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 [RP] Murder & Regret - by Arklem < The Bier of Sorrows >

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Number of posts : 2810
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Location : Warrington, UK
Registration date : 2008-03-10

PostSubject: [RP] Murder & Regret - by Arklem < The Bier of Sorrows >   Fri May 21, 2010 3:25 pm

(( copied from: http://forums.wow-europe.com/thread.html?topicId=13525664662&sid=1 - Vyp))

The tauren strode across the deck purposefully. His every step sounded out loudly, as his great bulk was made greater by the armour he wore. He paid no heed to the sniveling creatures that manned the vessel and scurried across the deck to distance themselves from him. They were insignificant gnats, he thought contemptuously, that were consumed by petty vice. Such creatures were too far gone to merit his consideration. He was here among them only by chance and the dictates of necessity.

He halted before the door of the ship's cabin. It was a small, fragile thing, built for creatures of lesser stature and lesser worth. It vexed him, knowing that this was yet another of a thousand insults too many.

He snorted bitterly as he collected his thoughts. A look towards the horizon confirmed that An'she had set, and a look towards the heavens told him that Mu'sha had not risen.

Fitting that She closes her eyes on me... He wondered, not for the first time, how his path had led him here. But his doubts... no, doubts were for the meek and the unworthy, and he was not among them!

Bellowing his outrage, he lashed out with a great black hoof and smashed the wretched little door from its wretched little frame before forcing through the tiny, insulting, humiliating portal.

"Barekwha... as always, your arrival is wonderfully dramatic. I suppose it would be too much to hope that you've gotten the theatrics out of your system?"

The speaker was a goblin, lounging on a chair that would barely have served Barekwha as a footstool. The creature's appearance bespoke vanity in volumes. It was garbed in a purple robe with bright golden embroidery, and each of its fat, stubby fingers played host to at least one ring set with some gem or another stolen from the flesh of the Earthmother.

The room reflected its owner. Almost every inch of the walls was covered with some gaudy, pretentious bauble that suggested that the occupant of this place was one with a great many military, economic and scholarly achievements to his name. It was, of course, the mark of a stunted being, and one which plagued the entire goblin race like an infection. Such creatures throw themselves at material status symbols, deserved or otherwise, like frenzied rodents fleeing a flood.

"I would offer you a seat... but I have none that will do. You understand, of course." The goblin was biting back a grin, Barekwha thought.

"Enough prattle Jozrik. Why did you call me here?"

Jozrik held up his palm and made a supplicating gesture. "Just a moment of patience, please, Barek. We are waiting on someone."

Before the tauren could reply, he felt someone slip lithely past him. A flash of anxiety came over him as he realized who it was, but his face did not show his concern.

"You are acquainted with Mr. Gethras, yes?" Jozrik spoke flatly, not so much asking a question as flaunting a sense of superiority. The newcomer was a forsaken, garbed in a drab grey robe and a wide-brimmed hat of the same colour. Seemingly nervously, he sat himself on a chair to side of the doorway and nodded an unspoken greeting to Barekwha.

Barekwha inhaled deeply, and it was clear that he was impatient and uncomfortable.

"You ask why I called you, dear Barek. You know why. Your boys screwed the job." Jozrik said in a matter-of-fact tone, pouring himself a glass of wine on the adjacent table.

Barekwha snorted. "The result is the same. The orc lies in recovery and lacks the strength to get up and piss under his own power. My warriors played their part."

The goblin's face twisted into a hideous scowl.

"Their part was to kill the General. Their part was to do it when he was unawares and out of sight of his shaman. Their part was certainly not to make a public spectacle, blathering on about trees and deer turds, and then get hacked into chunks by a room full of orcs! They did not play their part, thank you very much!"

Jozrik's outburst caused him to spill his wine. He calmed himself and poured more.

Barekwha clenched his fists, holding back his murderous anger at the callous dismissal of the lives of his followers. "That he yet lives can be corrected. He is but one target. The other six are dead, and subtly so, as you asked."

The forsaken chuckled softly as Jozrik barked in answer.

"The other six? Try four, you oaf. Vraarg was cured of your awkward poisoning three days ago, and Sarog practically cut your Grimtotem ambushers into parade ribbons." The goblin idly slipped one of the rings from his fingers, and rubbed it to clean a spot of grease. "The other four were all minor officers, and the advantage we gain from their entry into your Earthmother as fertilizer is minuscule. I must admit, dear Barek, that I am starting to wonder if it is time to reassess our sponsorship of you. Your failures make you a liability. You stand much to gain, but contribute little."

The tauren's anger, now given free reign, seemed to make him even larger and his armoured presence dominated the small cabin.

"Contribute little?" Barekwha bellowed in outrage. "I contribute everything, you godless tick! My followers are the ones risking death on your request! I have laboured for months and shielded you from every danger, while you count coins and draw maps and make clumsy and transparent efforts at playing puppet master! By the Earthmother, I should have torn you in half when you first approached me!" Barekwha raised his great armored hand in anger, about to strike the insipid pest that had been a louse on his balls for far too long.

And then he stumbled.

His vision swam, and when his eyes gained focus he saw he was on his knees. He tried to rise, and found that his limbs would not obey him.

"What... what have you done to me?" Barekwha's voice had lost his strength and confidence. "Poison...?"

Jozrik smiled, and reached down from his seat to pat Barekwha on the cheek.

"No, dear friend. To poison such a strong and healthy one as you would be ill-considered." He grinned a wicked grin and looked at the forsaken sitting in the corner.

"But a certain spell component" he continued, his voice dripping with smugness "is a harmless thing. Slipped into a broth or soup, it is no more than an exotic flavourant. It causes no distress, the body does not fight it, and as it becomes a regular part of your diet, it lies in wait for the proper trigger. An elegant contingency against such unfortunate unpleasantness."

Barekwha fell, his face hitting the floor of the cabin. As his perspective changed, he saw that the undead spell caster in the corner had its hand pointed towards him, a sickly glow emanating from it.

Jozrik hopped down from his chair, knelt down, and put his face directly in front of Barekwha's.

"I want you to understand two things before you die, you ridiculous oaf. One is that the we stopped needing you in order to control your followers months ago. The other is that your doom, this enfeeblement that is the last state you will ever know, comes at the hands of your own family."[b] Jozrik's green lips peeled back as he grinned an ugly, sharp toothed grin of sadistic triumph. [b]"Perhaps my efforts at playing puppet master are not as clumsy as you believed."

The goblin stood up, brushing off the dust of the floor from his robe, and moved to the doorway.

"Mr. Bigby!" he yelled to the deck, "can we get some help in here? It seems our poor visitor is about to stumble and fall overboard. A true pity that he insisted on wearing that armour everywhere. Most unfortunate."

Barekwha closed his eyes, and silently plead to his ancestors to overlook his failures, and to the Earthmother that she might receive him fondly. His limbs were so numb that he did not feel the gnolls hauling him overboard.

[ Post edited by Arklem ]

"We are the ones that want to choose; always want to play but you never want to lose."
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PostSubject: Re: [RP] Murder & Regret - by Arklem < The Bier of Sorrows >   Sun May 23, 2010 9:59 am

I would have commented some time ago on the realm forums, so I take the chance here, just lovely written it was a joy to read Wink

pirat pirat pirat pirat pirat Five out of five!

Son of a Biscuit Eater!
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[RP] Murder & Regret - by Arklem < The Bier of Sorrows >
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