Author Topic: The Daimon of Vorstadt  (Read 497 times)


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The Daimon of Vorstadt
« Topic Start: November 15, 2017, 07:05:00 PM »

The Daimon of Vorstadt

The noise of sneering cackle pierced through the frosty air of the night, as the three men stood ankle deep in snow, warming themselves by the campfire improvised from their torches. The shortest of the three protested against the mockery:

"Stop it, Bart! Stop it this instant! This is serious! I haven't seen Zefs and Marduk since yesterday, when the captain learns of this we will all wear nothing but tights all winter. And Sapon was supposed to be here with us but I haven't seen him since this morning."

"What do you know, fingerling?" - replied the tallest of the three - "The Daimon took them!" - and he exploded with laughter, slapping his other friend's chest in encouragement to join in on the mockery.

"What do you suggest happened to them?!" - the short guardsman demanded.
"They dragooned some moonshine out of the local peasantry and are piss drunk in the snow. Or they lead some tavern wenches astray. Or who knows what! But they were not taken by some kind of monster!" - the big guardsmen pushed the small one when he finished talking.

"Daimon!" - the small one exclaimed while falling.

"Yeah, whatever! Daimons don't even exist, they're just a story to scare the children. And even if they did, they would never come to Tamirak. Unless they like fat wenches and bitter popskull." - He cackled.
"What about Vorstadt?" - The middle of the guards enquired, breaking his silence.

"You shut your mouth" - Said the bigger guard, suddenly loosing his mocking grin and regaining all seriousness. The addressed warrior just raised his eyebrows and continued unphased:

"I don't know Bart. Armed men start disappearing in Vorstadt. Nearly two hundred of local militia in less than a week. The few of them that were ever found were found dismembered, drowned, eviscerated... you name it. Every gruesome death in the great library of gruesome deaths. Then, just as it all stops and people start to regain composure, the hordes come. Thousands of beasts and undead flood Toprak. Unlike anything anyone has ever seen. That widened my gaze a fair bit."

Just as Bart readied himself to channel the built-up anger to a loud and hostile riposte they all fell silent and grabbed their weapons when they noticed an onlooker listening in on the conversation just outside the circle of snow illuminated by their 'campfire'.

"Oh, please - don't stop on my account. I found your conversation very interesting and didn't want to interrupt you. Tell me of this Daimon of Vorstadt you talked about." - saying this the newcomer noticed something and started walking around, looking at the terrain attentively, dipping his hands and later entire arms in snow, not minding the armed men in the slightest. After a brief while he stopped and started thumping his foot on the ground. About the same moment the bigger of the guards took the measure of the newcommer and finding him not much of a threat he asked with regained confidence:

"And who are you, loony? What are you doing here?" - receiving no answer other than silence and stomping he shouted angrily - "Answer me! Or answer me this - have you ever had a spear up your arse? And why on the Maddening are you stomping, you weirdo?!"

The stranger stopped and turned to the tall guard:

"Oh, my stomping is none of your concern... no, wait, not true. My stomping is the biggest of your concerns right now, you see Bartholomew? Bart is short for Bartholomew, right?" - he waved his hand in air as if trying to disperse the last question  - "It does not matter. You see, I have been trying to unearth this snowbound bear cave and wake the beast."
"What bear cave?" - asked the big guard, while the other two backed one step away.

The stanger just thumped his leg on the ground once more, with all the power he had, and through the loud, terrifying roar and panicked screams his calm answer could barely be heard - "This one."

Seeing the legless torso of Barholomew breathing out the last bits of his life with surprised expression on his face, demanding explanation of the past few seconds, the stranger turned his gaze to the bear ripping through the remaining two guards and with a satisfied smile he waved Bartholomew his goodbye, before disappearing into the night.
New family - Arnickles Renodin: Maura(OS), Myr(LN)
Old family - The (dead) Bennets: Max(SF), Joran(VT), Jarra(OS)