Mrah &crLuum &cL- &cGVi&cgb&cGr&cga&cGt&Cgi&cGon&cL of &crDeath&N
As I chase the fading trail of this wounded elf, the metallic scent of blood draws me onward,
despite my exhaustion. I can feel my prey weakening. He no longer bothers trying to conceal his trail.
He is panicking, overwhelmed by no thought but flight. I double my pace, trying to close the distance
between us. He must not find sanctuary! I left my horde long ago, in pursuit of honor and glory! Of
course this wretched elf would not know of such things! He flees across the lands, desperately avoiding
the ending of this already finished battle. Only a child of Corellon would be so cowardly!
Roaring my rage into the endless night sky, I charge down another grassy hill and into another
sparse but wildly overgrown patch of woods. It seems like I have been crossing sparsely wooded hilly
plains forever. Has it been a fortnight? Looking at the sky, I think the eye of the Night Lord has been
lidded for too many nights. My exhaustion must be wearing on my mind. This will have to end soon.
Where is that wretched elf! Just then, I realize the scent of my prey is not ahead of me at all. In fact
I can not seem to tell which direction it’s in! It is definitely here, all around me, as strong a smell as a
goblin in heat. A bit too strong...
I find my breeches snagged by a thorny bush. Just then, the wild overgrowth thickens even more.
Vines start growing out of the ground, twisting around my feet, reaching for my limbs, trying to drag me
down. Reacting with the reflexes of one who has played the brutal childhood games of an orc, immediately
my knife is in my hand and I begin freeing myself from this malicious plantlife.
I have almost regained my freedom, when my ears hear a rapid “thwip thwip thwip” sound. Screaming in pain,
I look down to see an arrow sticking out of my shoulder and two more in a tree to my left. Scanning for my
cowardly attacker, I break the end of the arrow off in my flesh. Fueled by the power of rage and pain, I
break free of the remaining plants that cling to me, and charge toward where the arrows came from.
The elf throws down his bow, frantically trying to flee. An elf could have lie in hiding in these woods, evading
me for a long time. But without the nerves of a true hunter, this one would not even attempt such trickery
with the stakes as they are. No, he flees clumsily, leaving an obvious trail as he tears a path through the
thicket. The wild overgrowth slows my pursuit as I chop my way through it. My rage thins, as my weeks
of pursuit demand their price on my body.
Eventually I begin to slow, thinking over my plan of attack. I begin to doubt that I will be able to overcome
the plants if the fey brat turns them against me again. My enemy has expanded the rules of this battle with
his trickery and I will not hesitate to use my own powers. Pulling out the twisting bone horn that is my right
of adulthood, I still my mind, preparing myself to summon the wrath of my dark lord. Murmuring a prayer to
Shargaas, I glance at the night sky. A deep crooning dissonance fills my world. My mind becomes more and
more focused on the killing that is impending. The world falls away around me, leaving me smothered in a fuzzy,
vibratory state of mind. Quickening suddenly, all becomes cold darkness. Foggy mists have filled the area,
making everything dim. Stirring slightly, I realize that I have been staring at a ruddy skull apparition on the
face of the crescent moon. How long have I been lost in this unholy reverie? I pull the horn from my lips,
and the thickly groaning call of my instrument falls suddenly silent. As the sound of my horn falls away,
I feel myself falling in my mind, no longer coddled by the song. Falling away, spinning down, into unconsciousness.
I awaken in the morning, covered in dried leaves and dew. Glancing frantically around me,
I lay out in the open, in a wide field of ash and rotten plants. Pulling myself to my feet,
I tighten my loosened gear back into place, and begin surveying the area. The last I remember,
I was in a thickly overgrown area of woods. Yet, this field seems to have been bereft of life
for a long time. As I am puzzling over what in the abyss happened to me last night, I stub
my toe on a rock under some rotten vines and fall flat on my face. Pulling myself to my feet,
I aim a kick at it. Suddenly I notice that its not a rock at all. Its an old skull! Digging the
skull out of the ground, I turn it over in my hands. An elven skull! This was my enemy, who
fled like a coward from an honorable death! As full understanding of what my call to my
dark liege, Shargaas summoned. I drop to my knees. Overwhelmed, my eyes tear up as
I give thanks to the Night Lord and his gift, the Vibration of Death.
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