Tuesday, 9 November 2010

The Inquisition

A man walks through the cold, decrepit streets. The moon rose hours ago. He strides, long, authoritatively. Peasants unwise enough to be outside see him, and flinch. Cower. Their eyes focus on his ring. It tells them who he his, what he is. Why he is there. They know enough to stay away. All but one. The simple peasant jostles the imposing, striding figure. The figure garbed in a cloak worthy of royal ownership over bulky armour with a dull shine. As the peasant jostles, the larger figure appears to blink out of existence in an eruption of black light. Past the peasant, he blinks back into existence, not once breaking pace.

He strides, purposefully, his hand eventually resting on the hilt of his sword. More peasants see him and his ring. A chunky golden signet ring engraved with an eye wreathed in laurels. They stay away. He rounds a corner and embarks down an alleyway. The cold is visible in the air now. He rounds another corner and takes but one step into a more open square. He stands and sees his target. He draws his sword in a flash, pointing it directly to the ground.

An enormous creature composed of fused flesh and sinew is engrossed in it's meal of flesh. Pustules rapidly form and burst on it's skin, skin marked with lesions and weeping sores. The Inquisitor starts to run, faster than a normal human ever could. He careers towards the beast, and moves his sword in a quick slash that seems to cut the very air. The beast roars, it's arm severed. It strikes as best it can with it's other arm. upon every strike that would connect, the Inquisitor blinks out of existence and reappears inches away. The beast, despite it's strength and bulk, has no chance. When an opportunity appears, the Inquisitor blinks to behind the beast and skewers it on his sword. Before it can react, he uses it as a platform to get onto the beast's shoulders, whereupon he wrenches the sword out of it's back. Despite the beast's best efforts to shake him off, it is decapitated in seconds. The beast falls, the Inquisitor calmly keeps balance, only adjusting his footing slightly. Stepping off the bleeding corpse, he disappears as quickly as he arrived.


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