RP:Vuryal Begins Vendetta
Background
This is part of Vuryal's Vendetta story arc.
The Timelord Vuryal, after condemning Gruz' soul to hell and proclaiming Vendetta on those who had liberated Rynvale, delivers an ultimatum. Those on his list are to be brought to him, or innocent lives would replace them each day: starting with the Lycan cub Niawtu
The Vendetta Begins
Vuryal erupts into the tavern, his crimson gaze flowing upon the patrons with red hot malice and death. "Death has arrived, peasants," he bellows in his other-worldly voice, the tone rattling the very walls of the tavern as he slowly makes his way outside. His steps are light, if one could even call them that as he more floats across the room, taking strides more for show than for effort.
A hideous roar erupts as the Parasite of Lithyrdel calls forth the souls of those generals that failed him*
Vuryal shouts, “For failing to defeat the pathetic forces of the Fold and their allies, you failures have been sentenced to hell!”
Vuryal pushes forth his staff, the dead soul of Gruz, former warchief of the Gamorgian tribes. His tortured soul appears upon the gallows, the fiend directly behind him. "To hell with you, Gruz, you incompetent bastard, not worthy enough to lick the horse manure from my boot!" The chronomancer pushes the ogre into the abyss below, no rope visible. Instead, the gallow's hole is a direct line to the depths of hell, the poor soul disappearing forever to be feasted on by worms and burnt upon the altars for all eternity.
Vuryal peers out amongst the crowd, his eyes scanning the ones here, a cruel smirk coming upon his weathered, emotionless face as he catches sight of some of the "list" in attendance.
Niawtu wanders into Kelay Way, hiding more so in the shadows. Her large bright icy silver eyes look about the crowd in utter confusion. The ten year old child hides behind a tree with the hood of a black cloak over her head, hiding her features further.
Vuryal says, “Those with the black rose will be next. I offer substantial wealth to those that bring me the head, limb, or remains of those that are enemies of Archmosia. Ten thousand gold per head. Five thousand per limb. Anyone may claim the prize.”
Amarkos says to Vuryal, “And if we bring them in alive? “
Vuryal grins at Amarkos's words. "Twenty thousand."
Vuryal says, “There will be one execution a day until Hell has had its fill. If there are no traitors to Archmosia available, I will take it out on the populace of this land. I care not, for my vendetta will rape this land until I have my fill.”
Niawtu pulls down her hood as she is listening, the child's eyes filled with fear and frost falling forth from her. Her pure white hair would glisten within the shadows as she looks upon Vuryal with fear, and then to the gallows, and back.
Vuryal scans the crowd before leveling his staff towards Niawtu. "Tomorrow, this child dies if she does not have someone to take her place." And with that, the fiend disappears in a black flame that envelopes his entire being.
Cornelius says to Vuryal "Will a list be published of those whose deaths are most immediately sought? Something to take out the guesswork, as it were?"
Vuryal says, “The list will be posted this eve...”
Tysinni decides to remain quiet and unobtrusive. Clearly, this was someone whom should not be messed with. The thief slouches further into the wall, a grim expression on her face. It was clear danger was afoot. Her gaze follows the direction of Vuryal's pointing, a small gasp leaving her as she realizes who he had singled out. "Nia..." Quickly, she starts to push her way through the crowd to the girl.
Veriun had observed Vuryal to the very end of the display when the Chronomancer dissapeared. Unlike some others, His gaze had not faltered since the interruption of the bird. He had the general mannerism of a scholar or a writer who was making a detailed observance of a research subject or the subject of ones upcoming text or historical record. He showed neither fear, approval or disgust. Only interest.
Niawtu notices nothing, her eyes are still staring at where Vuryal had been, his words ringing in her young ears. She hardly even appears to be breathing. Her icy body temperture plummeting until the grass around her bare feet would whither and die.