Blowing Air On Fire

[*Midnight]

//I am having some computer trouble and cannot get in game. I think I know how to fix it but doubt I will be on tonight. I am free later this week however so will try to catch you then.

[*Midnight]

//How does early afternoon GMT on Sunday sound? Will squeeze it in before LD's event.

[*Krayt]

((That's a good time that.

[*Krayt]

Returning to the Temple of the abyss after his successful delivery he was granted a hiding hole. It was little more than that. A discarded torturechamber to judge by the apperance. Various chains dangled from the cealing like a spiderweb. The stench of long molded pools of coaguated blood filled the dank room. The warlock tossed himself into the bed put in a corner. The sheets dirty and wet. He put his hands behind his neck staring up in the darkness above. Two Mercikillers had interfered attacking him as they saw the dead man as his feet. But they knew it was him before that. Had someone tipped them off or a mere coincident? Hard to tell. He was overly tiered but could not sleep. He rarley slept well in beds, it was something that had been a problem since he first discovered them. Too open too spacious just not appropriate. He arose first sitting then hoped from the edge of the crude bed. Gathering some chains and throwed them into a heap in the north eastern corner making a hole in it by splacing pieces of metal scattered around the floor as small supporting beams. It was just large enough for him to crawl into it. In a foetus position he managed to fit himself into the womb of rusty chains. Sleep soon veiled him into her embrace as his waken hours had been far to many.

He could not remember a night without nightmares and this one was no exception. A vast black hillock towered before him. Bestrewed with red bloated skinless bodies pierced by various weapons still standing. He was a child again skipping on one ribcage unto the next with a crackling sound as he landed. His mind was set on reaching the summit. But appearing from notingness a Balor dug its flaming claw into his right arm. The searing pain spread into his entire arm as it incinderated, but Before it was burned through the creature wringed it of at the elbow tossing him downward. Speaking with a jeering booming voice "Your arm is no longer yours!" The boiling blood spread across his viens and he screamed out in agony holding his bleeding remainding stump tightly. Another Balor materialized and tore his entire left arm out of it's socked at his shoulder while he kicked him down and kept him prone with his foot at his back making his left lung expand enough to burst within him. He floundered wildly as his voice begain to fail him he screamed but there was no sound. Next thing he knows his both legs are ripped away at his knees. "Your legs won't carry you!" He looked up the hill espying the ridge far above. Digging into the corpses with his stumps he pushed with all his might to move forward but to no avail. Flames soon engulfed him and thereat he awoke. Newly aroused he did not know whether it was a dream or not, but the coldness of the metal against his back soon ascertained him where he was slowly returning to a unwakening sleep.

[*Krayt]

((Unless he is disturbed))

Like thus he remained in deep slumber occationaly awaken breifly by another visiting nightmare. For the expansure of full seven hours. Like a worm he writhed himself out of there his dark robe discoloured by several shades of rust ranging from dark red to light brown.

If I do not drown them in the sea of my hatred I shall drown in theirs. Thank you mother dear. He thought to himself.

Sleep wasn't all of a humans needs he had to find something to eat. Furtunate for him a demons sustenace served to sustain his own body just as theirs. But it had to wait. Without bothering to rid the worst filth from his attire he hurried outside into the library.

He asked the first lorekeeper he saw there. "Any knowledge on the Mercykiller companies? He presented the two insignias he had taken from the bloodsoaked corpses. "Got a knack for strange findings." They was still bloody as they layed in his opend palm.

[*Midnight]

He is not disturbed. The lore keeper, a shockingly rather jolly plump balding man of cheery disposition seems entirely out of place in the temple. He smiles as he sees the badges and laughs rather companionably.

"I see that you do, yes. Of course the mercykiller's are often used as a vehicle by our foes in The Bloodwar we try our best to keep track of them. Given the number of our flock who visit the prison for extended periods of time and the mercykillers rather rigid and clear hierarchy it is quite easy to trace them."

He loks along the tomes and takes one big leather bound book he opens the cover and unfolds what appears to be a pull out in the cover. The diagram on it resembles a family tree.

"28967"

He repeats the number on the badges and consults what Mauric sees is now a not entirely complete diagram.

"The squard recently returned from ribcage to be assigned to a Justicar in the cage. I do not know which one."

He smiles broadly though.

"I do have a copy of today's SIGIS though the mercykillers are mentioned in that. Apparently there is a Justicar Charae who is offering a twenty thousand jink reward for the capture of a Mauric Ashterot. Do you think it is just a coincidence?"

[*Krayt]

"That black and tan fox is a sly one. Bit disappointing on the figure there although."

While he belived that Charae was more interested in appearing professional to her superiors than to acually capture him with her own forces wasted, of course she was a greater threat. There was no way he could remove her with his own meek abilities. What he needed was to really infuriate them, so they came barging inside both the Temple and the Armoury thus kindling the conflict. Diplomacy had to be ruined by raging thoughtless ire. But he could not trust either of his allies to play his game, any action here could promt his execution. Somehow he needed to kill a massive number of them, enough to defame them notably.

"Well I'll return to my hiding"

He left the library but he headed for the undersigil exit instead of his room.

[*Krayt]

((If he made it through undersigil.))

He waited until anti-peak before ascending into the Hive. He held his head low and pulled the hood over his mask just at the blakend mesh covering the eyesockets on his skull-mask. He clasped his hands together which was mostly covered in he wide sleaves on his robe. strolling through the endless streets he looked for a suitable building for his ambush. One that could collapse with little effort while massive enough to kill what ever it fell in on.

[*Midnight]

Although he encounters the odd band of orcs every now and then in undersigil they pose him little trouble these days. He wanders The Hive at night dressed in his hood robes and skull mask looking for all the world like he belongs there. After he searches around for about an hour or so he finds what he is looking for. An abandoned slaughter house standing on a corner between the night market and The Gatehouse. He can break in easily and would find the foundations of the building dangerously unstable rotted from the wet acidic earth it sits in near the ditch.

[*Krayt]

He inspects the building throughout. Making a map withing his memory of every beam and shrivelled wall. Running a finger against it whereat a few chips dropped. This will suit perfectly he thought. Leaving that place he strolled closer to the bazar hoping to encounter a contingent of either Hardheads or Mercykillers.