The Face of Death.

[jacktim]

Sonoriel, the fallen, had been dragging himself about as of late. His midnight rants and sneakings about the town becoming more habitual, and less fun. Even the random killings of those few vagrants on the outskirts of the forest had become even less than appealing of late, their sacrifice to pagan gods to fuel whatever dark arts he has access to. Upon his entrance back into the town proper, he caught sight of the bard, turned blacksmith, Sabrion... plotting his next victim's demise. He stalked the unawares bard back into the center of town proper before he was halted by the town guard, the bard escaping undetected.
"Fools! The never-ending impetulance of your primitive minds forever entices me to lay waste to your pitiful existances!" He began to rant. The guards only smiled at him, "That may be so... but you're out after curfew. Mister... er?"
"Sonoriel, the fallen? Slayer of thousands, The most empowered mind within a thousand miles of this speck of woodgrain? Does this not ring any bells?", His patience beginning to wear thin.
"Well... perhaps the most empowered mind would have known to read the curfew signs posted around town... after dark, no one is permitted inside the town limits," the second guard spoke up, a confident glare passing from him to Sonoriel. "Signs? Curfew... human, tell me... what stupidity is flowing from your ignorant face?", Sonoriel soon found his great distaste for living things. The guard simply pointed behind the fallen one, to a wooden sign hung upon a quiet shop.

"By the hand of the Council of Defense, headed by the General Eriks deMord Sleipner:
an anouncement and heartfelt apology.

Due to outside - and inside - threats to Myrkenwood, it is with deepest regret that the town's safety be bolstered and made more certain against any who would Threaten Her People.

Entrance in and out of the city shall hereby be heavily monitored, and a Cerfew is to be instated for the times between nightfall and daybreak. Houses of Pleasure and Drink may remain open during these hours, but shall not accept nor turn out any persons during that time, and Medical Emergencies shall not be penalized.

Any complaints of business lost due to these changes may be made, judged, and will be reembursed if the cause is found fair.

May Myrken ever prosper, and her Enemies and Tormentors be Crushed.

- 'General' Eriks"

And several small copies of such hanging around on posts, doors, and walls could be found most anywhere within (and without) the town. "I think the slayer of thousands deserves to spend a night in the Gaol... perhaps then he'll understand that we are only here to protect... him." The guard sneered. "Don't you patronize me!" He began to yell, poking the guard in the chest....

Hours later, Sonoriel lay in one of the cages in the lower portions of the Gaol, bound and gagged, thinking to himself. "Outwitted, by halfwits. I will have to reanimate their corpses if I'm to draw a sufficient punishement for them... Perhaps their fears will buy me some spot of entertainment here..."

He then began to attune his mind to skimming the uppermost layers of their thoughts. A hefty task for anyone... this power became one of the most powerful weapons of his arsenal. Although we was limited to the most prevalent thoughts on a person's mind, devoid of instinct, and inhibition, these often proved to be more than enough to hang someone with. Five guards sat about playing games, chatting, he moved back and forth between them, until he came across a particular gem of info. "I wonder who'll be the next executioner... Old Jerrard Millnut passed on... Morbid old codger... but he never gave us any grief... The council will have a hard time replacing ol' Jerry."

"An executioner eh? Money for killing? Perhaps a chance to torture and sacrifice... Oh... Myrkentown... you are my new home." A deep chortle started in the weird man, stifled entirely by the gag in his mouth. He would soon unleash his wrath, untethered by the guards and the law... death upon swift wings for those unfortunate to fall into his web... While his meglamanaical machinations on how this occupation would work might be far more fantastic and assumptive than what the job had to offer... at least he would make a killing... literally.

[jacktim]

Perhaps the execution of Larken was a bit short notice for Sonoriel, perhaps he could have taken a longer and more maniacal method of killing that creature, but either way, here he sat. The bottom levels of the Gaol, Sonoriel sat and waited for some poor unfortunate prey to become part of his game. His mind so riddled with boredom he could barely stay awake, even the stray thoughts of convicts and guards did not entertain Sonoriel.

"When do I get to kill somebody?" Sonoriel said aloud to the empty cells and halls of this particular level. He was getting impatient, he was getting angry, he getting the bloodlust.

[jacktim]

After his completely pointless and bloody display at the 'Dagger Sonoriel was not finished with his days work. He set out with a bundle on his back, and a bowl of rabbit stew in his hands. He made a short stop by the Blue Bard Sabrion's Shop and deposited his bag of possibly mangled rabbit fur. The only other momento of his killing spree was the remnants of a crushed rabbit skull in his top left pocket. An item that gave him much glee whenever he thought about breaking the poor, defenseless animal's skull in his bare hands. Indeed Sonoriel was a sick individual.

A few hours later the bag was to be located by said bard, and a many retching allowed him to drag it inside, "YE GODS! THIS SMELLS AWFUL!"

[jacktim]

The droll had settled, the on edge attitudes of many the citizen was beginning to dull. Sonoriel had slept these past few weeks in the bottom of the Gaol, next to a cell with blood splatterings in it. The only killing he had found time to complete was with the cell rats. While ending mortal lives always found a kick with the executioner... this was hardly his idea of "fun".

"Where is a mass murderer when you need one?" he asked and then stared back in towards the cell... "Oh... that's right... I killed him already..." Perhaps it would come a time to retire the old battle axe, and let Malice have her day in the sunlight again...