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A Box of Fiddled Rats; open
Topic Started: Fri Jun 8, 2012 7:25 am (333 Views)
Shaco
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The day had just come to an end, with the sun setting, casting a thin calm glow over Norwood village. The golden sunset mixed with the nature feel of the trees, wildlife and heavy elven culture. People were still moving about, both on the streets and in the tree tops. Children played, farmers finished tended to their crop, and buissness owners were closing shop. The street lamps were dim, making their way to full light, as the once cool blue sky was stained orange, as a slow creeping darkness spread its fingers out across the sky.

Shaco had never been here before, not by choice or anything, his life just never gave him reason to venture this way. Afterall his life had no real meaning, he was dumb, insane, crazed and knew not why he did things. He was like a child, let loose on the world by the abyss itself. Except unlike a child he was filled with evil, a single goal to wreck havoc on the material plane. Norwood had experience evil before, from the blood thirsty killer to the sleek mastermind, but Shaco was none of this, he was a new type of evil, a darker, even more twisted form of the evil that manifested itself within people.

" Silly box of Fiddled rats, the caps and crowns to you we tip, our hats and frowns to you we slip. Oh silly box of fiddled rats." The jesters suit of darkness had taken on the form of his blue and purple jester suit, for he was feeling happy and live tonight. His little bells jingled through the joyous night air as he skipped along the main street, and box in his hands. Inside the box were four dead rats, each guted and slain, left in the box to rot. A foul smell had already begun to form, with flies hovering over their dinner. He skipped around like a merry child, singing and humming a odd tune.
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Vernon
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Elven babies were so precious. They were vulnerable so much longer humans other short-lived humanoids, which made them all the more prized the slow rate of elven procreation. Most precious of all was their delightful taste. There seemed to be something divine within their youth and innocence. Algrenon, ungrateful ingrate that he was, got grumpy and twitchy when ever he didn't have his fill of infantile creatures, though any baby was good but Algernon's book. Vernon had simply found elven infants to be of the best quality both for himself and for his pets he felt were deserving.

Vernon strolled through the streets in the decpetive form of an elf so as to avoid the infamy and smelliness that his natural form would use to attract unwanted attention. He had managed to stealthfully snag an elven baby that he held in his basket. Now he just needed to exit before either the child woke up or someone noticed the mother slaughtered in her own home before she could even scream out for help. He had also poisoned the child to prevent it from waking too soon and hopefully the dose was not strong enough to prove leathal. Algernon prefered his snacks live and here wasn't the proper place for snack time as Vernon wanted some of the little brat as we.

Vernon paused as he noticed a scent the delightful scent of rot. It was by far an uncommon scent within an elven village, but it seemed relatively fresh and with his dulled sense in this form it had to be close. Vernon decided a slight detour couldn't hurt and altered his course to find the source of the dleightful rot. He was surprised to see a bizzare clown carrying a small box. It seemed the smell was coming from the box, but Vernon was left too speech to decide what he do next. Was this an illusion of some sort, but no it was too bizarre even for that.
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Shaco
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The jester was having a good time, atleast in his sense of fun. He was simply prancing around the streets, continuing to carry the box of dead rats, and humming a odd tune. His little bells were ringing in the night air as people started to notice the clown, and start to drift away from him. Norwood was often a calm peaceful place, where very few oddities occured, so this odd dressed jester, who stunk of rot and evil was something people were not to comfortable around.

However, one man, an elf it seemed, with a child, had guts...or was just insane, for he began to make his way towards Shaco. After a few moments the demon took notice of this elven man, and allowed a large demented grin to spread across his face. His head tilted slightly to the side as his bright blue eyes glinted in the growing darkness. His voice rattled like metal being scracted with other metal. "Once a day the mold will rise, twice a day a man will Die. Muwhahaha" He began to hop in place now, directing his full attention at the approching man. "Mister man, do you like fiddled rats?" He paused for a second, the snapped to attention at the sight of the baby, as if he had already forgotten it was there.

"O O O a baby! can i fiddle his toes and bite his nose? or poke his eye with the finger of a giant? Oh i wish i could have that baby." His attention left this elven man and even the box of dead rats he held. He was completely interested in the small child.
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Vernon
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Vernon found himself readily anoyed with the jester when the fool opened his mouth. His voice was irritating, but held a manic quality that reminded him eeriely of Ogichi. Vernon half wanted to smear the fools guts across the allway just for the sole purpose of being rid of him, and yet the other half of him saw use in this strange creature. The fool's nefarious interest in the baby did little to settle the score between the competing views. For now Vernon decided on a Practical answer. "No," Vernon scowled drawing the basket away from the Jester.

"Do your own dirty work, or better yet do mine, but by no means ask me to do your work for you." After the words left his mouth he became moderately aware that he might need to give a simmilar reprimand to Algernon. He was supposed to spoil food rotten not his pets. "So answer me this, are you ready to earn your own share?" Vernon grinned with a sudden spark of intellect. He would get the fool to fetch Algernon's baby and make the two split the prize. It was an excellent comprimise while he kept his sweet little baby to himself.
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