Fate - First Reply Why the long night

[Gannis]

Gannis was the longest shadow at the tavern. Other shadows danced and swayed as the fire crackled, but he remained still.

Dog looked up hopefully as patrons past. He thought he might steal a bit of fuss - or perhaps one of those bones - but they always looked at his owner and moved on quickly.

Gannis wasnt find of the vice that had swept this part of the world recently, the slightly fragrant pipe smoke from the North. He wasn't fond of much at all and that included strangers.

What he liked was coin. A nest of ghouls had been disturbed a few miles away from the village and he was hoping to take a contract in the morning to deal with the matter. Dealing with ghouls in the daylight when well prepared was as close to easy money as he got.

Dog lifted his ears. A scream. It could have been anything. Another cry, loud enough to be heard by the others above the hubbub. Then another.

"Fuck," muttered Gannis. Hunting ghouls in the day for coin was one thing. Fighting the flesh eaters in the dark of night for his life was another.


OOC/ Haloshooter you've swept up the other fate threads recently, let someone else go

 

[Crux]

Just follow the screams...

He'd been tracking the damned things for what felt like hours, waiting for the perfect moment to bathe his blades with their wretched blood. Perhaps he should have tried to simply massacre the lot of them while they were still nested together, but after putting a couple of them in the ground he'd decided to let the rest fan out. Crux told himself it was because it would be less dangerous if they were scattered...

Really, he just wanted a challenge.

The cold night air was chilling the bare skin of his arms, his hands resting on the hilts of the swords on each hip. Ghouls, they were disgusting. Mindless horrors deserving of neither life nor undeath. The only thing a ghoul was meant to do was to be ground beneath his boot into nothing but dust. For his part, Crux wasn't about to sleep until they were all dealt with.

The lot of the ghouls seemed to be descending upon a small village that rested just up north of the nest. The noise and light coming from the buildings probably attracted them in the dark of night. It wasn't long before screams began to ring out. Crux swore under his breath and quickened his pace, bringing a hand back to pull the long, segmented metal whip from his back.

Just follow the screams...

He was nearly salivating at the prospect of watching these useless creatures wither away in his grasp, turning to nothing under his overwhelming power.

 

[Gannis]

"Dog, stay."

He had a level of resistance to the diseases typically carried by common ghouls. As much as he would have liked to have Dog at his side a single bite could leave a festering wound. A fatal wound. He would not put his hound in such danger unless necessary.

Dog gave Gannis a look that suggested that Gannis would be bitten if he gave such curt instructions again. It was probably true. The hounds had been bred by the Venari for both their size and their intelligence. Dog had been his companion since he had been a child.

People running in through the doors and off the street made it difficult for Gannis to push through. He was the runt of his pack of venari, more of a tracker than a brute.

He drew his sword as soon as he was into the cold, damp night air. It was more like an oversized butcher's knife than a work of art. A blade for business.

His eyes adjusted to the night. There wasn't much moonlight which meant there was less of a call into violence, less of a desire to shift.

It wasn't the scene of bedlam he might have expected. Two ghouls hunched over a corpse up the road, more movement in the darkness beyond them. Another scratching at a locked wooden door. He ignored those three. If they were busy then they weren't going after those that still drew breath.

"Hey!" he called to one that was bounding down the street. It ran straight for him.

 

[Crux]

His pace along the dirt path leading into the small village amongst the hills quickened as the volume increased. Not of screams, but of the pressure that surrounded him; Anybody who knew a thing about Ghouls could feel their presence in the air. From within, figures came fleeing from the settlement, screams of horror and eyes full of panic. Men and women running from what they feared was an untimely fate

Crux wasn't so sure what they were afraid of. They were breathing, and as long as they kept out of his way that wouldn't change tonight. Several of them collided with Crux as he approached the epicenter of their fear, but he broke not his stride. They could run if they wanted. All that Crux felt in the veil of darkness that seemed to suddenly fall over the village was an opportunity for punishment.

A twisted, almost demented smile threatened to split his face, only growing wider across his cheeks as he laid eyes upon them at last. Horrifying visages like something out of a nightmare. Men, women, and children fleeing for the safety of their homes, screams of terror echoing off every surface. One of the ghouls spotted him, its jaw falling in a hungry wail as it began to shamble its way towards what it didn't know would be its own demise.

Hand dropping to the hilt of one of his blades, Crux prepared to charge in for an up-close and personal slaying. Just then, a voice from off to the side beckoned his mark, and the ghoul whipped his head around, screeching as it broke into a run towards whatever distraction had interrupted his fun.


Crux broke into a run, carried by some inhuman need to see these unholy husks withered at the heel of his boot. How dare this rotten hunk of garbage turn its back on him? It would pay in blood for such disrespect! His hands drop to the whip tied around his waist, quickly loosening it and gripping the handle to pull it free. It was far from the typical leather whip used by more common folk; such tools were of no use in killing the corrupted. The whip consisted of a thin metal cable, cut into segments and placed over the leather core of the weapon. Small blades were fitted onto the metal pieces offering sharp cutting edges.

It was this weapon of death that Crux whipped at the Ghoul bounding towards what looked to be a man and a dog, the cable meeting the beast's neck with enough force to wrap around it and stop the ghoul in its tracks, its hands desperately clawing at its neck in an attempt to free itself as Crux pulls back, the blades of his whip doing their job and ripping the head from the ghoul completely.

That man and his mutt had better stay out of his way. This was his playground, and as the bloodied whip fell to the ground with a clatter of steel against the rocks on the road, Crux felt that rush of satisfaction that came with watching the ghoul's body fall over lifelessly.

Gannis

 

[Gannis]

"Hmnph."

Gannis looked down at the decapitated ghoul. He did not know if the newcomer was trying to protect him or ensure he cleared out as many of the ghouls as he wanted. He sniffed the air.

What are you then?

They were downwind, not giving him much of a clue. The weapon wasn't a signature tool of any organisation he knew either.

"I'm not getting paid for this," Gannis announced gruffly, turning towards the sound of more of the creatures. It was a fact the irked him. He had planned to draw up a contact in the morning making each kill worth a few silvers. There was no contract, no signature, possibly not even drinking money.

He kept his sword raised. Gannis wasn't a skilled swordsman. Others from his order were masters of the blade. His heavy, single-edged sword was for brutal murder.

More ghouls, attracted to the lights inside the inn behind him, filtered through the loose arrangement of buildings towards them.

The other option was that the newcomer was out to kill him. It was fair to say that he had crossed enough people on his time.

 

[Crux]

The rush of adrenaline that pumped through Crux's veins as he'd left naught but a stump where the ghoul's head had once been was the very thing that gave him life. Pulling back on the metallic whip-like weapon, dragging it against the ground as he raised his eyes to meet those of the scarred man the ghoul had been after.

"Not a bad question. When I know, I'll get back to you."

If Crux had known the answer, he wouldn't be here doing this. There wasn't any time for the two of them to be talking, though; more of the damned ghouls had noticed them, lumbering like drunkards with a thirst for flesh. They weren't really all that intimidating until they broke into a surprisingly brisk sprint. At the mention of pay, Crux shot his new acquaintance a smile.

"You neither? How about a wager then? Whoever has the most heads at the end of this wins, and the other gives up whatever they've got on them."

Crux only briefly paid glance to the oddly shaped sword the man brandished, noting the design was of a more barbaric nature than was commonplace. The Blightland-Born mutant could admire such a choice, and he readied his whip as he spun his body to face another group of ghouls.

"Remember to keep count, friend."

Gannis

 

[Gannis]

Not an agent of someone he had pissed off. That was good. Would have been a hell of a place to be ambushed, fighting for his life whilst the commotion drew all the remaining ghouls.

It would have made more sense to work together, as a pack, to fight through the ghouls. They were most dangerous in numbers when they could overwhelm a lone fighter.

Gannis' hand went to his coin purse. He wasn't prone to gambling, but he wasn't flush with wealth right now either.

"Fine," said Gannis. In the same breath he pulled a knife from his belt and flung it end over end. It stuck fast in the shoulder of a ghoul bounding towards them. The creature stumbled and collapsed and Gannis was quick to bring his heavy blade down to crack its skull.

"We should start at one each."

 

[Crux]

Crux really wasn't the type to entertain the idea of a partner in any capacity, but if there was a bit of coin involved, the bloodthirsty purveyor of violence wasn't against a little friendly competition. Besides, he found himself mildly interested in what this stranger was capable of. He had that look in his eye, that spark of danger that always drew Crux in.

The moment that his new acquaintance accepted his offer, he loosed a knife from his hand at a blistering speed, burying itself in an approaching ghoul and sending it tumbling to the ground as the scarred fellow cleaved his head. Crux whistled lowly at the display, a smug smirk crossing his lips for a half-second as he drew his blade from his hip with the hand that didn't hold his barbed whip and turned towards a group of ghouls squeezing out from the dark shadows that the buildings cast against the dim light.

"If you're sure you don't want a handicap, then I'll go ahead and get to work."

Nimbly he stepped towards his attackers, licking his lips in anticipation of the impending bloodshed. Before he met head-on with the ghouls he brought that razor-like whip forward with a thunderous crack, slicing cleanly through one of the heads that gnashed its teeth at him, causing the headless ghoul to stumble forwards and fall at his feet.

Crux's other hand would bring his sword up to meet another of them, rushing at him with incredible speed before being impaled through the cut on the curve of his blade. He would leave the sword stuck there, reaching up and grasping the stunned horror by the head and ripping it from its shoulders entirely.

Gannis

 

[Gannis]

The man had a dreadful thirst for blood. It was a line that he and his Venari walked. He could work with it, but he would be cautious of it.

The venari worked with their hounds as hunting partners, but it was also know that if they turned from the path then their own dogs would be the first to try and bring them down.

It would only take a string of incidents and the people would rise up against his kind wherever they tried to find work.

Gannis stalked forwards more carefully. He wasn't as much of a brutal killer as his peers. He was an expert tracker and planner. There was no tracking to be done here, no plan beyond fighting for his life.

Gannis over-swung on the first ghoul. His heavy blade cracked a skull, but it stuck fast. He twisted his body from the core and shook the entire creature, but it didn't come loose.

Letting go of the hilt, he draw a hatchet from his belt. Gannis dropped his weight as another ghoul charged in. Slamming his forearm into the creature's neck, it kept the snapping jaws at bay as he struck rapidly with the hand axe.

 

[Crux]

If Crux knew that his new acquaintance took caution from his wild and bloodthirsty behavior, he wouldn't fault him for it. It was true; Crux was a man of violence, always eager for the next opportunity to slay the evil that he'd declared his foe. It was not from madness or malice that he killed though, Crux killed because it was all that he had ever known, all that he had ever been good at. Could you fault one for playing to his own strengths?

Still the words and visions of that demon ripped through his head from the past, memories of whispers and screams alike haunting him at every hour, giving him the drive to somehow silence them, to prove their vile predictions untrue and unattainable. No evil would take him. He would make the evil beg at his feet. If he'd thought this man to be a part of that evil, no words would have been spoken between them.

No, Crux focused on the ghouls. as weak and as fallible as they were, mindlessness came with tenacity, and Crux was finding no short supply of foes to battle as they began to swarm him in response to the violent slayings of the first two. His whip was powerful, but it took time to bring it back for a second attack, time he didn't have with so many targets at once.

He had to rely on the curved sword he had buried in the second ghoul, withdrawing it and swinging at the swiping limbs of three more who approached him from the front, all the while feeling claws against the armor on his back. He'd underestimated the foul beings. That filled him with excitement, even as he fell to the ground, the ghouls piling on top of him.

Gannis

 

[Gannis]

Blood was splattered in all directions by the rapid strikes of the light hatchet. He hammered away at the creature's neck until its jaws stopped snapping and he could drop it to the ground.

As he retrieved his sword, a scream cut through the air. Gannis turned to his right to see a pair of ghouls clawing open the wooden shutters of a small house. To his left the other killer was being dragged down by the weight of ghouls he had engaged.

"Shit. Dog!" he cried out.

There was a commotion as Dog made it clear to the patrons locked inside the inn that he needed to be let out. The door was opened and the hound came bounding out.

"That house!" he cried. Dog could deal with two ghouls without much chance of the infection Gannis feared.

Tueninf to the left, Gannis broke into a sprint. He tossed the hatchet. It stuck fast in the spine of the nearest ghoul, with fell across and immobilised another.

Determined to begin the feast, the ghouls did not turn to meet him. Gannis skidded to a halt, transferring momentum into his sword with a twist of the hips. Skin was flayed, muscle torn and bones broken as it struck the exposed backs of two ghouls.

Now they came for him but he was already back pedalling. He needed space to fight and the other man needed air to breathe and to get back to his feet.

 

[Crux]

To any who'd seen the horrifying visage of Crux crumbling under the weight of at least six of the shambling horrors, they would flag him a goner, a bloodthirsty warrior who'd grown so overconfident in his own ability that he'd been brought down by a herd of ghouls. It was true; Crux had the tendency to lose himself in his battles, to allow his prowess to go to his head.

This would not be the end of him. Not so long as any of these ghouls had an ounce of energy within them. As they clawed and bit at his flesh, eager to make a meal out of the killer, his skin would begin to go black beneath their touch.

It was not power within him that was emerging, but what power remained within the unholy abominations being drawn in by Crux, every bit of life that had remained in the decaying husks was being sucked into him, and now the rate of their decay grew quickly.

Fingers would begin to fall from their hands, then entire arms as the ghouls' strength would wane. Their bodies wither away on top of their foe until all that remained were small bags of useless flesh resting atop Crux.

The being that raised from the carnage did not resemble the man who'd been brought to his knees, however. The black, ashen skin he now wore was lined with glowing orange trails that seemed to follow every vein in his body. Still, that grin on his face remained even as he turned to watch the large contingency of ghouls prusuing his competition. When was the last time he'd faced so many at once? He could hardly remember, but he owed this stranger for leading him to such a good show. They would have to talk when this was all over.

Of course, there would be no conversation if he was ghoul-feed. Raising a hand in the air, Crux channels the energy he'd collected into a bright wave aimed towards the ghouls, flinging them back with enough force to cause them to splatter against the walls of the house they emerged from in a macabre mess.

His appearance returned to normal, what little he'd been able to get out of those ghouls spent. It would be enough, as now he had time to prepare his whip and retrieve his sword. Such a mistake would not be made twice, especially as the hordes of ghouls were beginning to dwindle.

Gannis