Shadows over Tharbad

[Avalyn]

Walking alone through the gates, the tall man glanced at the tower he had come to know as home and spat with disgust. Much had changed, and none of it good. Anger was coarsing through his veins, but he held it with a coldness he had previously thought he was not capable of. His cold fury would be held, and used against those who had taken from him what he knew was his right.

Instead of heading to the tower, he headed for the graveyard, the skies beginning to cry for the dead there as he moved with soundless haste along the cobbled streets. He stopped just before the grave of the man he had assumed the legacy of, his grandfather.

He looked up at the rain from under his grey hood and twisted his lips into a smile. He had come a long way since the old man had been dealt with, his life snuffed out by his supposed protege and grandson. It had been so easy to end the life of the old man, simply poison his wine, lovingly prepared for by his own grandaughter.

He smiled at the memory, his mother had been willing to help her son kill her own grandfather and see her son assume control of things. Now things had changed though, he no longer need the legacy, he could forge a future with just his own two hands, and he would. His hand slipped down to rest on the hilt of one of his swords and he looked at the grave.

'This time, Old Man, I shall show them the true meaning of what it is to suffer' Syrenik laughed, a howling maniacal laughter that echoed eerily around the silent graveyard.

[Johanna]

On the grave a small bouquet of freshely picked flowers were places.

[Avalyn]

The fires had long since died out, leaving the room feeling considerably more cold and empty than it actually was, the darkness that had flooded his senses when the last flicker of the light faded was a welcome feeling. A curved sword sat on the table, whilst its twin had pinned some poor unfortunate to the wall before the man.

Syrenik had precious little time to waste on cowards and traitors, but this one was special. This one deserved all the time in the world. A rat scurried by the victims feet, and they began to whimper, the soft cries of someone who had screamed until their voice failed them, the harsh sobs forced from them ripping at their throat. Syrenik smiled a sadistic twisted grin, evoking stiffled sobs from his victim. He reached up and gently stroked the womans face, brushing aside the hair that had hidden her face, all the while whispering soothing things to her.

'Well mother, I have decided to merciful after all. You should be thankful, raising a generous son, who even after being betrayed by his own flesh has decided to give you one last gift.' The sword on the table had almost jumped into its owners hand. 'Good bye mother, may Mandos take pity on a wretch such as yourself' Syrenik leant over as his mother increased her sobbing, and gently kissed her on the cheek, as he stepped back, he dragged his second sword from her stomach, leaving her staring at her only son with unblinking eyes. Syrenik raised his arms and slowly closed her eyes, before tearing the first blade from her shoulder, leaving the body to slump to the ground before him. He turned around and looked up.

'And now it is just you and I.' Syreniks twin looked at him and smiled, her determination and loyalty to her brother showing in her pale blue eyes. 'It is your turn now.'

[timppako]

He dodged a punch with ease and answered it with one of his own. The feeling of flesh and bones giving in to his punch made him feel better. He wathced as his opponent spat blood and teeth to the ground. He jumped towards him and sent his foot flying through the air. It hit its target. His opponent bended over and blood flew from his mouth. Immidiately after it he sent his elbow towards his opponents face. Again he felt bones giving in. He wathced as his opponent fell limply to the ground. Soon a pool of blood started to appear around his opponents head. He adjusted the iron rings around his wrists and looked around. It was all silent. People knew it was better to keep to your own things in the alley. Not to see or hear anything.
He grabbed the body by its leg and started to drag it towards the river.

He felt her fingers as they gently ran across his scarred back. He sighed as she poured more hot water on him. His muscles relaxed and he carefully brushed back a lock of her hair from her face. She was quite pretty, he thought. More so than most of the places he had been. He started to think about the last few months. He thought about the victims, repeated their names in his mind. It was good that She had sent him the message..., he started to think. Her voice interrupted him, he just nodded to her and she started to rub his shoulders. I must go and tell him that I finished all his tasks, he thought. But not tonight. He turned and grabbed her. As he started to pull her body against his he tought, not tonight.

[Dakota Strider]

The figure dressed in black walked up to the tower near the bridge in Eastern Tharbad. The doors turned out to be unlocked, so he pushed them open without knocking. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the entry way, he made out the armored men standing watch around the chamber. Ignoring the different statues to either side, he approached the one that appeared to be the leader of the guards.

"I am looking for the Silversword," he stated with a commanding voice, that did not fit his young looking countenance.

The guard hesitated a moment, but regained his composure quickly. "Who wants to see the Master?"

The visitor stared at the guard a moment then replied, "Tell him, that I come on behalf of an old acquaintance of his and his family, one that he best not refuse."

A bit unnerved by the man's cold stare, the guard stammered, "Th..the Master is not in right now."

The dark clad man spoke calmly, but with authority. "Then find him, and tell him I will be here in the morning. If he refuses, he will be passing up an opportunity he will not get again."

Not waiting for a response, the man turned on his heels, and strode out of the tower, looking straight ahead.