The Crown Of Thorns

[Swgrclan 2682]

A light fog lingers the dark streets of the Ildon Highway as the sun slowly rises into the sky; the black blanket of night is swept away by the refreshing light of the bright star, but the fog seems to linger. An abnormal occurrance, though understandable nonetheless. Snow had plagued Oren and the common-rabble that wandered the Ildon Highway assumed the fog was a bi-product of chilly seasons.

Fog was not the only bothersome factor that morning.

It was.. out in the open, as if no effort was made to hide it. Within the Adunian Crossroads, not far from the gate that leads into Salvus land hung what appeared to be a mauled corpse of a young human male -- the sight was grueling to say the least.


 

The young man's arms and legs appeared to have been harshly torn from their sockets, and beneath the blood-drenched torso of the young man laid a large mare, assumed wild as it holds no saddle nor gear with it's thick gullet burst open. Like the torso that hung from the Ildon Arch, this horse had festered overnight; the scent of the combined cadavers expelling a putrid stench of rot and decay into the chilly air, gripping the roadside town and it's keep with the ungodly musk.

But this abhorrent, gut-wrenching murder didn't appear without specific details. Upon the pale torso's back was drawn an eye in blood -- the symbol was distinctive and known by most of the masses. The eye stared unblinking, it's master's rage said to funnel through it onto whatever it glares upon.



Atop the poor male's head sat a crown wrought from iron thorns forged together roughly, as if the maker of such a piece was inexperienced in the craft he dabbled in to conjurate such an abhorrent mess of painful, sharp points and jagged edges.



But that was not all. The torso's mouth appeared to have been gagged with a roughly-hewn scrap of linen; and should anyone who approaches the corpse garners the will to take it from the cadaver's maw, they would notice a dull message written upon it's tattered surface.

It would state the following, a message eerily similar to another found upon a similar murder scene:

"'Power,' sought the knightly man, who wished for nobles in his land,"

Here hung Ser David Winter, Knight of House Winter, bearer of the Crown of Shame. He wasn't the first of these unsettling slaughterings, and it will soon be known he will not be the last.

[ĔṀĔŔĨĨČĶ 519]

A random Adunian looks in horror at the body. When he sees the same man, apparently alive, looking his own body he is even more horrified. "By the three..."

 

He quickly ran away, oddly not used to seeing dead bodies like apparently everyone else in Anthos.

[TheBareSheet 194]

Amber had woken up in the porch of Count Darek Althered. With David's tabard still across her shoulders. For some reason, she felt a chill run through her. She pulled the tabard closer over her shoulders, as she looked out at the docks of Abresi.

[bickando 3967]

Darek woke up sitting on his stairs. With Amber still on his porch. For some reason, he felt a chill run through him. He searches his pockets for a key, then looks out at the fountain square of Abresi.

[yopplwasupxxx 5946]

Derick sees this, shrugging, thinking his body will make a nice decoration.

[Moot 1719]

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