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There was a singe, followed by a scream; but there were none there to hear it. None that would bear even a sliver of sympathy. There was another singe, and another scream, and that was when the whimpering began. As Kildo removed the white-hot utensil from the mouth of the broken man, the three associates stood back to admire their work.
It was a combination of the constant insults and the outright slander that brought this man to be bound and bled, and it was a lack of remorse or pity on the part of Pyras that would kill him. He was also to be an instrument in the construction of a new tool - a vicious one. With a quick nod to Lauan, and then to Kildo, the Red Wizard released a sigh of satisfaction as they stood over the helpless, cowering man.
Veront had always been one to run his mouth, and so a hammer was taken to it. He was quick to kick and flail as the procedure proceeded, and so his feet were cut to leave the muscles limp and useless. He was persistent with his attempts to tamper with his bonds, and so his fingers had their determination removed, or rather, his fingers were removed altogether. And still, the insufferable, pathetic, fragment of a man would gurgle through the blood that trickled both up and down his throat, spewing forth senseless profanities all the while. He was nearly incoherent, but the fact that the man could possess any willingness to even open his mouth was displeasing. The resolution to this displeasure is one best left never mentioned nor remembered.
As one ounce of blood too many poured from Veront's maimed body, his final breath escaped him. But even then, the manner in which he died would not satisfy the vengeful Red Wizard. Before the hideous remnants of the victim could even settle into rest, they were manipulated into becoming not but another outlet for revenge. As Pyras directed his hand towards the dead man, the word 'dead' became less and less fitting of a description. As Veront climbed to his feet in a helpless stance of undead servitude, there were so many things left racing through the Red Wizard's mind. Thoughts of spells he would have so enjoyed to cast had the man not died so easily, and so pitifully - convincing the fool that his flesh fell from his body, or his organs falling from his wrenched gut; spells that were now futile, leaving no more room for creativity.
There was a blast, followed by a crack, followed by an eerie silence. For all the spells left unused, there was at least one that could alleviate some of the Red Wizard's rage. The bolt of lightning arched from his fingertips and collided with the undead remains of the butchered carcass, smiting it back to the ground from which it had risen only moments before. If there was no more creativity to be seen in the use of magic, then it would have to take place in the use of tormenting manipulation. With that thought in mind, the three associates had the befouled body transported to the Temple of Helm to be cleansed and raised. Manipulation is for the living, and so Veront would be brought back; back to an unforgiving world that would see him bent and contorted to the will of the sadistic Red Wizard. A life of begrudging servitude.
It was a combination of the constant insults and the outright slander that brought this man to be bound and bled, and it was a lack of remorse or pity on the part of Pyras that would kill him. He was also to be an instrument in the construction of a new tool - a vicious one. With a quick nod to Lauan, and then to Kildo, the Red Wizard released a sigh of satisfaction as they stood over the helpless, cowering man.
Veront had always been one to run his mouth, and so a hammer was taken to it. He was quick to kick and flail as the procedure proceeded, and so his feet were cut to leave the muscles limp and useless. He was persistent with his attempts to tamper with his bonds, and so his fingers had their determination removed, or rather, his fingers were removed altogether. And still, the insufferable, pathetic, fragment of a man would gurgle through the blood that trickled both up and down his throat, spewing forth senseless profanities all the while. He was nearly incoherent, but the fact that the man could possess any willingness to even open his mouth was displeasing. The resolution to this displeasure is one best left never mentioned nor remembered.
As one ounce of blood too many poured from Veront's maimed body, his final breath escaped him. But even then, the manner in which he died would not satisfy the vengeful Red Wizard. Before the hideous remnants of the victim could even settle into rest, they were manipulated into becoming not but another outlet for revenge. As Pyras directed his hand towards the dead man, the word 'dead' became less and less fitting of a description. As Veront climbed to his feet in a helpless stance of undead servitude, there were so many things left racing through the Red Wizard's mind. Thoughts of spells he would have so enjoyed to cast had the man not died so easily, and so pitifully - convincing the fool that his flesh fell from his body, or his organs falling from his wrenched gut; spells that were now futile, leaving no more room for creativity.
There was a blast, followed by a crack, followed by an eerie silence. For all the spells left unused, there was at least one that could alleviate some of the Red Wizard's rage. The bolt of lightning arched from his fingertips and collided with the undead remains of the butchered carcass, smiting it back to the ground from which it had risen only moments before. If there was no more creativity to be seen in the use of magic, then it would have to take place in the use of tormenting manipulation. With that thought in mind, the three associates had the befouled body transported to the Temple of Helm to be cleansed and raised. Manipulation is for the living, and so Veront would be brought back; back to an unforgiving world that would see him bent and contorted to the will of the sadistic Red Wizard. A life of begrudging servitude.
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