by Bisharp Sun Aug 19, 2012 1:20 pm
In the storms rushing around the village of Agate concealed the deadly force within it's shadows well, just a pair of shining eyes through the dark. The Bisharp moved with a sloppy limp, one of his legs dragging loudly against the ground, sparks being thrown up into the air from the metal's contact, only to be exstinguihed by the rain pelting the ground around him. The rust licking at the many edges of his armor only intensified the illusion, making him seem like wary traveler of Orre. Trying to survive just like anyone else.
The loud clomping of equine foot steps brought him to attention. The Bisharp haulted in his gait, only allowing his eyes to flicker in the direction of the sounds. The storm thundered on above him, but the Harbinger was as silent and still like he were Death himself. Then the offender came into veiw, a very proper looking Sawsbuck. The deer's eyes widened as it laied eyes upon the duel type. "You there! Need help?" he called out. Still, the steel man did not reply, only moving his head ever so slightly to meet the buck's eyes. The former's brown gaze lit up then, taking in the Bisharp with new eyes. "Y... you're not okay, are you?" He trotted forward boldly, haulting a few feet from the Bisharp. "You can come with me- my friends are down by the river. We can help you."
The infected humanoid turned again, his body still but his head now completely facing the buck. His crimson eyes flashed, an unnatural light lighting up the area for only a heart beat brighter than the lightning overhead. The idiotic equine seemed to finally realize his mistake, his face dawning with horror, but the Bisharp was moving before he even had the chance to blink. With a single lunge forward, the Harbinger slashed out with one arm, the head of the Sawsbuck falling to the ground with a wet plop. Bisharp did not move for several seconds, not even bothering to watch as the decapitated body fell to the ground in the opposite way of the head.
For the first time, emotion pulled at the expression of the Harbinger as a sick grin flashed across his face.
Then he stood up to his full six feet, no longer faking the limp as he walked with grace in the direction the buck had indicated earlier. "Let us see if your friends are worthy of being saved as well ...or if they are not."
It was easy enough to find the group, cradled around the river that ran so swiftly in the storm. His face hardened once more, Bisharp took in how they all were so pitifully oblivious. Not even awear of the death of their so-called friend nor of the danger that snuck just along their midst. His eyes dimmed slightly, leaving him well hidden with the dark of the midnight shadows as well as the storm. But even then he knew his prize. A child, nestled in the grip of the Froslass. The Zorua whom was slipping in and out of the waking world.
He would be dead soon anyway, so why not just take him now?
With the sadistic thought, the Harbinder took a step, purposely dragging one leg along the ground as he had earlier, making sparks fly up into the air only to be smothered by the rain. But the effect was done. The group of living noticed, suddenly on alert as he approached from several meters away. A few more feet, few more seconds ...and he did it again, tossing embers into the air only to die out from the water. He did it exactly three more times, the last two meters from the group. Then he vanished into the dark. While the fools scrambled to find out who and what he was, Bisharp moved in the cloak of night.
Footsteps careful and precise, the Harbinger approached the Froslass and his prize without even having to worry about being spotted. However, then he was right in the middle of their group, having moved too fast for their eyes to follow. Staring down at all of the idiots with his hardened gaze, he stopped at the duel type and the baby fox. His face flashed a siich grin when he reached down and snatched up the mutt by the fur on his head, so fast he was unable to bee seen until he straightened back up with the Zorua in hand. The child was awake then, suddenly crying out in pain and screaming in horror. "Help me! Ahhhh! Don't let him take me!"
Bisharp easily dodged the futile attacks of the others in the group, appearing to do so at almost a leisurely manner. The harbinger reached up with his other hand, gripping the fox's tail. With a savage rip, he tore the fluffly limb right off, tossing the tail off to the side at one of the 'survivors'. Still the group tried to fight back, but he was no match for them. Holding the screaming child, his eyes flashed down at the others. "The child is mine ...as was that dumb buck. Good luck finding his ...head." Allowing another grin to slice across his face, the Bisharp then made his leave.
Jumping right into the air, he landed several feet away from the group, taking the chance to finish off the Zorua. Right in the full veiw of the group, he sliced upwards with his other arm, digging his natural blade right into the child's heart. The cries of help and pity gave way to garrggled flails as he died within seconds, the light leaving his eyes as he lost the fight. Bisharp walked away slowly from the others, holding the bleeding, tailless Zorua for his meal as lightning illuminated the village around him.