Closed The Haunted Hunt (Richard)

Slaughter is not the only nighttime predator, though he gets all the blame.

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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The Haunted Hunt (Richard)

Postby Slaughter on May 7th, 2015, 6:58 am

64th of Spring, 515AV
The Riverside, Beside the Mudway


Night in Sunberth was never a good time to be walking about. Especially long after the sun had gone down and long before it would rise again in the morning, the thick impenetrable darkness seeping through the streets like a heavy fog, rolling down over the sides of the buildings and spilling off of the rooftops. It was here that predators did their best work, unhindered by the suspicious gazes of the public and the threat of a mob, hidden from even those casual observers that dared walked around at this hour by the wall of darkness. These were all reasons Slaughter loved hunting around midnight, where a predator would have the cover of darkness to hunt and feast.

Soaring through the night sky, a shadow sailing among the stars, Slaughter flapped his wings continuously as he carried himself high above the river that ran through Sunberth, heading north in the direction of some curiosities he'd heard about. Upstream he flew, tracing the source of the muddied waters through the city.

The Zith had caught wind of the river being called the Mudway, and though the name was odd it seemed appropriate. So dark were the waters below that it did appear a lot like mud, though it flowed far too quickly. Tempting as it was to discover the truth, it would be wiser for the Zith currently to refrain from nearing the ground in this particular part of town, the reason for that being some dangerous rumors that had also reached the Zith's ears.

At around the same time Slaughter found the name for the river, he also heard about a short series of murders that took place north of where he was, in an area called the Riverside. Even though murders were not uncommon, all the gossipers seemed convinced that the killer had been a Zith. For that reason, he made sure to avoid the people of the Riverside, just in case anyone felt the need to be proactive in their defense.

Which meant that, unless he could find a loner somewhere in the tangled streets, there would be no hunt tonight.

Purposefully flying directly above the river, Slaughter had so far done a good job of avoiding the ground for tonight, a streak that he was happy with yet was unsure whether or not he could maintain. It was incredibly boring not being able to hunt, or even inspect things. Although the Zith didn't tend to think of himself as impatient, he did seem especially fidgety tonight.

Then, from below in the direction of the Riverside, a cry for help reached Slaughter's ears, which were far more sensitive than a human's. His first reaction was one of excitement, as it meant that there was easy prey in the vicinity that he could toy with. His second reaction was the thought occurring to him that maybe this victim was of the other Zith Slaughter had heard about in the rumors.

One way or another, the Zith immediately abandoned the Mudway and headed toward where the cry for help had come from, which were followed by sounds of tearing flesh and some snapping bone. Thanks to the constant noise, it was easy for Slaughter to follow his ears toward the sound, changing direction in the sky as he found himself getting closer and closer to the source. Even the slightest change of course would bring him closer to the right direction, and before long he was headed straight towards the noise. Cries of pain and fear quickly subsided, followed only by the sound of more ripping flesh, which in turn was followed by silence long after.

Even though the noise had stopped, Slaughter was now so close that he was almost above the source. Looking down with his amber eyes, it did not take him long to find the mauled corpse of some victim in one of the alleyways below.

Completely contrary to his instincts of safety, the Zith followed his curiosity down to the corpse, where he landed gently by bracing his foot-claws so as to reduce the noise made. It wouldn't do well for some sap to find him at the crime scene and blame him for it. Once on the ground, Slaughter turned to look at the dismembered body; what would have been a grisly sight for most humans, but to the Zith was just the arrangement of a recent meal.
Slaughter may be picked up soon. Be patient!
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The Haunted Hunt (Richard)

Postby Richard Blow on May 9th, 2015, 9:22 am

Today had been a good day so far for Richard. He'd scored some free booze from a lady who had been haunted by a plant chucker, found a copper Miza lying on the road, and now he was winning his card game with Lenny and Big Steve.

"Ya gonna play Lenny, or you hoping we gonna nod off so you can see our hands?" Richard muttered impatiently, slouching back in his rickety wooden chair and rolling his head. They all sat in a small room lit solely by a solitary candle on a rough-cut oak table, with the exception of Lenny, who floated on account of being a ghost.
"You jus' gimme a chime, Rich. I'm thinkin'." Lenny said ponderously, pulling in his lip as he phased slightly into the table, caught himself, and went back to hovering over his chair.
"Yeah, you been thinkin' the last ten chimes." growled Big Steve, "Either play or fold ya damned spook!"
"Oi! I haven't spooked no one since oh-seven, an' I don' like being called names!"
"Well excuuse me, princess!"

Richard sighed, mused on the nature of man's relationship to spirit, and tried to sneak a peek at Big Steve's cards while they argued, when a noise at the edge of his perception caused him to stiffen up. It sounded like a cat getting pushed by a meat grinder, if the cat was also a middle-aged woman. It took a few ticks for the two (well, one and a half) men to notice the Spiritist's posture and shush and listen themselves, at which point the screams had stopped.
"Th'petch was that?" Big Steve said flatly.
"I'unno." Lenny replied as he grabbed a glance at Steve's cards. "Think we should check?"
"Naw, probably someone killed a hooker again." he drawled dismissively.
"Maybe they jus' playin' dead?" Lenny shot back. "An' we can help 'em?"
"Yeah, but if they're mad and hot, you could get a lady friend Lenny." came Steve's reply. Richard was too busy trying to decide if he should pre-emptively bring a mop when he left to go home when he heard his name mentioned.
"Richy's closest to the window, have him check."

The wizard blinked twice, shrugged at them, then quickly slid the window open.

Slaughter was looking at a muscular woman in her fifties in gingham with a knife scar on her nose, amateurishly carved up with a meat cleaver that was now stuck in her sternum. Her weathered face was contorted by fear. Suddenly he'd hear the sound of a wooden window scratching open and a male voice saying "Aw, jeez..." While Richard was a touch too dark to go pale, his body was doing its best as he gawked at the scene.
"Richy, what is it? Was it a hooker?" Lenny piped curiously, his transluscent face popping next to Richard's in the windowframe, before he saw the corpse, turned away and moaned "Aw jeez..."
"Oh come on, it can't be that bad!" snapped Big Steve as he shoved his way to the window. "You're both just a bunch of ba- aw, jeez..."

Richard stared at Slaughter for a few ticks, turned away to process what just went down and return to his card game, then stiffened as if struck by lightning. "Zith eat corpses." he deadpanned. Immediately afterwards the Spiritist grabbed his chair and bolted with it into the alley. "Oi! Batman! Away from the cadaver!" he shouted as he shook the furniture threateningly. "That's for the family, not your belly!"
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Richard Blow
Really More of a Ghostwrangler
 
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The Haunted Hunt (Richard)

Postby Slaughter on May 9th, 2015, 9:54 am

It didn't look all that bad quite honestly.

Of course, Slaughter had the perspective of a Zith whose regular nightly meal consisted of dismembered or otherwise gored humans, but it was his lifestyle that he considered normal and the humans who were weird. Such a whiny and weak-stomached race was odd to hold the position of most populous. The scene before the Zith was much like one he would find back in his homeland, minus the meat cleaver. Back home, the brood would rip into their prey with claws, not knives.

When the odd humans were done gawking and returned to whatever it was they'd left, Slaughter took a closer look at the corpse. There was a knife of some sort lodged in the woman's chest, which he wrapped his claw around and pulled out with some minor force. A cleaver it was called, or so Slaughter remembered. Used for butchering meat in civilized settlements. It seemed appropriate that it appeared to be the tool for the woman's demise.

Looking back at the deceased woman, the Zith felt a curiosity to find out more. Such a mauling would certainly spread rumors of Zith attacks, but this clearly wasn't the work of a Zith.

Before he could really start digging into the woman's innards (and maybe sneaking a bite or two), however, a house door burst open to spew forth a wild-looking dark-skinned man brandishing a chair like it was a fearsome weapon. It didn't escape Slaughter's notice that it was the same man who had looked out onto the scene from his window. Confused as to the human's urgency, Slaughter gestured with the cleaver at the woman's dead body.

"This not me," the Zith said in his rudimentary Common, aware but uncaring of how incredulous such a statement must have sounded. Still, he remained right by the corpse, unwilling to surrender such a curiosity so easily.
Slaughter may be picked up soon. Be patient!
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Slaughter
Fear is the greatest weapon
 
Posts: 38
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Joined roleplay: April 14th, 2015, 12:49 am
Location: Sunberth, Sylira
Race: Zith
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The Haunted Hunt (Richard)

Postby Richard Blow on May 15th, 2015, 10:04 pm

"Obviously. You... Whatever you are don't use meat cleavers." Richard with an implied "Duh." Lenny leaned through the wall with a look on his face akin to that of a child excited to see grownups arguing.

"But you can't eat her either!" the Spiritist said with another shake of his chair. "Her family's gonna want to bury her. Ooh, I bet she has kids." he moaned, leaning back and looking up, exasperated. "Y'think one of them did it?" Richard inquired quickly, snapping straight and looking directly at Slaughter with unsettling speed. At this point the Zith would begin to hear approaching footsteps. "Hear me out on this." the wizard muttered, planting the chair down with the back facing Slaughter, straddling it and plopping on with his arms resting on the back. "So she has a really nice collection of something. A cat made of solid silver? I'unno. But the important part is they decide they'll kill her and split the loot!"

"Uh... Richy?" Lenny piped nervously as angry men with various blunt instruments filed in on either side of the alley. Two of them were carrying a fishing net. All of them were staring at Slaughter like he was a mosquito who somehow managed to murder somebody's grandma.

Richard twisted around to look at the mob, twisted back to look at the Zith, and deadpanned "Well, you're screwed."

"Oi! Isn't that the magic man?" a reedy voice in the throng asked angrily. "It is, ain't it?" another, warblier one chimed in. "I bet they're in cahoots!" barked yet another. "I bet the Zith offered to trade a tooth for Maggy's silverware!"

"Hey!" Richard snapped as he stood up, "Those are Maledictors. I'm a Spiritist. Big difference."
"So the Zith sold his soul, too?"

It was at this point that Richard facepalmed. "I think you're both screwed." Lenny said gravely.
"I can see that." growled the Wizard as he backed towards the corpse. "Oi! If one of you knows me, you know I look into this shyke for a living." he shouted back to the mob. "Now, I'unno about batman here," he said with a limp-wristed jab of his thumb in Slaughter's direction, "but I got an alibi. I was playing cards with the boys when Maggy died, wasn't I Lenny?" Lenny nodded vigorously in response.

"And the Zith?"
At this point, Richard was faced with a dilemma. Help a known man-eater and frankly not-too-nice smelling monster, or get the heck out of the way and try to tune out the poor thing getting beaten to death. While the Spiritist stood there in silent thought, the mob was starting to look restless.
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Richard Blow
Really More of a Ghostwrangler
 
Posts: 84
Words: 51021
Joined roleplay: October 1st, 2013, 1:20 pm
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