Author Topic: The Carefree Adventures of Asher Renodin  (Read 9788 times)

Renodin

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Re: The Carefree Adventures of Asher Renodin
« Topic Start: September 25, 2017, 06:52:11 PM »
Hey there, welcome back. Now, if the next rp is a bit raw. I say raw because it may not be a very pleasant depiction you may read about. If this sort of thing could upset you I suggest you don't read it. Nothing elicit or anything, just, maybe a bit disturbing and most certainly unfriendly. With that said, it is a piece of writing and potentially, plausible given the situation.


Brutalized

The day had started once again. Smoke rose from a thousand different places all across the huge city of Oligarch. Perhaps half from actual hearths but the rest were borne from malice. Riding through the winding streets Asher's face was covered with a bordeaux scarf. The fabric coming from the good people Gadlock, swamp linnen. A haze of smoke escaped a crumpled building. Slithering past some exposed support beams and engulfing a section of the street. Not quite obscuring the view entirely but certainly cladding passers by in a gauzelike cloak that stung the eyes and beckoned forth tears.

The same could be said for the soldiers that strode through the main boulevard. People were being dragged from their homes, their bodies bruised as angry hands forced them to comply. Strung up along the buildings where roof ornaments where being used as makeshift gallows. Long reed canes used as whips that cut their flesh and left a patchwork of red lines on their raw skin. Asher eyed it as he passed by, not saying a word. A young woman, someone's daughter, was dragged across the streets from her family home. An older man, presumably her father, begged the soldiers to spare her. His balding head a little chubby but only because life had been good to him in the past. His wife clutching the doorframe she stood in. Nails burrowing deep. Falling to his knees, the father wept as his voice broke into a besieging screech. One of the soldiers got annoyed and turned around. Deftly fishing a dagger from its sheath and grasping it firmly in his hand. Before the balding father knew what had happened he was reaching for his throat and gurgled a few more words. His hands tried furiously but could only make a defunct dam and blood gushed through the gaps. Despite the fact that his life was literally slipping through his fingers, he never took his eyes off his daughter.

She had been dragged to the center of the street and now the soldiers had formed a ring around her. Each taking turns in ripping clothing from her fair body. Pushing her around and each time she was shoved into the arms of yet another malicious man, more hands groped her, did her pain, beat her, felt nails scratch her body and eventually, when lust turned to frustration in the soldiers, they beat her again. This time with vigor. They wanted to brutalize her but those orders hadn't been given. As the fair maiden fell to the ground, her body only nominally clad, the skin on her knees broke with the impact. Army boots, the kind that were reinforced and armored, found her body and kicked her without remorse. One particular fat soldier, his mouth frothing as his beady little eyes roved over her exposed body, viciously kicked her in the mouth. The entire tip of his boot vanishing in the action. The corners of her mouth ripped, blood exploded from where her front teeth used to be and what came next from her mouth was a quiet, anguished noise that could not be described with words.

Not waiting for what would come next, Asher looked away and urged his mount on.