A boy and a wizard

[Peridan]

The darkness of the cell wrapped around him, the boy sat with his scythe on his knees. He was dressed in rags, dirty and bleeding a little. His scythe was no better for wear than its owner. Rusted, but somewhat still serviceable, it too was stained by blood. But the boy did not move. He stared at nothing. His world consisted of the ten by ten cell and his scythe. That was all.

He heard a clatter as the Boss walked down the stairs. The Boss was a big man, toughened by years of gang wars and battles in the darkest pit of the underworld. Scars ran across the Boss? body and head. One in particular had cut his cheek open, and looked like a crescent moon.

Of course, none of this really mattered to the boy, for he had not a single thought in his mind, except when the Boss told him to kill.

The Boss walked over to his cell and spat at the boy. ?You messed up, you worthless pile of trash. The police were able to determine the attack was made by that rusting piece of refuse you call a scythe at several of the previous target points. Now they know what to look for. If only you chose a different weapon once in a while?? The boy clutched his scythe unconsciously, but didn?t respond any other way.

?Yeah, whatever, you?re good. Not my problem if they catch you. You can?t speak any way, you stupid mute.? The Boss grinned at the boy. ?That ain?t the only reason I?m down here though. You?re gonna be sharing this luxurious suite with another under my employ.?

A tall, lean man walked down the dungeon steps, dressed in strange robes. The boy did not move, but he sniffed the air a few times and wrinkled his nose. The lean man was pale skinned, but with black hair and a short mustache. He stared at the boy, his eyes pitch black against the boy?s dulled gaze. He smiled then, his teeth unnaturally long, and far too many of them.

?He?s gonna make this his shop while he works for me. Makin? explosives and the like.? The boss eyed the lean man with an unfriendly stare. ?And you had better leave my little dog here alone; he?s an asset, just like you.? The lean man shrugged and grinned with that draconic smile.

The Boss started up the stairs. ?Get acquainted with each other.? As the Boss reached the door, he turned around.

?Oh, dog, meet Charun. Charun, Dog.? The door shut with a clank of finality.

[Gairun]

Well written Peridan.

[Mako]

Is the boy named cupcakes?

[Peridan]

Maybe =P

[Peridan]

*WARNING*

This is a disclaimer: The below material is for mature audiences only. It's kind of gory, and I don't want to scar anyone mentally. Thank you!








Sergeant Vilime was currently contemplating the repercussions of his options. Should he decide to stay on with the officers on duty tonight, or go home to an angry shrew of a woman who would only drive him deeper into his all too willing dive into alcoholism? He mused and pondered, and so failed to notice when a cloaked figure jumped lightly over the rooftops above the good sergeant.

The figure was dressed in tattered rags, and would have been easily dismissed as a beggar if not for the scythe larger than his body strapped to his back. The boy sat in silence, waiting for an opportunity to present itself as he calmly surveyed his target through a window.

His target was a priest of Talos who had recently decided to declare a tax on certain items imported to Waterdeep from other churches of the Storm god. These items were particularly hard to find anyway, and so the Boss decided that he didn?t need another money grubbing nobody interfering with his?business.

And so he sent the dog to do what he did best: taking care of the problem. Dog didn?t really care though. His mind was only filled with his master?s word to kill, and his awareness of the watcher always sent with him on missions to keep an eye on him.

But there was something else as well. He noticed it barely, on the edge of his consciousness. It was a desire to kill. A hunger that was like?.the mage that had recently moved into the dungeon with him. He had never desired anything, much less killing. It was simply something that he had to do. But he has been having bizarre dreams lately, dreams of the mage talking to him in some strange language?wait. There he is. The priest of Talos was praying at his deity?s altar.

The watcher made the signal with his hands that said ?time to move?. The dog nodded, and slicker than a shadow in oil, flew across the rooftop with barely a whisper. He unslung his scythe with a quiet *shink* and jumped through the churches stained glass window, landing on top of the altar with his scythe at the priests throat.

The Talosian only grinned. ?You think I was not aware of your master?s troubles? Please, I was expecting this, if only a test of destruction from my Lord.? Several other priests stepped from the shadows, their hands crackling with lightning.

Uncertain, the dog stopped moving, taking good accounting of his surroundings and his options. There were none. All of the exits were blocked off, except for the way he came though. And his watcher was just outside, turning to run. The head priest saw the movement and grinned. With a flick of his fingers, he sent a bolt of lightning after the watcher, striking him with the power of his god. The watcher was roasted for a lack of a better term, and the dog suddenly felt a cold finger of fear start to slide across his heart.

The Talosian smiled again, revealing a mouth full of decaying teeth. ?Time to die, little one.? The dog couldn?t move, couldn?t breathe with the fear that now had its entire talon around his lungs.

Come now, I taught you better than this. Where?s that killing intent I sensed in you?

The dog was aware of the mage?s presence then, and everything went dark.

When he woke, it was day. It was the first time he had seen the outside world during the day, and his eyes were blinded. He scrambled to find some shadow, and when he did, he saw the scene unfold in front of him. Bodies were everywhere. More precisely, parts of bodies where everywhere.

It had never bothered him before, but now he couldn?t help but become sick seeing a massacre in the direct sunlight. Flies circled about the bodies, landing all over the head priest?s decapitated corpse.

The dog was sick again, over and over until there was nothing left. His scythe was stabbed directly into the altar of Talos with a ray of sun shining directly onto it from the window he had crashed through, reflecting the red sheen of blood everywhere throughout the church.