Rana Mistry 《☆》Lucivar Yaslana (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} doesntgloat) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} thereincarnates,@ 2016-10-15 21:21:00 |
 |
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
What: A number of towns and villages are being terrorised by a monster, but to what end?
Where: The town square of Bramia
When: Late Sunday afternoon
Warnings: Probable mention of non-consensual relations
There are many layers to a kingdom, from your obvious royalty and their associated court, down to the many peasants who do everything to keep the place running. One layer that people are often keen to forget are the outcasts. Be they of questionable magical status or cursed themselves or sometimes just a hideous monster that no one knows where it came from.
The Mistry fell into that category. Among his friends he was just known as Mistry, or he would be if he had friends. He lived alone in a location that only he knew of, not particularly because he was antisocial but because he had experienced both angry mobs and the occasional daring hero when people had known where he lived. And who would blame them? They were merely protecting their townsfolk from this monster that often stole away their girls (and sometimes boys) during festivities or even simply when he felt like it.
The Mistry was the bane of a great many towns.
It had become such a problem that some places had begun to sacrifice maidens to him in the hopes of sparing the remaining villagers. They hoped somehow that by giving one they would avoid the stories of terror left by witnesses. Often given in their dying breaths. For whatever reason the fearsome monster didn't seem to take kindly to onlookers.
Today was a day of sacrifice.
On large dragon-like wings, the scourge sailed over the town square like he was going to miss the town entirely. At the last second he pulled a tight corner and turned back descending with menace. The square was empty save for the wooden frame to which a whimpering girl was attached. There was hurried motion at windows as people tried to hide the fact that they were staring. Watching. Waiting. His reptilian skin glistened in the afternoon sun as he stood at the opposite end to the frame his hideous countenance focused upon the maid. Eventually he flexed his clawed hands and let out what was best described as a snarl. The dragon approached it's prize.