ESCAPE | Running from a Jester

[Werew0lf 12024]

 

“KEKEKE. KEKEKE!”

 

A necromancer wandered down a row of stairs; his cackle, as evil and vile as his person, resonated from each cell-block. Funnybone, one some knew from his prior warband of undead, halted before the large set of iron-bars. 

 

The priest in question, Father Stanislaw, lay slumped in the corner of the chambers. He was without a left arm, and his body was littered in scars from devastating torture. Yet, throughout the year, he only murmured prayers to the Lord, and would admonish the necromancers for their existence. A plate of runny, dredged food besmirched the dirt, flipped and cluttered with dry peas, and mushy bread. To his right, the corpse of a fallen soldier splayed with a rusted longsword. 

 

Funnybone, the Jester in question, brought his hands around - clutching the iron-bars. He continued to laugh, before speaking. “Man come on.. Every time I see you, you got this huge frown on your face. You’re a CELL-ebrity now! Start acting like it!” The necromancer laughed, as two undead summons nearby followed in cackles, their jaws and bones jittery.

 

Stanislaw heard jangling bells in the distance; the necromancers were readying to leave once again - and this would leave him alone. He feared attempting to escape in their presence, but knew it had to be done before they returned. 

 

It was as the necromancer left, that the priest fiddled one hand into his pocket, to remove a rudimentary lock-pick that had not been taken from his person. 

 

 

CREAK. . . .

 

The cell door opened. Father Stanislaw tip-toed out, with each movement causing his body to ache and pain. He turned to his left, and noticed something.

 

 

With a rotten, old skull now in hand - the priest allowed for it to fall on his head, acting as a disguise. Stanislaw continued to rush up a set of stairs, only to find that he appeared out of a tattered lakeside. He ran for the treelines, not turning back to remember his path. 

 

Funnybone returned a few hours later, and peered into the cell-block, noticing the iron-door was open. His eyes nearly popped out of his socket, and his fist clenched; the necromancer pivot and swung at a nearby undead summon, causing its head to fall. 

 

"A man escapes from prison. What are his initials? S. K. P." Funnybone drawls, yet he did not laugh - clearly, not finding the joke, or the situation funny. It caused him to burst with rage, as he set off with another army of raised dead to find the priest, or a new one. 

Credit:

Spoiler

 @Trey thanks for the very cool and swagger rp mr. jester man very sweet

 

@creamynoteblock same to u

 

events regarding undead invasions will still be going on (i believe ?)

 

[DISCOLIQUID 1963]

"I refuse to believe this wasn't contrived from the beginning to tell this joke," comments schizophrenic.

[Frostdrop1 875]

After the return of Stanislaw, Audo Weiss fetched him some water, some Carrion Black and a fresh bowl of Ukha for when he awoke. He left little to the public eye of his family, especially given tensions rising to a duel. However, once confined to the solidarity of his room in the halls of Staalgrav he closed his eyes and took a breath.
 

"Spasivo, GOD... spasiva..."  He muttered, raising his hands to wipe joyful tears away from his automaton eye and the topaz he now bore. 

All the suffering he had lived through - that his family has lived through - could finally be over. And, now, vengeance could be sought in earnest.