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Darwin Dakros had assumed many different forms, many different guises in his time hiding out from the law. He had lived in the Second Wind, and even had lived within Sundren City itself, carrying several different sets of papers each for a different identity.
One of the identities that Darwin had assumed during his weeks coming back and forth was a man by the name of Bolivar Gray. "Old Bo" as he was known around Jimmy's Dice Den.
Bo came to Jimmy's looking for a job. Bouncer positions were full, however, so old Bo got a job upstairs working in the more shady parts of Jimmy's establishment. The job he had seen fit to fill for a few coins in his pocket was that of a Barber. He'd had experience as a barber during his time as a conscript for the Zhentarim army. Of course, all of the haircuts he did while in the army were uniform, so if one was looking for Style then Old Bo was the last person one would go to. But if you wanted something manageable...and more importantly cheap...Old Bo was your guy.
Sitting back his barber chair the man prepared for his next client. As he waited patiently, scheming dark schemes, he heard a horrible commotion down the hall.
"Filthy whore!" shouted a gruff voice, followed by the sound of a slap, and then the echo of crying filled the halls of this house of ill-repute. It was expected. This was a gutter brothel, after all. A place where women too poor to provide for themselves and their family sold themselves as pieces of meat at auction, performing acts of depravity that only the most wicked and sinister would ever consider.
This, of course, meant that Darwin felt right at home!!
As the man entered "Old Bo's" barber shop he sat down in the chair, looking the man over with an appraising glare. As "Bo" smiled at the man, lifting his sheers off of the counter he calmly asked the man "So, good chum, what will it be?"
"A little off the top.." replied the fat oaf of a noblemen. Darwin had seen this type before. The type of man he hated the most. Ones who felt entitled, that their money and their influence put them above reproach, above the law, above judgement.
Darwin was beyond evil. He had absorbed the soul of a Forest Spirit as it lay dying. He had tasted the flesh of his enemies, and made a meal of them as they lie screaming in agony, still alive. But there was one thing that set Darwin apart from the animals he so often changed into. He had standards. Striking a defenseless woman was low, far too low for this proud Predator among Men. It nature it was the duty of the Alpha Male to protect the females, to insure that they lived comfortably and long so that they could propagate and insure the species' survival. Indeed, in Nature, there was only one who could challenge the authority of the Alpha Male and avoid his scorn. And that was his Queen.
"A little off the top it is...." grinned the malicious Malarite as he sharpened his shears upon the leather jerkin that lie strapped to the arm of his chair. He licked his chops, watching the fat noblemen lie back in his chair, blissfully unaware of the grisly fate that awaited him with certain inevitability.
"And while you're at it....a shave." said the noble, as he tossed a few measly silver into the barber's tip jar. The clanking of the metal upon metal reminded Darwin of the sweet sounds that were made when he had assumed Dragon Shape and tore through the chain shirts of the men he had devoured with such vigor.
"Oh, most certainly." said "Old Bo", tying a towel around the noble's neck to catch the lather that would inevitably fall from his neck. As he leaned in to tie it, he stopped for a moment to catch a sniff of him. The tantalizing aroma of what was soon to be his dinner. The food of Man had long since failed to satisfy his hunger. He needed MEAT. He needed FLESH to satiate his avarice. And more importantly: He needed it fresh.
"For you, M'Lord" said the Barber as he began to run his razor down the side of the man's temples, trimming his sideburns. "For you, M'Lord, it will be the closest that I ever gave....heh heh heh..."
What happened next was far too grisly to describe with mere words. But one thing was certainly true: That night Darwin Dakros would be eating well. One less fat, self-entitled noble to soil the streets and beat upon innocent women. Just another body. Just another meal. Noone to miss him. Noone to mourn for him. Just one less piece of garbage that civilization had produced.
The Predator's avarice satisfied he retired to his room for the evening, laying back upon his warm bed with a satisfied smile. Never again would that woman be troubled by her abusive tormentor. Never again would she have to humiliate herself for him for his amusement.
"I did a good thing." said the metamorph, wiping a bit of trickling blood from his cheek. "And besides....who am I kidding?"
"...this ((bleep)) is just fun. Ah HAHAHAHAHA!!!"
One of the identities that Darwin had assumed during his weeks coming back and forth was a man by the name of Bolivar Gray. "Old Bo" as he was known around Jimmy's Dice Den.
Bo came to Jimmy's looking for a job. Bouncer positions were full, however, so old Bo got a job upstairs working in the more shady parts of Jimmy's establishment. The job he had seen fit to fill for a few coins in his pocket was that of a Barber. He'd had experience as a barber during his time as a conscript for the Zhentarim army. Of course, all of the haircuts he did while in the army were uniform, so if one was looking for Style then Old Bo was the last person one would go to. But if you wanted something manageable...and more importantly cheap...Old Bo was your guy.
Sitting back his barber chair the man prepared for his next client. As he waited patiently, scheming dark schemes, he heard a horrible commotion down the hall.
"Filthy whore!" shouted a gruff voice, followed by the sound of a slap, and then the echo of crying filled the halls of this house of ill-repute. It was expected. This was a gutter brothel, after all. A place where women too poor to provide for themselves and their family sold themselves as pieces of meat at auction, performing acts of depravity that only the most wicked and sinister would ever consider.
This, of course, meant that Darwin felt right at home!!
As the man entered "Old Bo's" barber shop he sat down in the chair, looking the man over with an appraising glare. As "Bo" smiled at the man, lifting his sheers off of the counter he calmly asked the man "So, good chum, what will it be?"
"A little off the top.." replied the fat oaf of a noblemen. Darwin had seen this type before. The type of man he hated the most. Ones who felt entitled, that their money and their influence put them above reproach, above the law, above judgement.
Darwin was beyond evil. He had absorbed the soul of a Forest Spirit as it lay dying. He had tasted the flesh of his enemies, and made a meal of them as they lie screaming in agony, still alive. But there was one thing that set Darwin apart from the animals he so often changed into. He had standards. Striking a defenseless woman was low, far too low for this proud Predator among Men. It nature it was the duty of the Alpha Male to protect the females, to insure that they lived comfortably and long so that they could propagate and insure the species' survival. Indeed, in Nature, there was only one who could challenge the authority of the Alpha Male and avoid his scorn. And that was his Queen.
"A little off the top it is...." grinned the malicious Malarite as he sharpened his shears upon the leather jerkin that lie strapped to the arm of his chair. He licked his chops, watching the fat noblemen lie back in his chair, blissfully unaware of the grisly fate that awaited him with certain inevitability.
"And while you're at it....a shave." said the noble, as he tossed a few measly silver into the barber's tip jar. The clanking of the metal upon metal reminded Darwin of the sweet sounds that were made when he had assumed Dragon Shape and tore through the chain shirts of the men he had devoured with such vigor.
"Oh, most certainly." said "Old Bo", tying a towel around the noble's neck to catch the lather that would inevitably fall from his neck. As he leaned in to tie it, he stopped for a moment to catch a sniff of him. The tantalizing aroma of what was soon to be his dinner. The food of Man had long since failed to satisfy his hunger. He needed MEAT. He needed FLESH to satiate his avarice. And more importantly: He needed it fresh.
"For you, M'Lord" said the Barber as he began to run his razor down the side of the man's temples, trimming his sideburns. "For you, M'Lord, it will be the closest that I ever gave....heh heh heh..."
What happened next was far too grisly to describe with mere words. But one thing was certainly true: That night Darwin Dakros would be eating well. One less fat, self-entitled noble to soil the streets and beat upon innocent women. Just another body. Just another meal. Noone to miss him. Noone to mourn for him. Just one less piece of garbage that civilization had produced.
The Predator's avarice satisfied he retired to his room for the evening, laying back upon his warm bed with a satisfied smile. Never again would that woman be troubled by her abusive tormentor. Never again would she have to humiliate herself for him for his amusement.
"I did a good thing." said the metamorph, wiping a bit of trickling blood from his cheek. "And besides....who am I kidding?"
"...this ((bleep)) is just fun. Ah HAHAHAHAHA!!!"