A Bloody Message

[monalisa 7]

 

The Stone Road would seem especially unwelcoming to those walking along it, as if it had born witness to something horrid. The closer one came to Petrus, the greater the feeling of dread would be, until one arrived at the crossroad between the Widow's Woods, Petrus, and Atlas Arena.

 

First, the feeling of dread would escalate. Your heart would speed up, adrenaline rushing, blood pumping. Your mind would be racing, asking questions such as "What is going on?", or "What has happened here?", however the answers to these shall not come - yet.

 

Then, you'd smell it. A pungent, evil, smell, the smell of death. It would fill your nostrils, cloud your vision, like a dense fog, consuming your thoughts. It refused to be ignored. You would continue on, now anxious to discover the source.

 

Finally, you'd see it. A corpse, relatively fresh, but decay would come soon. Blood soaked the cold stone beneath it, forming a dark, crimson, pool. Red blood trails away from the corpse east, into the Widow's Woods.*

 

You might rush towards the body, to get a better look. You'd be greeted with an even more gruesome scene. 

 

The body of a man, thin, although tall, with a dark brown goatee. His hair would be long, going down to his shoulders, although it would be filled with leaves and other dirt, as if he had been running. His ears would be pointed, his skin tan, a wood elf. A chain, that of a necklace or amulet, would wrap around his neck, but the pendant would appear to be missing, severed. His face would be that of terror, his eyes wide and mouth open, as if he had been killed while screaming.

 

His throat would be torn open, but irregularly. The cut would start on his right side, very rugged, as if he was being cut slowly. But, around halfway across the neck, the cut would seem to suddenly increase in quality, becoming smooth and straight, like someone had suddenly slashed the rest of his neck open.

 

As you moved down the body in that fashion, the next thing you'd see would be his chest. His coat, possibly that of a nobleman, lined with gold buttons, would be torn open, his bleeding chest revealed. The mark of Iblees would be burnt into the flesh on his chest, and, with closer inspection, on both his wrists. 

 

Scratched on top of the Eye of Iblees would be:

 

Mali', Beware.

You have stolen

Fifteen years of

my life, so I

shall take

fifteen lives

of yours.

 

From the

Covenant of

Mar to the

Mali...

 

 

*If one followed the blood trail, they would be led deep into the forest, until they arrived at a small clearing. Here, they would find nothing remarkable, except for a small pendant lying on the grass, the mark of Iblees engraved into it.

[SonOfAragorn 7]

*Amondir the White comes along the gruesome scene inspecting everything*

"It would appear a battle has taken place. A cultist has met his end. Good. That's one less problem for The Guardians to handle."

*Amondir the White continues on into the woods looking for signs of the struggle*

[TavernLich 324]

Alciel wanders through the woods, a slight wind blowing through his hair as he sees the body. Alciel looks at the body and grins, taking out his knife, he begins to carve into the body: From the Covenant of Mar to the Mali... He laughs aloud before silencing himself, "Let's see how the other Mali will like this." With a swish of his cloak, he turns and heads out of the woods, blood staining his small knife.

EDIT: ((To the post bellow, thanks really cool for you to add that!))

[monalisa 7]

Alciel wanders through the woods, a slight wind blowing through his hair as he sees the body. Alciel looks at the body and grins, taking out his knife, he begins to carve into the body: From the Covenant of Mar to the Mali... He laughs aloud before silencing himself, "Let's see how the other Mali will like this." With a swish of his cloak, he turns and heads out of the woods, blood staining his small knife.

 

((Post edited to have that message. 

[monalisa 7]

Nydari stumbles upon the corpse, and winces. "Perhaps a Kha has joined the cultists' ranks..." He then spots the newer message. "I thought Mar was disbanded..."

[Baconthief 682]

"Dirty faeries. Always flaying, skinning, and murdering people for their own arousal. No reason, no logic, no order behind their madness. "

 

Mizziyrn would clean up the mess, burying the wood elf corpse in an unmarked grave at the fringe of the widow's wood. Mizziyrn gives a small prayer to the spirits of his ancestors, asking their aid in the guidance of the fallen innocent's soul. Mizziyrn would depart, mumbling to himself about pale-skins, edgies, pink-haired dark elves, and cultists who are by nature an affront to peace.

 

Mizziyrn does not bother with going deeper in the woods, he will not find the small pendant.

[The Elder Eye 101]

((Sorry if this is considered necroposting.))

 

 

Valmuel walks through the woods on his daily search for good camping places... His robes flutter behind himself as he walks through the woods.

 

He spots the body, pushing his long white hair back behind his large High Elven ears,

"My goodness... What a sight. Well, a dead cultist is a cultist never deserving to have lived in the first place... Unless he's an undead cultist..."

 

He continues walking along the bloodied path when he comes upon the amulet,

"A bit far from your owner, aren't we..? Oh well, I'm sure he won't miss you, he's dead."

 

He pockets the amulet, continuing on his merry way.

[Glyc 234]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.