Post by Ekaterina on Oct 28, 2012 15:18:06 GMT -5
Samhain was just around the corner and the preparations for the celebrations were well underway. It was the natives’ way of trying to forget all that's transpired in the past few months. One night to be forgetful let their hair down and enjoy life, by celebrating death and paying tribute to those recently and long since passed away. For some it was a night like any other, although the celebrations were indeed a taunt and lure to join in the preseason festivities. This had the streets full of life, even though the chill of the impending winter was visiting the night. Minstrels played upon the corners whilst the locals danced in the streets. The mead and ale flowed freely as it was being served at the local tavern upon the outside bar and several tents within the market place. Merchants were taking advantage of the festive crowds by remaining later than usual to sell their wares before the seasons change forced them to move on. The Norse partook not of the festivities, though a tankard of mead was grasped firmly in hand. Adorned in a hooded cloak fashioned from the thick dark fur pelts of black timber wolves, worn over like colored leather. Between the casting of shadows by the torch and lantern lights that surrounded the area, and the placement of that hood to obscure features from view. She rested with her back against one of the structures walls, watching the milling crowds and making eye contact with her men who meandered about within them. A means of protection of people who didn't even know they were doing such.
He was near by the area of festivities however he may not be visible but one of his masks was leaned against a barrel of something one would just think someone set the mask down , but now it was watching the going on's waiting watching as well as maybe possibly thinking of a plausible approach. Who knew!
Also upon the docks, was not the barbarian king himself, but Corothius, the Spaniard pirate who had his ship docked a few piers distant and had left its deck to allow his men and himself to enjoy the festivities of the season. It was not every day that free ale and mead were handed out upon the docks of Kiel, or the docks of any city if one looked into it. The tale of such a festive approaching time had caught one of his men’s' attention upon an earlier visit, and they were sure to be there this day to take advantage of it. Some of his men had wondered off on their own to either a tavern of their favor, others had kept near the ship where a vendor had drawn them in to his own free tankards of ale that they were swift to tend to and still be able to keep an eye upon their vessel. Corothius himself strode forth with a hollowed horn in his fist that had brass engraved upon the surrounding rim of it that met his lips now and then. Perhaps to tip towards the passing of a woman who'd meet his fancy. A cloak of dark crimson was worn upon the burl of his otherwise bare shoulders. Though a mantle of the same thick weave of cloth also hung from his shoulders and well over his chest to give fervor of warmth in this coming of season.
All seemed to be going well, though the rowdy nature of the crowd was growing with each passing hour. There were many who had taken to adorning masks to hide their identity from the world, which would perhaps make one mask wielding individual a happy camper in a sense. Colorful outfits, some even fashioned to mimic their favorite myth or legend. Though there were many who wore their norm, although they might fit well into the costumed crowd due to the extravagance of their chosen wardrobe. As she watched those about her, a movement from the corner of her eye had attention immediately shift. A group of men, sailors they appeared by their cut of cloth, rugged looks, and the swagger to their walk. Well into their cups and enjoying more with no intent to end their night anytime soon, their swagger took on a bit more sway and side to side motion of footing. Her tankard lifted to drink from would be the iconic moment that drew the attention of said men. It had their saunter soon shift into her direction, and this was the motion that captivated her attention as they neared. She could hear their banter as they spoke amongst each other, and perhaps a wager as to whom was going to unwrap the present to find the prize beneath? Enough that it had the hand holding the tankard to slowly lower to rest before her, cloaked head tilted slightly as she now openly watched their approach. They were grinning much like the Gargoyle figures that sat upon their stone perches upon the edges of many manor roofs. This had her left leather encased hand to slowly slip into the fur confines of that cloak. The men stopped a few feet away, the taller of the five would step towards her and hold out an index to point directly towards her, then crook it in with a back and forth motion meant to beckon her near. Though she moved not, nor spoke a word, as she continued that position of comfort, though the group was being weighted and measured in truth.
And now.. It’s time to place the fun into action...." The masks eye holes began to glow red for just a few seconds until a wind would begin to pick up it would attack some of the torches and lanterns causing an icy chill to from the buildup of the breeze and brought it down upon the celebration. That was not all though soon as the breeze had gone through everything it suddenly gone away just to get the attention out of the people. REOOOOWWWWWW!!! A cat's cry would erupt and echo throughout the area as if coming from everywhere. " Look!" one of the elders who were enjoying the festivities pointed upwards as a strange green hue colored glowing cloud in the shape of a cat was approaching. RrrrRRRREEEOOooooowwwwwWWWW! The cry of the cat came again and as before it came from every angle every direction above and below the cat shaped cloud would dissolve into a misty like substance and fall from the sky. It scattered toward the area onto to reshape and land not far from the festivities. Anyone brave enough to hurry to the area where the thing had crashed would be presented with an odd gift. There stood a Japanese crucifix, and pinned to it with wooden stakes in both ankles and palms was the hostage which had been taken. Naked except for torn rags around his waist. Bruised and bleeding from toe to head. His face brutally bashed in and swelled to a melon. little incisions for chains with hooked ends hung on him with His chest was bloody and covered with claw marks as well as brands of runes and dark spell crests. Someone had also carved a message on his chest." Beware" That was all that was written.
Corothius was not immediately in the vicinity of the dock where the cloud descended. Nor did he want to be when such a commotion arose around him, and everyone else that startled many a man and woman from their festive mood. They had not experienced anything like it before any doubt and did not know what to expect to be the cause of it at all. That is until that green cloud of dust descended upon them. It was when the crucifix would appear in the clouds place with the man upon it that many would rush away in abject fear of the unknown and gasp and scream forth in the night at the horrible sight. Then one man, with a cone shaped hat that broadened out well beyond his shoulders rushed up towards the crucifix held man with gnarled hands and pink peppered flesh. In his raspy toothless voice he would shout and look up to the ruined man with fear and sorrow thickening his voice." well?! Is he alright!?" The words dramatically held in the air before him as he waited for someone who could actually reach and pull the man down to make certain of the matter whilst all the old one could do is watch and allow tears to glisten his poor eyes at the sight of such torture or affliction of pain. To the commotion, Corothius would make headway to see what was going on...figuring if no wreaking’s of death were arising from such a descent then it would be safe enough by the time he got there to not fear death so quickly
Whatever the situation that was about to transpire between the Norse and the sailors, that would never be known. The screams of terror, shouts of horror, and rush of many from the docks would gain the attention of them all. The five would turn and rush into the crowd to see what was going on. It would captivate her attention as well. Many of her men were already heading in that direction, a motion of that leather encased hand that reappeared from cloak confines would have the rest moving with her as she too headed that way. The tankard cast aside without a glance as she shouldered her way through those running away, and those quickly moving towards the grisly scene. Soon she'd make it close enough to view that which was put on display and caused her to pause. A hand lifted to draw back that hood which now exposed the Nordic woman's features, with narrowed eyes upon the battered features and body of the man. A glance to a few of her men at her side. "Take care of him, quickly." A nod of their heads as they pushed through the crowd and made way to the suspended body of the man; not knowing whom he was, or that he had been anyone's hostage. They would set to the task of finding a way to get the man off the crossed planks of wood without causing further damage to his already brutalized form.
There was no sounds but the mask that had a look of life to it now had a chuckling expression on its face as it watched all who came to look at display that was delivered to them it did however cause a light vibration from the barrow causing it to float from it to avoid anyone losing their attention and focus on it now. The mask would back up into the shadows then. Just as it did a figure would be walking out from it he wore a black kimono with an olive green colored kamishimo vest and hakama. His features would have been attractive and pleasant if there were no rings around his weaken look eyes as well as sickly looking features and lightly paste colored flesh. He would approach with no emotion toward the crown and would look up at the scene before them with the other onlookers but unlike them his face showed no emotion.
The original old man crept towards the new one in the kimono, perhaps to rely upon some elder via elder comradery. His groaning tone elaborating how sorry he felt for the man beyond them."...oooo.. That’s such a horrible thing to do to someone, don't you agree? I don't see how anyone could have survived so much...I bet he won't live out the rest of the night... if he is even still alive... what'd u think?" an elbow concealed in a potato like sack cloth jutted towards the kimono wearing elder to draw the man's attention. Corothius meanwhile would finally make himself into the crowd as well, curiosity getting the better of him. Yet with the captives face so blown up and the rest of him in such bad shape, he barely recognized him as one of his men.
Many gathered around to check out just what was going on with the falling wood work and men strapped to it, and so too did he. The man stood taller than most with the aid of some short stilts, and held a few straw filled sacks hidden under his robes to simulate a fat gut, held fast with a broad rope belt. Over his head was a crude wooden mask and cap of an ogre with a long horse hair mustache and clean head to simulate the Ogres face, though for balance reasons a cord had been tied back around his neck and overtop the mess of black hair that hung to just below his neck, making sure it didn't chaff. It wasn't a bad costume, but it wasn't a great one either. Being taller than most, thanks to the stilts, the figure had leaned slightly over a few people in front of him, gloves stuffed with hay to make hands look bigger rested on shoulders as he gawked and stared upon the scene, making sure to stay out of the way as the Baroness' men moved to help the man.
Zahkar had managed to slip out of the tavern for a moment in order to check out all the commotion going on not too far outside. The man looked haggard, with circles under his eyes and a slight drop in his weight. His hands were now callused and his physical appearance more sinewy than before. As he made his way out he lifted his eyes and lifted his brows at the sight of the beaten man. Flashes of his own past shot through his mind, and in an instant a cold sheen of sweat was on his forehead. Keeping his head low and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, he edged forward, gnawing his bottom lip.
Her men circled about the cross and then looked back towards her. A motion of hand for them to hurry would have them turning back to begin work on removing the battered remains. It was then her focus turned upon the crowd that surrounded them. Icy shards of blue held the chilling edge their color depicted as she searched the crowd for some indication of who was to blame. One came to mind, but she could fathom no reason behind him doing such an action. He had laid claim to a tenth of Kiel's population with his recent little stunt, in the recruitment for a so called tournament, what purpose would this hold? Her men began to pry the body down, which caused his weak cries to echo forth. Some could not stomach watching the act and turned away to join those that now coward off in the distance. There were those who were too drunk or oblivious to the on goings due to their refusal to give up their night of drinking and frolicking, and continued their festive partying.
" Indeed it isshhh" he spoke with a hiss at the end of each word with an s like a perfect snake hiss" such a horrible act." he then turned away look as if he couldn't bear to see it and began moving away his eyes however drifted toward the one who seemed a little frightful Zahkar at the scene taking place. A faint and amused smiled appeared as the man would head down another alley disappearing into the shadows... Despair... a woman's laughter followed light purring of a cat would faintly arise from the call from the man the moment the mask was called.
A woman with a long black shawl wrapped around herself was roaming the streets moving pass the horrible scene when arriving to it she had long red ringlet curls sticking out from an old peasants bonnet. Only to bump into Zahkar nearly falling over.
Momentarily lost in the spectacle, he barely, perhaps only subconsciously noted that strange look the man gave him before making his way out of sight. Once more Zahkar’s gaze went to the tortured man being brought down, and his own aches and pains began to throb, as though he shared in this fellow's predicament. That's when a beautiful woman bumped into Zahkar, and it was only because of his quick reflexes was he able to keep her from falling over. "Careful..." He said in a quiet voice, as though he didn't want anyone to know he was outside.
Corothius paid little heed to the elders as they spoke, and knew no one else amongst the number gathered. Perhaps if the man regained his health and lived through the night he would become healed enough to be identified at a later time. Still, the very manner that the man was cast into the crowd and onto a crucifix that wasn't there in the first place was bothering him> He took another sip from the horn of his ale before he'd quietly step away, and begin to leave the area cautiously. In the process he unknowingly bumped into a man on stilts. And in the confusion of turning around knocked his inner boot against the stilts base, thinking it was a staff or something that could easily be knocked aside to tell some old man who probably should have been leaning upon it to step aside. It was only when he'd turn to look did he find it to be someone on stilts instead.
The bump unsettled him, causing him to stagger a bit and place more pressure upon the shoulder of one whom he rested his hand upon, who then in return, turned about, removing his support. Thus when the inner boot struck against his support, it was swept out from under him. This concluded with arms flailing for a moment and a sharp yelp as he fell, and a good fall he did have, for in addition to being a tall man, the stilts gave him an extra foot or so. With the crowd starting to separate, he also lacked the ability to cushion his fall with someone else. Thus the figure ended up on its back with a dull thump as comically oversized boots that had been put over the stilts went up in the air for a second before falling back down. What made the most noise of all however was the sharp crack of wood against the cobble stones as the back of his mask cap touched down. A low groan was emitted as those stuffed hands pressed against the stones and the figure sat up. Nothing could be seen of a face, for the rather laughable ogre mask simply looked at the man with small holes in the eyes drilled for seeing. "Oy!" Was all he really said, though no further vulgarity or curses towards the man escaped, as he was content to just be displeased, and not start a fight.
It wasn't so much that the strange looking living dead guy had moved towards the alley that captured her attention. It was the fact he dressed strangely, and that he looked to be one of the undead that did. This had the Norse set into motion heading after him, and not a second thought was placed upon the woman that appeared shortly after. Lucky for Zahkar her attention was upon the man she was following that had simply vanished. Or would it be his downfall? Once the man was removed from his display piece, the men would quickly carry him between them as they headed to the Bloody Bore Tavern. Usually a ships physician would be found hanging out with his shipmates or captain, if not in the company of one of the women for rent. They would take him to one of the room where he would be rendered aid, little stock placed in the fact he would survive. Into the alley she'd now enter to seek out the man she would never find, unbeknownst to herself.
- To be continued ... ->
He was near by the area of festivities however he may not be visible but one of his masks was leaned against a barrel of something one would just think someone set the mask down , but now it was watching the going on's waiting watching as well as maybe possibly thinking of a plausible approach. Who knew!
Also upon the docks, was not the barbarian king himself, but Corothius, the Spaniard pirate who had his ship docked a few piers distant and had left its deck to allow his men and himself to enjoy the festivities of the season. It was not every day that free ale and mead were handed out upon the docks of Kiel, or the docks of any city if one looked into it. The tale of such a festive approaching time had caught one of his men’s' attention upon an earlier visit, and they were sure to be there this day to take advantage of it. Some of his men had wondered off on their own to either a tavern of their favor, others had kept near the ship where a vendor had drawn them in to his own free tankards of ale that they were swift to tend to and still be able to keep an eye upon their vessel. Corothius himself strode forth with a hollowed horn in his fist that had brass engraved upon the surrounding rim of it that met his lips now and then. Perhaps to tip towards the passing of a woman who'd meet his fancy. A cloak of dark crimson was worn upon the burl of his otherwise bare shoulders. Though a mantle of the same thick weave of cloth also hung from his shoulders and well over his chest to give fervor of warmth in this coming of season.
All seemed to be going well, though the rowdy nature of the crowd was growing with each passing hour. There were many who had taken to adorning masks to hide their identity from the world, which would perhaps make one mask wielding individual a happy camper in a sense. Colorful outfits, some even fashioned to mimic their favorite myth or legend. Though there were many who wore their norm, although they might fit well into the costumed crowd due to the extravagance of their chosen wardrobe. As she watched those about her, a movement from the corner of her eye had attention immediately shift. A group of men, sailors they appeared by their cut of cloth, rugged looks, and the swagger to their walk. Well into their cups and enjoying more with no intent to end their night anytime soon, their swagger took on a bit more sway and side to side motion of footing. Her tankard lifted to drink from would be the iconic moment that drew the attention of said men. It had their saunter soon shift into her direction, and this was the motion that captivated her attention as they neared. She could hear their banter as they spoke amongst each other, and perhaps a wager as to whom was going to unwrap the present to find the prize beneath? Enough that it had the hand holding the tankard to slowly lower to rest before her, cloaked head tilted slightly as she now openly watched their approach. They were grinning much like the Gargoyle figures that sat upon their stone perches upon the edges of many manor roofs. This had her left leather encased hand to slowly slip into the fur confines of that cloak. The men stopped a few feet away, the taller of the five would step towards her and hold out an index to point directly towards her, then crook it in with a back and forth motion meant to beckon her near. Though she moved not, nor spoke a word, as she continued that position of comfort, though the group was being weighted and measured in truth.
And now.. It’s time to place the fun into action...." The masks eye holes began to glow red for just a few seconds until a wind would begin to pick up it would attack some of the torches and lanterns causing an icy chill to from the buildup of the breeze and brought it down upon the celebration. That was not all though soon as the breeze had gone through everything it suddenly gone away just to get the attention out of the people. REOOOOWWWWWW!!! A cat's cry would erupt and echo throughout the area as if coming from everywhere. " Look!" one of the elders who were enjoying the festivities pointed upwards as a strange green hue colored glowing cloud in the shape of a cat was approaching. RrrrRRRREEEOOooooowwwwwWWWW! The cry of the cat came again and as before it came from every angle every direction above and below the cat shaped cloud would dissolve into a misty like substance and fall from the sky. It scattered toward the area onto to reshape and land not far from the festivities. Anyone brave enough to hurry to the area where the thing had crashed would be presented with an odd gift. There stood a Japanese crucifix, and pinned to it with wooden stakes in both ankles and palms was the hostage which had been taken. Naked except for torn rags around his waist. Bruised and bleeding from toe to head. His face brutally bashed in and swelled to a melon. little incisions for chains with hooked ends hung on him with His chest was bloody and covered with claw marks as well as brands of runes and dark spell crests. Someone had also carved a message on his chest." Beware" That was all that was written.
Corothius was not immediately in the vicinity of the dock where the cloud descended. Nor did he want to be when such a commotion arose around him, and everyone else that startled many a man and woman from their festive mood. They had not experienced anything like it before any doubt and did not know what to expect to be the cause of it at all. That is until that green cloud of dust descended upon them. It was when the crucifix would appear in the clouds place with the man upon it that many would rush away in abject fear of the unknown and gasp and scream forth in the night at the horrible sight. Then one man, with a cone shaped hat that broadened out well beyond his shoulders rushed up towards the crucifix held man with gnarled hands and pink peppered flesh. In his raspy toothless voice he would shout and look up to the ruined man with fear and sorrow thickening his voice." well?! Is he alright!?" The words dramatically held in the air before him as he waited for someone who could actually reach and pull the man down to make certain of the matter whilst all the old one could do is watch and allow tears to glisten his poor eyes at the sight of such torture or affliction of pain. To the commotion, Corothius would make headway to see what was going on...figuring if no wreaking’s of death were arising from such a descent then it would be safe enough by the time he got there to not fear death so quickly
Whatever the situation that was about to transpire between the Norse and the sailors, that would never be known. The screams of terror, shouts of horror, and rush of many from the docks would gain the attention of them all. The five would turn and rush into the crowd to see what was going on. It would captivate her attention as well. Many of her men were already heading in that direction, a motion of that leather encased hand that reappeared from cloak confines would have the rest moving with her as she too headed that way. The tankard cast aside without a glance as she shouldered her way through those running away, and those quickly moving towards the grisly scene. Soon she'd make it close enough to view that which was put on display and caused her to pause. A hand lifted to draw back that hood which now exposed the Nordic woman's features, with narrowed eyes upon the battered features and body of the man. A glance to a few of her men at her side. "Take care of him, quickly." A nod of their heads as they pushed through the crowd and made way to the suspended body of the man; not knowing whom he was, or that he had been anyone's hostage. They would set to the task of finding a way to get the man off the crossed planks of wood without causing further damage to his already brutalized form.
There was no sounds but the mask that had a look of life to it now had a chuckling expression on its face as it watched all who came to look at display that was delivered to them it did however cause a light vibration from the barrow causing it to float from it to avoid anyone losing their attention and focus on it now. The mask would back up into the shadows then. Just as it did a figure would be walking out from it he wore a black kimono with an olive green colored kamishimo vest and hakama. His features would have been attractive and pleasant if there were no rings around his weaken look eyes as well as sickly looking features and lightly paste colored flesh. He would approach with no emotion toward the crown and would look up at the scene before them with the other onlookers but unlike them his face showed no emotion.
The original old man crept towards the new one in the kimono, perhaps to rely upon some elder via elder comradery. His groaning tone elaborating how sorry he felt for the man beyond them."...oooo.. That’s such a horrible thing to do to someone, don't you agree? I don't see how anyone could have survived so much...I bet he won't live out the rest of the night... if he is even still alive... what'd u think?" an elbow concealed in a potato like sack cloth jutted towards the kimono wearing elder to draw the man's attention. Corothius meanwhile would finally make himself into the crowd as well, curiosity getting the better of him. Yet with the captives face so blown up and the rest of him in such bad shape, he barely recognized him as one of his men.
Many gathered around to check out just what was going on with the falling wood work and men strapped to it, and so too did he. The man stood taller than most with the aid of some short stilts, and held a few straw filled sacks hidden under his robes to simulate a fat gut, held fast with a broad rope belt. Over his head was a crude wooden mask and cap of an ogre with a long horse hair mustache and clean head to simulate the Ogres face, though for balance reasons a cord had been tied back around his neck and overtop the mess of black hair that hung to just below his neck, making sure it didn't chaff. It wasn't a bad costume, but it wasn't a great one either. Being taller than most, thanks to the stilts, the figure had leaned slightly over a few people in front of him, gloves stuffed with hay to make hands look bigger rested on shoulders as he gawked and stared upon the scene, making sure to stay out of the way as the Baroness' men moved to help the man.
Zahkar had managed to slip out of the tavern for a moment in order to check out all the commotion going on not too far outside. The man looked haggard, with circles under his eyes and a slight drop in his weight. His hands were now callused and his physical appearance more sinewy than before. As he made his way out he lifted his eyes and lifted his brows at the sight of the beaten man. Flashes of his own past shot through his mind, and in an instant a cold sheen of sweat was on his forehead. Keeping his head low and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, he edged forward, gnawing his bottom lip.
Her men circled about the cross and then looked back towards her. A motion of hand for them to hurry would have them turning back to begin work on removing the battered remains. It was then her focus turned upon the crowd that surrounded them. Icy shards of blue held the chilling edge their color depicted as she searched the crowd for some indication of who was to blame. One came to mind, but she could fathom no reason behind him doing such an action. He had laid claim to a tenth of Kiel's population with his recent little stunt, in the recruitment for a so called tournament, what purpose would this hold? Her men began to pry the body down, which caused his weak cries to echo forth. Some could not stomach watching the act and turned away to join those that now coward off in the distance. There were those who were too drunk or oblivious to the on goings due to their refusal to give up their night of drinking and frolicking, and continued their festive partying.
" Indeed it isshhh" he spoke with a hiss at the end of each word with an s like a perfect snake hiss" such a horrible act." he then turned away look as if he couldn't bear to see it and began moving away his eyes however drifted toward the one who seemed a little frightful Zahkar at the scene taking place. A faint and amused smiled appeared as the man would head down another alley disappearing into the shadows... Despair... a woman's laughter followed light purring of a cat would faintly arise from the call from the man the moment the mask was called.
A woman with a long black shawl wrapped around herself was roaming the streets moving pass the horrible scene when arriving to it she had long red ringlet curls sticking out from an old peasants bonnet. Only to bump into Zahkar nearly falling over.
Momentarily lost in the spectacle, he barely, perhaps only subconsciously noted that strange look the man gave him before making his way out of sight. Once more Zahkar’s gaze went to the tortured man being brought down, and his own aches and pains began to throb, as though he shared in this fellow's predicament. That's when a beautiful woman bumped into Zahkar, and it was only because of his quick reflexes was he able to keep her from falling over. "Careful..." He said in a quiet voice, as though he didn't want anyone to know he was outside.
Corothius paid little heed to the elders as they spoke, and knew no one else amongst the number gathered. Perhaps if the man regained his health and lived through the night he would become healed enough to be identified at a later time. Still, the very manner that the man was cast into the crowd and onto a crucifix that wasn't there in the first place was bothering him> He took another sip from the horn of his ale before he'd quietly step away, and begin to leave the area cautiously. In the process he unknowingly bumped into a man on stilts. And in the confusion of turning around knocked his inner boot against the stilts base, thinking it was a staff or something that could easily be knocked aside to tell some old man who probably should have been leaning upon it to step aside. It was only when he'd turn to look did he find it to be someone on stilts instead.
The bump unsettled him, causing him to stagger a bit and place more pressure upon the shoulder of one whom he rested his hand upon, who then in return, turned about, removing his support. Thus when the inner boot struck against his support, it was swept out from under him. This concluded with arms flailing for a moment and a sharp yelp as he fell, and a good fall he did have, for in addition to being a tall man, the stilts gave him an extra foot or so. With the crowd starting to separate, he also lacked the ability to cushion his fall with someone else. Thus the figure ended up on its back with a dull thump as comically oversized boots that had been put over the stilts went up in the air for a second before falling back down. What made the most noise of all however was the sharp crack of wood against the cobble stones as the back of his mask cap touched down. A low groan was emitted as those stuffed hands pressed against the stones and the figure sat up. Nothing could be seen of a face, for the rather laughable ogre mask simply looked at the man with small holes in the eyes drilled for seeing. "Oy!" Was all he really said, though no further vulgarity or curses towards the man escaped, as he was content to just be displeased, and not start a fight.
It wasn't so much that the strange looking living dead guy had moved towards the alley that captured her attention. It was the fact he dressed strangely, and that he looked to be one of the undead that did. This had the Norse set into motion heading after him, and not a second thought was placed upon the woman that appeared shortly after. Lucky for Zahkar her attention was upon the man she was following that had simply vanished. Or would it be his downfall? Once the man was removed from his display piece, the men would quickly carry him between them as they headed to the Bloody Bore Tavern. Usually a ships physician would be found hanging out with his shipmates or captain, if not in the company of one of the women for rent. They would take him to one of the room where he would be rendered aid, little stock placed in the fact he would survive. Into the alley she'd now enter to seek out the man she would never find, unbeknownst to herself.
- To be continued ... ->