Glenn (hedgehogged) wrote in the_rift_rpg, @ 2008-10-31 20:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | bellatrix black, open/incomplete, thaddeus thurkell, theodore lupin |
Sacrificial Lambs
Who: Thaddeus Thurkell, Teddy Lupin, Bellatrix Black, any other night owls
Why: To reveal that some people had been busy lately
Where: A narrow back alley in a non-residential area
When: In the middle of the night before All Hallows Eve
Rating: R for gruesome and gory scenes
Status: Open/Incomplete
The Nexus was a strange land for many strangers, and the proud gait of yet another soberly dressed man prowling the neighbourhood was little to be excited about, even if the new arrival's home left a bit to be desired.
Thaddeus Thurkell had drunken in the lack of hatred or fear at his passage, and wrapped himself further in anonymity, while he systematically made inventory of his situation.
He had arrived for a week now with none the wiser, and his test on the linked journals proved that his name truly drew little attention in this time and place. Had anybody tried to uncover the hidden entry, they chose to remain hidden at this stage. Lack of currency was of course, a major obstacle for large scale organization. Trade was primitive though knowledge abound, and there were surprisingly little attempt at petty crimes. Of course, he had little time to explore the underbellies of the city, but he would not be surprised that the apparent peace was merely a masquerade.
On guard despite the deserted state of the streets, ex-general Thurkell walked with wand drawn and a hand on sword pommel, eyes and ears open in high alert.
Perimeter clear, all exits memorized, and cover places available. Good.
Now if only he could brush up on the innovations over the years and assess the difference between the rules in this place and Earth's. But no, visits to the library had secondary priority for the moment.
Suddenly, Thaddeus stiffened and chased all thoughts of the future from his mind. Fine nostrils flared and pale eyes narrowed a fraction. He would recognize the scent even in sleep or on his death bed, the sweet, tangy after taste of spilt blood and rotten flesh.
Cursing the fates that separated him from his fierce mount, Thaddeus tract the trail himself and stalked toward the suspicious alleyway, weapons and shield ready. True to prediction, he came upon two mangled corpses piled among trash, and his arrival sent a horde of crows and rats scattering. Flies were more reluctant to leave their feast.
Thaddeus cast a number of spells at the remains, and finally convinced that they were no traps, approached the bodies. A quick lumos later, the grim scene finally appeared in its full horror, the contorted face of the victims turned toward the moonless sky, silent accusation of the violence that occurred.