Dubhaine Family/Aoifa/Roleplays/2020/August
| Dubhaine Family | |
| Fame | 40 |
| Wealth | 19485 |
| Home Region | Ashforth |
| Home World | East Continent |
5th August
Summer Evening - Dark Citadel
Rakaarox Nabarl
Content Warning: Violence, Other Graphic Content (violence, other, Spoilers)
A crowd had gathered (almost) below the hole in the wall of the Chairthing’s tower office (only almost below as they knew quite often things would come flying out of it that weren’t designed to fly and so would quickly plummet to the cobbles beneath).
...anyway... the crowd had gathered as there was a commotion of some sort going on up there (which again wasn’t something new, and was usually entertaining, but it was different somehow, and the people picked up on this and wanted to be there to witness it).
As they waited, quiet conversation and gesticulation going on amongst them, the first scribe of the night was heard to mutter “damnit” shortly before his swift flight and bone crunching (and cracking (and creaking (and shattering))) landing emphasised with a quite impressive meaty thudding landed him in the D4 and E5 grid positions that the bookmakers drew out each day.
”...and the head stops in... H9 No winners! Purse will roll over, minus commission, to the next landing! Place your bets!”
Someone was heard whispering “what’s “H9”? Isn’t it guillotine baby?”
Another bit of noise from above and a shower of torn papers softly spiralled and fluttered and flirted and flapped their way all around the square, followed shortly thereafter by a few part chewed bricks.
On seeing the bricks a number of the older peasants looked taken aback and some of their chatter got louder:
”He’s eating the bricks again?!”
”Remember what happened last time!?”
”The Abyss! Look at the timing! It matches!”
”At least those Giblets aren’t around any more!”
”Nor Zyzyx... Dark times, and not Abyss Dark times!”
”This could be tomorrow?”
”What’s he going to do this time?”
Their ever incredulating conversations were interrupted as the bookmakers called bets for the next head landing position.
Another muttering “so much for that career choice” before the next shadow appeared far above, flapping its arms as it it thought that might help before seeming to shrug, wave to someone in the crowd, then aim themselves towards the grid.
After rather similar disturbing sounds as the last time (though a sharper crack and more squelching) the bookmaker called out “C3! A perfect landing with everything, apart from the splatters, in the one square. A jackpot is being won by the lady in the... erm... dirty and falling apart brownish dress? Congratulations madam!”
”Thank you Bert my son. You did promise to aim for that one if you ever found yourself in position...”
The bookmaker scowled a little and muttered about needing to change the rules a little.
A few more bricks rained down, along with a large cloud of brick dust that drifted from the hole to give a gentle powdering to the every road and building close to the tower. Then a collective gasp of shock went up from the entire crowd as the rickety chair shattered on the ground in front of them.
There were flickers from the hole now, as if a large fire were burning, but no more sounds. Shortly afterwards a figure walked out of the door and pulled a hood over its head before slinging a bag over its shoulder and heading out of the city...
