas would be documented and replaced, if time allowed. Lupen casually laid the knives on a tray beside Drinn's scalp.
His smirk fell into a scowl, he turned to the other apothecaries, "She is not stable, get an engineer, we'll need three Healing Potion Injectors." He nodded as each one of the three left the quarter. The warlock continued to frown, he placed two fingers on Drinn's pulse, slowly counting.
The Warlock glanced over his shoulder as the rogue exited. He continued to smirk, even in the face of death. "How rude..." He began to mutter to himself, "Perhaps I should just let her die..." Lupen chuckled a bit and approached the body. Upon further inspection, he began to note the necrosis encompassing her limbs. He extended his right hand to the junior apothecaries who slowly, but carefully, would hand off their tools. The knives came first. All shapes and sizes, some stained, some clean. The infected and dying areas would be documented and replaced, if time allowed. Lupen casually laid the knives on a tray beside Drinn's scalp.
His smirk fell into a scowl, he turned to the other apothecaries, "She is not stable, get an engineer, we'll need three Healing Potion Injectors." He nodded as each one of the three left the quarter. The warlock continued to frown, he placed two fingers on Drinn's pulse, slowly counting.
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Re: The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
by Deathshadowz
"Priest... There be a small Island in Tirisifal. I mean te have some words with ye there."
Shadow smiled wryly. A death call! It was amusing that the rogue wished to quicken his death. He brought the stone to his mouth.
"You have time, rogue. Don't be foolish..." Shadow said, almost mockingly. "However.. It would save me a trip... Very well, I will be there.." With that, he rode off on Mercy, cackling along the way.
"Priest... There be a small Island in Tirisifal. I mean te have some words with ye there."
Shadow smiled wryly. A death call! It was amusing that the rogue wished to quicken his death. He brought the stone to his mouth.
"You have time, rogue. Don't be foolish..." Shadow said, almost mockingly. "However.. It would save me a trip... Very well, I will be there.." With that, he rode off on Mercy, cackling along the way.
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Re: The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
by Skumm
Skumm emerged from the murky water to stand on the small island. Deathshadow was already there. The priest stood with his back to Skumm, calmly obliterating the hungering dead who roamed along the shore.
The undead rogue was dimly aware that he was at a supreme disadvantage. The priest was much more seasoned than he, but those reservations were buried by the pure, concentrated rage that filled him.
Usually Skumm took pride in his patience - his efficiency. How he could hold his hand back, calculating, watching for the most opportune moment to unleash a flurry of attacks. Tonight, however, that wisdom had been over-ruled by his bloodlust. He needed revenge.
And so it was that he made a mistake he had learn better of long ago. He came to the island relying on luck to see him through the night.
Deathshadow straightened as the rogue approached. Skumm spoke:
"Ye be a traitor to the Grim, priest."
Skumm emerged from the murky water to stand on the small island. Deathshadow was already there. The priest stood with his back to Skumm, calmly obliterating the hungering dead who roamed along the shore.
The undead rogue was dimly aware that he was at a supreme disadvantage. The priest was much more seasoned than he, but those reservations were buried by the pure, concentrated rage that filled him.
Usually Skumm took pride in his patience - his efficiency. How he could hold his hand back, calculating, watching for the most opportune moment to unleash a flurry of attacks. Tonight, however, that wisdom had been over-ruled by his bloodlust. He needed revenge.
And so it was that he made a mistake he had learn better of long ago. He came to the island relying on luck to see him through the night.
Deathshadow straightened as the rogue approached. Skumm spoke:
"Ye be a traitor to the Grim, priest."
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Re: The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
by Lupen
Not a half-minute later, the runnersreturned, with a handful of wires, bolts, and Potion Injectors. While they laidthe items out on the nearby counter, Lupen began to snarl, "Too slow,Apothecary, she is dying." The Warlock's eyes scanned up and down herbodice, first to her left leg, which was wrought with pus and blisters from theShadow's effect, then to her right hand; the skin was collapsing in uponitself. He turned to Apothecary Zinge, who stood nearby, unmoving. "Thereis a quill and inkwell in Faranell's desk, begin to mark lines on her rightarm, and left thigh." He looked then to Apothecary Katrina, who stood idlyin the corner, a bit dumbfounded. "Move it, Katrina, use the Potions,begin Intravenous on her left wrist." Lupen snapped and continued tofrown. Zinge saluted the Warlock and nodded, "Markings completed sir, whatel--" Lupen interrupted her and stated, rather flatly, "Tourniquetson her right arm and left thigh, begin with the thigh." Zinge nodded oncemore, grabbing the tubing and fumbling toward Drinn's legs.
It was almost that time, the best of them all, almost akin to the rush oftaking a soul... The amputation. Lupen, a sadist by nature, forced now to savea life. His eyes scanned the various blades lain upon the table. Everythingfrom the smallest razors to jagged and twisted daggers, each unique. Flesh,muscle, bone, muscle, flesh... All in one swift motion, only the sharpest, onlythe heaviest. The claw-like appendage that he so callously labeled as a"hand" chose. It was far more of a butcher's cleaver than anoperating instrument. Zinge glanced at Lupen, worry was apparent, she was soyoung, so unsure. Lupen returned the look, his brow furrowed, sweat present.
Bringing the cleaver into the air was a feat by itself, Lupen fumbled and heldthe hilt awkwardly, never handling axes prior. He rested his left hand on thethigh and concentrated.
Swiii...
THUNK.
It was a horridly blunt sound, but it worked. The blade went clean through theleg, striking the operating table. "Katrina, move the leg. Have Keeverbring the excess appendages." The Warlock walked over to Drinn's rightside, preparing the arm now. Necrosis began to move past the elbow, lurchingtoward the shoulder. The same noise filled the laboratory:
Swiii...
THUNK.
The arm held on, tendons still connected. Lupen quickly reached over to thetools, grabbing a smaller razor now, deftly removing the remaining bits ofmeat. Keever entered the room, he dragged a brown sack out one of the adjacentrooms. It left a slight blood trail across the stone. "Warlock requestthese?" He asked, the same dumb look upon his face. Lupen nodded a bit,opening the satchel. Each deft finger picking through the fetid remains ofvarious slaughtered creatures… Human, Dwarf, Night Elven, Highborne, Gnome, andeventually, Draenei. The Highborne ones would perhaps fit the best, though theElven ones would be most ideal for a rogue. Slender, quick, deadly. An arm, aleg, perhaps from the same subject. Proportional to Drinn’s limp body.
Minutes of careful sewing passed, it was somuch like tailoring… Cloth to flesh. Oh, what perfection has he created now? “Increasethe drip rate, direct injection now.” He grinned. “Katrina, remove thetourniquets, let her breathe once more.”
Not a half-minute later, the runnersreturned, with a handful of wires, bolts, and Potion Injectors. While they laidthe items out on the nearby counter, Lupen began to snarl, "Too slow,Apothecary, she is dying." The Warlock's eyes scanned up and down herbodice, first to her left leg, which was wrought with pus and blisters from theShadow's effect, then to her right hand; the skin was collapsing in uponitself. He turned to Apothecary Zinge, who stood nearby, unmoving. "Thereis a quill and inkwell in Faranell's desk, begin to mark lines on her rightarm, and left thigh." He looked then to Apothecary Katrina, who stood idlyin the corner, a bit dumbfounded. "Move it, Katrina, use the Potions,begin Intravenous on her left wrist." Lupen snapped and continued tofrown. Zinge saluted the Warlock and nodded, "Markings completed sir, whatel--" Lupen interrupted her and stated, rather flatly, "Tourniquetson her right arm and left thigh, begin with the thigh." Zinge nodded oncemore, grabbing the tubing and fumbling toward Drinn's legs.
It was almost that time, the best of them all, almost akin to the rush oftaking a soul... The amputation. Lupen, a sadist by nature, forced now to savea life. His eyes scanned the various blades lain upon the table. Everythingfrom the smallest razors to jagged and twisted daggers, each unique. Flesh,muscle, bone, muscle, flesh... All in one swift motion, only the sharpest, onlythe heaviest. The claw-like appendage that he so callously labeled as a"hand" chose. It was far more of a butcher's cleaver than anoperating instrument. Zinge glanced at Lupen, worry was apparent, she was soyoung, so unsure. Lupen returned the look, his brow furrowed, sweat present.
Bringing the cleaver into the air was a feat by itself, Lupen fumbled and heldthe hilt awkwardly, never handling axes prior. He rested his left hand on thethigh and concentrated.
Swiii...
THUNK.
It was a horridly blunt sound, but it worked. The blade went clean through theleg, striking the operating table. "Katrina, move the leg. Have Keeverbring the excess appendages." The Warlock walked over to Drinn's rightside, preparing the arm now. Necrosis began to move past the elbow, lurchingtoward the shoulder. The same noise filled the laboratory:
Swiii...
THUNK.
The arm held on, tendons still connected. Lupen quickly reached over to thetools, grabbing a smaller razor now, deftly removing the remaining bits ofmeat. Keever entered the room, he dragged a brown sack out one of the adjacentrooms. It left a slight blood trail across the stone. "Warlock requestthese?" He asked, the same dumb look upon his face. Lupen nodded a bit,opening the satchel. Each deft finger picking through the fetid remains ofvarious slaughtered creatures… Human, Dwarf, Night Elven, Highborne, Gnome, andeventually, Draenei. The Highborne ones would perhaps fit the best, though theElven ones would be most ideal for a rogue. Slender, quick, deadly. An arm, aleg, perhaps from the same subject. Proportional to Drinn’s limp body.
Minutes of careful sewing passed, it was somuch like tailoring… Cloth to flesh. Oh, what perfection has he created now? “Increasethe drip rate, direct injection now.” He grinned. “Katrina, remove thetourniquets, let her breathe once more.”
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Re: The Promise Kept by Deathshadowz
by Deathshadowz
The rogue had suprised Shadow. The difference in their power was immense, yet he chose suicide over strategy. Shadow smiled wickedly.
"You have arrived then... I sense no other presence. Do you plan to waste your life at the thin chance of gaining satisfaction? Drinn is dead.. do you think your hastiness will bring her back or are you just caught up in the moment?"
Skumm straightened, his gaze firmly directed at the corrupted priest. He freed his daggers, ready to fight. Shadow's words meant nothing to him. The rogue continued his hesitant walk towards Shadow.
"Sleep now..."
And at that moment, a black cloud covered Skumm's head, and all he knew was forgotten.
The rogue had suprised Shadow. The difference in their power was immense, yet he chose suicide over strategy. Shadow smiled wickedly.
"You have arrived then... I sense no other presence. Do you plan to waste your life at the thin chance of gaining satisfaction? Drinn is dead.. do you think your hastiness will bring her back or are you just caught up in the moment?"
Skumm straightened, his gaze firmly directed at the corrupted priest. He freed his daggers, ready to fight. Shadow's words meant nothing to him. The rogue continued his hesitant walk towards Shadow.
"Sleep now..."
And at that moment, a black cloud covered Skumm's head, and all he knew was forgotten.