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 Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2015 2:24 pm
(PRP for Rotti Itzal "The Corpse Carrier" (Angelique DelaMort))  Rotti picked his way carefully through the ruins of the village. To be honest, this was more than he'd hoped for. Poisoning a village typically killed off the old and the young, the latter being particularly devastating to the inhabitants. Yet here he stood in the midst of smouldering rubble and the heavy aroma of death and decay in all of it's sickeningly sweet glory still lingered oppressively. From what he gathered through the multitudes of hushed whispers that had reached him in the mountainous den he'd taken shelter in the discovery of the poisoned stream had happened far to late to save the village elders. Worse for them, one of the warriors had suggested leaving the village and the water supply but the village elders stood firm and refused to budge. They insisted on waiting out the "sickness" as they called it. But the plague never lessened its vice like grip on the village. From what he'd heard it was that same warrior that had spoken before that torched the village to the ground after the death of his sickly wife and new born daughter. "Nothing like a nice psychotic break to brighten up the place," the foxwalker commented dryly.
He turned his gaze skyward and smiled observing the ever spinning shapes of vultures, black against the ashy sky. In his particular line he had a great appreciation for the circle of life. The humans drank the tainted water, they died, the vultures ate the tainted meat, they died, the other scavengers coyotes and such ate the vultures, they in turn died and so on... If he was really lucky his influence could spread as far as to affect some of the wolves and panthers of the area....maybe even a kalona. Then he could pick any corpse he wanted and gather it into his saddle to poison a new source of water and begin the whole cycle all over it. The fools so rather considered that their circle of life wasn't really a circle at all, but a very short road and all lines led to death.
However the brave warrior had unwittingly placed a small barrier in the middle of Rotti's plans. He had intended to pick up a diseased corpse from the village to throw in a separate stream not too far away. Once the body was found to be from this village the long standing contentions between the tribes would boil over. Humans were so keen to destroy each other, especially when they are standing up for their "allies" - they would do much in the name of an ally without much proof and even less provocation. In some ways the warrior's actions made that great war all the more possible if the true nature of the village's demise could be contained. But he had to figure out a new way to pull all of the contentious forces together. The question always was How...
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Posted: Thu Apr 30, 2015 6:49 pm
As Rotti continued his tour of the village he frowned as he came across yet another charred corpse. "No, no, no," he muttered to himself. "Now this is all wrong, this thing will never poison a well. It hardly even poisons the nostrils, the entire thing smells like a great feast." If he'd only gotten here a bit sooner it could have been a nice feast for him. He could almost taste it, the fear in the air - the sickly sweet flesh, freshly tenderized by the free flowing adrenaline that rushed through the air. But such was life in pursuit of death, timing is everything and just this once his timing was a little off. So that meant no meal and no...
The walker paused mid step, his paws and claws digging into the ash covered ground to give him better purchase. His wide ears fanned around, seeking out the source of the- Yes! He'd just heard it again! He bared his jaws, a macabre smile from his skull painted face. "Something here lives..." he growled and he inhaled deeply with his nose hoping to pick up a scent. Alas all was burnt and that was masking his quarry. No matter, he had come this far and he knew patience....to a point.
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Posted: Thu Apr 30, 2015 6:51 pm
The walker edged forward, no longer exploring - he was now on the hunt. He crouched low to the ground, his venom green eyes combing the land. Whatever it was had been moving, something in this town had to have been disturbed. He would find it!
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Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2015 5:56 pm
The fox walker held still for a few minutes, noting the invisible yet oppressive cloud that hung over the ruin village. Yes, he was certain he'd heard the sound again. Faint, yet still there. His large ears swerved slowly trying to take everything in. A small sound, like a sob. Weak, yet clinging to life nonetheless. Not for long Rotti was convinced. He only hoped the damned thing was poisoned and not too badly charred. Of course if he could some how arrange for one of these burnt bodies to end up near an ally's came with some trinket or other from their great enemy clan attached...well, his plan might just be savagable - eh, Salvageable.
Using his keen nose he attempted to filter through the ashes of both nature and man and came across the distance smell of vomit. Promising. The dead typically didn't vomit. He followed the faint scent, noting as it grew stronger so did other scents of a living thing in distress, the acidic tang that came with the scent of blood being his favorite (it was so much more welcoming than the bitter scent of ammonia). He could hardly believe his good luck when he came across it. A woman, older than he would have expected to survive - by her adornments he suspected she was one of the spiritual leaders of the clan. How delicious.
She drew up as he approached, at least as much as she could with her legs pinned by the collapsed structure she still attempted to take shelter within. The fear was apparent in her eyes, as was defiance in equal servings with disbelief. One of the reasons Rottti had found this particular group of great annoyance was a combination of their deep running spirituality and their blind arrogance that was long as they completed their rituals the spirits would protect and shelter them. "Where are your gods now..." Rotti growled, uncaring that she would not understand his words. The spirits held no sway over him. To prove it he would destroy this village and the others that followed in its steps. And he would use their most devoted priestess to further his plans.
However if his plan was going to work, it couldn't look like a walker had contributed at all to the woman's death. He growled at her, then roared to see if her heart was near failing. She yelled back - defiantly as could be managed with her weakening state. Rotti leaned back on his haunches trying to determine his next step. It wasn't that he lacked a plan, he merely wanted to ensure that he made use of the best strategy for this... delicate situation. After all, a complex plan deserved dedicated plotting and besides, he had a reputation to maintain.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2015 6:20 pm
The woman continued to stare him down, no trace at all of fear in her eyes. How tedious. He mused again at how easy it would be to strike her down with a flick of his mighty claws, but that would defeat the point. A natural death would have been preferable but with the prey's heart unwilling to yield even to his most furious and ferocious statements, it was clear that he would have to find another way to move on to stage two of his plan. He pawed carefully around the area, the whole time feeling her eyes upon him. It was of no matter. In short order he found a tool that would suffice, a long wooden staff, similar to the one that emerged from his saddle. The end was previously formed into a sharp point but in the time since the village's destruction it had been allowed to rest from time to time in shouldering fires in just such a way so that the tip became hardened. Perfect! he thought to himself quite pleased.
He returned to his prey with his new toy and again looked it over attempting to decide the most vulernable part to allow for a silent kill. No need to draw any more attention to himself. He ultimately decided on the throat as a point of entry and grasping the staff within his teeth flicked his head quickly and was rewarded with a pleasant squirt of red liquid followed by a quite groan. Then nothing.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2015 6:28 pm
Rotti then began the somewhat challenging task of loading his kill into his saddle to transport it to the lake that fed into their ally's village. This body and a confidently placed feather baring the colors of a mutual enemy should do the trick. And what a marvelous trick it would be. They might set the entire valley alight with their battles. It was the little things that made his work worth while.
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Posted: Sat Nov 28, 2015 2:03 pm
His cargo securely loaded, Rotti began the perilous trek to his previously selected location that would ensure maximum fatalities. The trip was not easy. To ensure his precious cargo would not be found he had to go out of the way - far from where mere mortals tread. So that meant going up, up, up - over rocky crags and across maybe a ravine or two. The best location would be where soquili and familiars couldn't reach as well. Spoilsports they all were warning the humans of his plans. Ruining the fox's fun constantly. He could only hope a few (hundred...) of them would drink from the tainted water as well. He longed for the sound of carrion birds filling the air.
These thoughts and many others echoed in his mind as his padded his way with a patient pace through the dark forest. He had to move quickly and avoid any souls that may have been attracted by the remains of the charred village. With the speeding and steady sound of hoof falls rapidly coming his way. He crouched down and ducked into the underbrush, always mindful of his cargo. To let it fall off now would squander far too much of his hard work. And if there's anything this fox hated, it was to waste his time.
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Posted: Sat Nov 28, 2015 2:16 pm
Rotti grew quiet and slowed his breathing to almost nothing as he heard the heavy hoof falls slow and stop mere feet away from where he took cover. From the sounds there were two of them, big brutes too. He heard them stomping and the swift intake of air through their nostrils. Rotti rolled his eyes and stifled a groan. Wasn't that always the way? An annoyingly large number of souls could sense his presence. He'd even heard a few of his meals refer to it as 'pure evil' - as if they were shocked or outraged. Honestly, he was a walker, none of this should be new. But at the moment he was sincerely hoping who/whatever this was just moved on along. He didn't have time for a fight right this moment. He had other business this night.
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2015 5:04 pm
Rotti grew increasingly annoyed as the hoof falls began circling his location, as if trying to determine his exact location. Well that was just perfect. He let out a low growl, nearly imperceptible to the ear. His goal was not to growl at the souls trotting around him, but to make them question if they had heard the growl at all. For 90% of soquili in the world, the fear stirred by the unknown. Now all he had to do was bide his time and wait for them to scurry off into the night.
Which is why it was so annoying for him to hear them say, "I think I hear something."
Rotti rolled his eyes and stalked forward just a little to see what he was up against. Maybe he'd experience just a little bit of luck and he'd come face to face with a usdia...
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Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2015 5:10 pm
It took all of Rotti's self control not to let out an audible groan when he saw the set of war horse legs standing before his lurking place (it was beneath him to hide at this point). His night got even better when another set of warhorse legs approached to report there were paw prints some ways back heading in this direction and the locals were concerned. Concerned, Rotti scoffed. They should have been terrorized. They would have been if they knew what he was up to. However his plan would be cut short if he didn't figure out how to ditch these two fools.
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