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|Subject: To catch a letter. (INTRO ONLY!) Thu Oct 11, 2007 11:30 pm|| |
He waited in a large Oak tree growing near the road patiently. Waiting for the patrol to pass back through this area. As the predetermined time approached, a sly grin sneaked up his lips until he was almost grinning. The guards rode up over the hill about a hundred yards away and were in standard two, by two, by two formation one of the rear guards was playing flag bearer for the squad as they rode on their very well groomed horses. The light summer breeze would not betray the actions and horrors that were about to happen this day. As the guardsmen neared to about ten yards away, Richter moved. However, he did not walk, or run, nor did he drop from the tree. He Blinked out of existence here and appeared behind the guards in the fields next to the roads.
Here he summoned his long bow and an arrow appeared on it as he drew back the string. Once he was drawn back to his full draw, a second arrow appeared above the first balancing precariously on top of it. Rotating his bow to a fifty degree angle Richter let the arrows both loose right before un-summoning the bow. Blinking out he was back in the tree above the guards as the two rear guards dropped like stones. An arrow sticking through ones neck and the others skull the barbed sheaf arrowheads covered in small pieces of gore, on view now to the next traveler. Pulling out four darts, he threw them into the guard on the rights face and killed him rather quickly. The guards took note now of men dying and spurred the steeds onward. The horses ran fast as their riderís commanded. Very willing to play to the demands of their masters, much like Richter did for his.
As the horses thrust onward to bring their master to whatever place they thought they would be going to, the horses entered the field of caltrops left in the road. Hundreds of sharp objects in their path, and under their hooves caused horses to rear up fast at the pain and buck against their masters rule, two riders were thrown the last managed to stay on his horse. That rider would luckily die without ever knowing what killed him. The same would go for the horse is it was split in two by Tallangís wicked edge, horse and rider fell in several directions as they hit the ground and covered it in entrails and blood.
He blinked a dozen feet behind the guards that had landed painfully in the spikes their horses had found. Both horseís had moved to the fields and were running off with a hobble, they would be allowed to leave. The two he wanted were flailing around pulling barbs out of their bodies. Only one had the sense to stand and painfully draw his sword. Richter bowed to his foe in a kind of taunting yet slightly Asian way. Sheathing Tallang, he drew his Saiís into his hands. He takes a low cat stance and motions for the rider to come to him.
The foolish guard took this as an insult and darted forward towards the Shadow Hunter. His sloppy disengage lunged was easily batted away with one weapon as he stepped forward and implanted his other blade neatly in the foeís temple. With a tug, his blade slipped free with some slimy, grayish-red filth on it. As the final guard stood up, he knew he was a goner. Moreover, Richter just smiled at him revealing his elongated canines in a threatening manner. He may not be vampiric. Nevertheless, he knew how much he looked like it. Moreover, that edge was enough to drive the guard on into panic mood
Just like clockwork the coward ran, tripping over some of the gore of the dissected horse and rider he shrieked. It was so pathetic, it was almost funny. However, a job was a job and there was no sense in tormenting this guard further, walking carefully through the field of spikes he took up the Imperial banner that the guards were carrying and continued to walk towards the guardsmen that was crawling on his back away from him. A powerful blow against the ground shattered the lower half of the haft and left it splintered and more importantly pointed. The guard was still spouting off in his native Elven tongue for mercy. Had Richter had a choice in the matter he still would not have granted such a waste another chance to see the dawn.
Closing the gap between him and the guard only took another few steps, and then he started feeding on the life force of the Elf begging before him. At first, the elf did not feel his life draining away towards Richter but as he weakened and became a bit paler, he noticed his strength was quickly failing him. Yet he still did not seem to notice that it was Richter sapping his will by absorbing it. The elves final cries fell upon deaf ears as Richter drove the wooden pole through the maleís abdomen and more then a foot into the earth under him. Splinters pierced stomach, kidneys, and maybe intestines, yet this impalement would not kill the man quickly. Instead, it drove out the most agonized screams. Far worse then most battle-hardened warriors might have ever heard. This was a truly horrible way to die. The process would take several minutes if he were lucky. In fact, had it not been for draining this poor wretches life away it might have very well taken only a little bit less the half an hour for this to kill him.
With the guards decimated, Richter moved over to the corpse of the sergeant. His face hard like stone as he rummaged through the things in this pack, after a few moments he found exactly what he wanted. A hardened scroll case came out of the very messy pack, and with a smile, Richter blinked somewhere else again. However, not very far, he was up in the oak tree again as he opened the case and pulled out several sealed letters to foreign dignitaries, and possibly the emperorís friends. Nevertheless, these were dropped carelessly on the ground. He was looking for specific names.
Three letters fell down from on high and landed in the mess that was swiftly drawing flies below. He was not interested in their contents any more then the sounds of anguish and agony filtered into his hearing. Two more letters were discarded as he found one he wanted. It was addressed from the Master General of the Imperial armies. He pocketed that letter to read later. His main concern was that it did not make it back to the Imperial city. He continued looking through the remaining letters until he found the other dispatches he was after. He tucked the others in his jacket with the first and looked through the rest to make sure nothing drew his eye.
After a quick look, he discarded all of the remaining dispatches in the filth below. It would be rather obvious that something was taken from the dispatches. However, it would also look like a small group attacked the men. After all, how could they be attacked from so many directions so quickly that only two had a chance to draw? Nevertheless, that was also, why he had used such varied methods to kill them; his actions were for nothing if he was suspected this early in his assault on the crown. But the odds of any one thinking a single hand could have done all of this would still be afraid based on the precision and power used to do it.
Smiling at his own imagination and creativity like what was just done was an artistic expression he would look towards the horizon and blink out again. Leaving nothing to tell what had gone on here, other then the bodies of the dead, and no trace as to his next move. He looked back from what was once the horizon and barely could make out the serene looking tree now bathed in the gore of dead soldiers. It was a pity none of them would no how little there deaths would ever affect the world that allowed then to go out so swiftly. Like a candle in a breeze, snuffed to save resources by a cheap employer.