RP:Execution of Charlie Palts

From HollowWiki

Present

Location

Walking briskly along the dirt path, you see many dark shapes lurking in the undergrowth. The trees themselves seem malevolent, and the air is foul. Suddenly, you trip and curse. Quickly pulling yourself to your feet, you look at what tripped you up. It seems to be a yellow rock of some sort, yet the shape is familiar. Gagging, you back away; it is the remains of a human skull, belonging to one of the unfortunates in that ill-fated expedition. Shaking, you hurry on. West the forest continues, south is an intersection of sorts.
--Eastern Eternal Forest

Execution

Jacklin didn’t often venture into the Eternal Forest, but not for fear of danger. The elder simply had no interest in what ran amongst the suffocating foliage and eroded paths. Leather-wrapped hand cast aside both limbs and branches as she made her way into the clearing where Sapheul loitered. Eventually she emerged with aid of a lashing vine, a whipping noise cracking as it smacked against her back and propelled her outward in an undignified entrance. Although for Jacklin...grace wasn’t an essential quality. Composing herself once again she shifted steely sight to where the other stood patiently, never cracking so much as a smile at the antics of the Queen. Another, smaller figure was slumped over a downed tree along the path. “That him?”

Sapheul gave a cut nod at the inquiry. Giving the males leg a slightly nudge with his own foot as his spoke, “Been bawling the whole damn day. Arrived at Cenril port this morning ‘an I be bringing him up here.” Rolling the cigar between his lips back and fourth, honey-eyed stare dropping to the unnamed male as his knelt beside an already quaking body, “Said his name was Charlie Palts,” lifting an eye to where Jacklin stood the guardian continues, hesitantly, with the next few words of explanation, “Killed one of the Duke’s daughter over there. Just a nub of a girl.” Course palms closed around the collar of the males shirt and with ease lifted him into a seating position. Clearly, fear had won the match against Charlie. Eyes were half-closed and lips continued to mutter prayers for redemption. A little to late.

Jacklin shrugged at the queer look from her guardian, “Why should I care? I’ve killed a babe in my lifetime. Might as well do it while they’re young.” Right hand drove to her backside, fingers unlacing the leather binds which held Uabhasach to her body. Left hand rose to pull the black hood completely down over her face. Cobalt eyes still held a certain relevance behind the thin gauze, their stoic regard tilted down to where the shivering child-killer sat in what obviously were his final moments of life. With spear in left hand, features shielded now by the mask, the elder brawlers whiskey-worn voices provided the initial speech so engraved in her mind set over the years. “Best it be dark while the Executioner tasks.” Leather-wrapped fingers rose and directed Sapheul to the side.

Sapheul heeded the order without second thought. His neatly dressed body rising from Charlie and moving back to its former perch against one of the curved trees crowding the area. He’d certainly never experienced something like this in his lifetime. Growing up in the same town as Jacklin, the male was near her age but while the brawler had left, he had stayed. Living his entire life in one small city was a rather prideful point of his existence. Sure, he had heard stories of the Executioners. Nobody knew much besides rumors and long-told tales. Yet now he was under the command of one such creature. Watching Jacklin he knew best not to talk. Not to even move. When those words escaped, as humorous and overrated as they might have been, Sapheul knew they held a more powerful meaning. So there he stood, silent and watching as his Executioner worked.

Jacklin wasn’t one to waste time. Fingertips met the forehead of Charlie Palts, pushing his head back gently to expose the soft, fleshy neck. While some might have boasted about a kill, or taunted the poor man before his demise, Jacklin remained wordless. The Executioner does not talk during a task. Only before, never during. Straightening back up she gave a final look-over to her offering. And without noise, grand movement, or even indication she struck. Using the motion of her body to impale Charlie Palts’ neck right through to the log behind him. Almost instantaneously the blood began to show its face, building at the corner of his mouth and splashing downward along his pressed cotton shirt. Jacklin eased Uabhasach back from both log and Charlie, using a foot against the wood as leverage in the act. Her spear was now placed, quite gently, to the side. Now straddling the barley-there Charlie she sat on his chest, knees dug into the ground at each side. Fingers began to rip at the opening Uabhasach so graciously gifted. Tearing flesh away, splattering blood all over her leggings, the Queen never made a sound. It was only until all skin had been peeled away that she took claim of a small knife hiding somewhere within her person. Removing the shirt with a quick tear she aimed the knife directly above the heart. Plunging it deep, deep enough to know the attempt was true. Again flesh was ripped, bones snapped by sheer force and quality knife-work, until hands closed around a dead heart. No longer pumping that sweet, sweet blood. Jacklin now stood with the heart in hand. Moving to where flesh was gathered she again knelt over the mess and arranged the parts accordingly. Satisfied with the results, Jacklin got to her feet with an easy flex of ligaments and departed from the scene in a much more solemn manner than she had arrived in.

Sapheul dared not move as the sounds of bones snapping and flesh being torn from the body lit the atmosphere soundly. A droplet of sweat surfaced on his brow, his chest heaving with exerted breath as he tried vainly to maintain a steady composure. This was the first time he’d ever seen such...merriment of dismantling another. How could she say nothing? He couldn’t even hear her breathing behind the mask. It became clear in that moment of just why Jacklin was still alive. Why she led Larket and had respect from the citizens of the land. Jacklin was nothing short of a beast. A ruthless, cold, unhinged daughter of flawed design. Brows furrowed as he watched Jacklin move from neck to chest, his own breathing had decreased as he tried to continue an almost hidden presence. Beguiler. Wasn’t that the title they’d told him before coming here? From what he knew of the phrasing, or rumors at least, it seemed the elder human was fond of entertaining death. It was during these thoughts honey-eyes lifted, catching the back of Jacklin as she departed from the scene so suddenly. Reluctantly, for fear of return, he moved to where the assorted pieces of flesh and bone had been piled. No longer could he hold in a tense gasp at the sight below. Bones and flesh had been arranged in the shape of a child. Heart placed atop the picture just as it would have been in a natural body. Lids closed momentarily to take in the impact of what had just occurred. Legs took him slowly from the scene, never did he look again at the babe shaped from Charlie. No, Sapheul instead left to find the murderer he served so gladly and fiercely.


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