Just Another Story

[KoolestLoser]

Heavy boots squelched in the mud as Argo came to a halt at the top of a hill, the forest to either side of the road crowded as it were, gave way to a clearing. Scattered headstones marked the graveyard for what it was. Taking a moment to stamp his feet and adjust the cowl covering his head from the light drizzle; the watcher exhaled a warm breath of steam that was quickly swallowed by the chilled air. He pulled his cloak tighter around him and began his trek down the hill.

Eyebrows furrowed, a grim frown, knuckles white--Argo carefully stepped past the piles of freshly dug grave dirt and read each headstone as he walked up and down the aisles of the cemetery. Crouching at the final grave, Argo placed his hand on his chin and contemplated the situation. He stared at the open grave, fit for a child--as the rest had been. Shaking his head slowly back and forth, the watcher stood abruptly and shouldered the War Mace slung across his back. He turned and made his way back to town. Night was coming, and the rain was falling faster. Fierce winds made the journey no easier.

Graham Mantlegyr jumped to his feet in a moment's notice at the sound of breaking glass. The noise from outside was greater now, pounding at the dwarf's keen hearing. Grunting in annoyance, the hardened dwarf slipped a hand under the cushion his head was resting on and brandished a hand axe. He carefully eased the door open from his room, warm lamp light spilled into the darkened hallway occasionally lit from the ghastly storm raging outside. The second story was simple, only a landing and a door to the dwarf's private room. He stopped at the top of the stairs and allowed his darkvision to adjust from the sudden brightness from his room to the swallowing darkness downstairs.

The gentle patter of rain on wood could be heard, the dwarf squinted and frowned. He stood atop the stairs for a moment, running a thumb down the sharp edge of the axe head and considered what had happened. Perhaps a busted window? The dwarf cursed under his breath and suddenly made his way down the stairs hurriedly, practically bouncing from each foot on his way down.

Cracked glass was strewn across a simple oak table pushed up against the far wall, rain drifted in with the violent wind. Muddy steps covered the floor. Tightening his grip on the hand axe, Graham concentrated on a small form crouched beneath the table. A foul stench reached his nose, causing him to blanch in disgust and mutter, "Alright ye' foul scum sucker, get on ya' feet so we can get this ova' with."

The small form shifted, Graham could tell it was the size of a child. It was rocking back and forth and holding it's knees, eyes closed. "C'mon, ye' git," the dwarf said, gesturing with his free hand in an act of challenge. "Git out from under me good table, ye' stench'll muddy up mah food for days." The child ceased rocking and began crawling out from beneath the table on it's hands and knees, stopping short once it was out from beneath the cover and standing up to it's full height.

The child was barely shorter then the dwarf, strands of flesh hung from it's arms and fingers--bones visible, a torn ceremonial suit was covered in dirt. The boy smiled and opened his eyes, tilting his head to the side. "Don't you wanna play with me?" The boy's words hung in the silence, a brief lull in the raging storm outside. They stung the air coming from a throat that sounded like it had done nothing but scream itself raw it's entire life.

"Sure lad," Graham replied hefting his hand axe. "You and my friend here'll get real acquai--" the dwarf was cut short as a heavy weight rammed into him from behind, throwing him face first into the ground and knocking the hand axe from his hand. A shrieking girl pounded her hands into the dwarf's back and dug dirt-filled nails into his skin. Graham growled and pushed himself to his feet. Reaching an arm over his shoulder, the dwarf caught a fistful of hair and yanked hard, trying to throw the girl over his shoulder. Instead he was left staring at the top of a scalp, having torn the hair clean from the girl's skull. He cursed and threw the flesh aside. Graham didn't wait to see what the boy had in store for him, he had a problem on his back to deal with. The dwarf threw himself back, an audible crack sounding louder then the thunder outside. Graham wasn't sure, but some piece--maybe an arm of the little girl's flew out from under him.

The little pain on his back had ceased moving, and the boy was on the move. Launching himself into the air, Graham lifted his leg and kicked out. He caught the boy in the chest and sent him flying on top of the table. The dwarf rolled on his stomach to reach his trusty hand axe and got his feet back under him, turning in time to catch the boy as he began sliding off the table. Graham tossed the hand axe over his head and caught it with his left hand, just as he was rearing back as if to strike the boy. Instead he drove the head of the axe into the boys stomach, practically shearing him in two. A grunt and a jerk later, the head of the axe was free from the table and a second chop later the boy was headless.

Suddenly the door burst open bringing all the raging elements from outside in. A small skeletal child stood silhouetted in the doorway against the lighting with blazing red eyes. Graham cocked his hand back and readied to throw the hand axe, when a second flash blinded him. A larger silhouette had overshadowed the skeletal boy.

Argo raised his War Mace high overhead and brought it down double-handed, reducing the skeletal child in the doorway to shattered bones. He pried the Mace Head free from the mud with a sickening squelch and shook himself dry as he entered his old friend's home, shutting the door behind him.

"The man's gone too far this time, Graham." Argo said grimly, holding the War Mace in one hand. Graham could only nod in agreement.

[blackheart]

Hey, nice.

[Black Hand Enclave]

Strange but very interesting