Tabard of the Fallen

[Drevan]

Tabard of the fallen.


((A little insight into the character of Sakareth - oh and who's Kad you ask? Tsk tsk. ))


Prelude.

“Take a seat…”

“You said you found it.” Sakareth grew impatient.

“Take a seat and all be explained.” The Undead grinned toothily at the large Orc.

Sakareth was unsure as to where Viktor had acquired the information, and if he was honest, he didn’t care. Viktor was a petty thief and conman who had his hand in just about everything that was beneath the notice of the authorities. He was a shark in his very own little fishbowl.

The small wooden stool creaked as Sakareth sat upon it. â€" “You said you found it…” Sakareth growled with a deliberate pause between words.

Viktor continued to grin in response. “Yes my friend, I have found it… or rather, it found me, but that’s a story for another day.”

Sakareth leaned forward, his heavy armour creaking and groaning as the different plates rubbed together.

“It’s currently in being held by a rich, noble Elf. He holds it as some sort of glorified trophy…” Viktor’s grin remained.

“A Trophy!?” Sakareth growled in disgust. “Has he no honour!?” The big Orc fidgeted on his stool.

Viktor was clearly amused “Ha! An Elf and honour? I always knew you were mad my friend, but to think such things!” The undead Rogue giggled to himself for a moment before adorning a much more serious face. “His name is Sandaelas, he holds regular parties in his Haven outside Silvermoon, apparently to show off his wealth - I’m sure your treasure will be amongst his more… prized possessions.”

Sakareth leaned back a little. “What is the catch…”

Viktor raised his eyebrows. “The catch?”

“Nothing from you ever comes free…” Sakareth rested elbow on the table, propping his head up with his hand. The table titled towards him under its weight.

Viktor clasped at his belongings, as they rolled off the table, he pointed at Sakareth and smiled. “Over the last few months, you’ve been a great… asset to me. I am simply passing on some information. What you do with it is up to you; call it a… payment for your services if you like.” Viktor’s awkward grin returned.  He chuckled slightly as he left the table and left the room.

Sakareth reached out and pulled the remaining parchment on the table towards him.

He pocketed the paper and let out a low growl as he got up and left the room.



Six days later.

The bright sun beamed down upon Sakareth, broken up from time to time by the trees of the Eversong Wood. The hulking Orc was at odds with the flourishing forest around him. As he shuffled through the well-worn tracks, life teemed around him, the land radiated hope and revival, almost mocking the Death Knight. The few passer-by’s that he encountered gave the frightening Orc a wide berth. Focused on his objective, the Orc marched on.

Sakareth arrived at Sandaelas’ dwelling; a large, ornate, open building nestled in a natural clearing. The sounds of birds singing was complemented by the peaceful trickling of water from the many elaborate fountains that dotted the delicate floral displays throughout the structure.

Sakareth spotted a lone Elf. He appeared to be restringing some sort of instrument. The big Orc marched up through the courtyard, his heavy steps cracking the intricate marble tiles that made up the flooring, his aura freezing and cracking the many fountains around him.

The Elf, alerted by the odd, but distinctive sound of Metal boots hammering the fragile flooring turned to see the monstrous Orc  just feet  from him.

Sakareth threw his arm at stumbling Elf, tightly gripping his neck. He lifted the flailing Elf, bringing him to his face.

The Elf struggled and kicked at the Orc, trying to free himself.

Sakareth growled at the Elf. “Where. Is. It.”

The Elf had gone limp, exhausted from his futile struggle. “Are… are you him…”

Sakareth bared his teeth. “I am death incarnate…”

“NOW WHERE IS IT!?” He roared at Elf.

Sandaelas went pale with fear, frost clung to his face. “I… I… Don’t have it…”

“LIES!” Sakareth gripped the Elf’s throat tighter, pushing him thumb into the flesh under the Elf’s chin.

“I told him I don’t have it!”  The Elf gasped for breath, screaming and squirming in discomfort.  â€œI told Viktor I’d get him his money… PLEASE!”

Sakareth’s eyes widened. “What?!” He loosened his grip.

“I told him, I won’t have the money till the next shipment.” The Elf swallowed hard, catching his breath. “But I promise I’ll repay him!”

Sakareth pushed him up against a nearby wall.

“THE TABARD?! â€" WHERE IS IT?!” Sakareth screamed at the Elf, his mouth, no more than a blades width from the Elf.

Sandaelas winced in pain. “I don’t know what you’re talking about... I owe Viktor gold… lots of gold. Please… whatever he is paying you, I’ll double it. Just give me a week!”

Sakareth callously dropped the Elf and turned to the apartment. He kicked over wardrobes, and tore through units, frantically searching.

“IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!” Sakareth roared as he tossed furniture aside, ransacking the place and spilling their contents on the floor.

“WHERE IS IT!?”… “NO!”

He dropped to knees, thumping and hitting the ground with his fists.

“This was my destiny…” “NO!” ” I…”

Sakareth shook his head.

“NO!” He punched the ground again, his voice a mix of anger and sorrow.

“It’s not supposed to be like this. I NEED THIS! This isn’t meant to be!”

“Kad... AGAIN I FAIL YOU! â€" This… THIS WAS MY BELONGING… My purpose!” Sakareth let off a mighty feral roar as he tossed everything he would reach aside.

“You... You’ve been tricked…” The Elf tried to get to his feet. “You… are… just a tool, something to use… can’t you see?” The Elf’s voice was feint.

Sakareth’s eyes narrowed. He turned his head, focusing on the Elf, before returning to his feet.  The Elf had managed to get up on one knee, supporting himself the debris of a broken dressing table to his right.

“Please…” Sandaelas begged.

Sakareth approached the Elf. “You… know… nothing…”

He gripped the Elf by his head, and lifted him clear from the ground. Blood ran down the side of the Elf as the Orcs mighty gauntlet opened huge gashes in the Elf’s flesh. Sakareth turned, throwing the Elf like a ragdoll at the adjacent wall. The room shook slightly as the Elf folded and broke upon the wall, collapsing in a limp pile on the ground.

Sakareth turned away from the Elf dropping once again to his knees. He listened as the faint, struggling breathing of the Elf ceased.

[Grekthar]

((Oooh, very nice if this turns into an IC thing, don't hesitate to ask my belf DK Angealion whos wandering around that area at the moment))

[Ugluhk]

(( nice one Azuril! still fear Kad's stick...))