The smoke from inside tumbled out and dissipated as it fell
to the floor. Stale tobacco clung to the damp and the smell of sawdust. The brute emerged, dressed in what was now
apparent to be more mercantile clothing. His build however, and what appeared to
be two short swords by his side, definitely put him down here. In his stumpy
grip he dragged the two drunks out and threw them against the wall. The
Televaraen had now removed his hood. For all that was seen in the Stead, not
many were prepared for just how inhuman they were. The thug tasted the air
around the figure, his eyes closing in both directions. The man was no man, nor
by any definition a humanoid. The astounding qualities of a feline figure, furred
in burnt charcoal, was masked under a human attire. These creatures, if it was not for their
intelligence, physique, and society, they would be considered a distant cousin of a domestic animal. This then left
one thought; if the domesticated hunt vermin then there could only be one pray
for the Televaraen. The brute moved passed as swiftly as he could, leaving the
two drunkards at the man's mercy. These two were now crying, pleading. At least with the Golithair their overall
figure was humanoid, this man had no such features ; a savagely civilised beast.
Only a few feet away Eryn had managed to pass into the alley
unnoticed. While the Televaraen had been
using his cerulean velvet cloth that acted like sharpening steel on the tips of his claws; Eryn had nearly
stumbled over rigging from a few floors above and nearly fell from the wall he
jumped behind to hide. His new found courage had come at a price. Chloe had
managed to walk straight past the thug and although his intent was to stop her.
One Lord Shroud glared over, his head gently shaking and the thug backed off. Chloe
gathered her cloak around her and stuck to the wall and the shadows. She was
deliberate, and a lot more methodical than Lord Shroud had given her credit.
She slunk over the wall. Eryn was mildly panicking he was about to be mauled to
death and had his hands together ready to at least attempt a defence against
onslaught. She was quickly followed by Lord Shroud his tattered clothing
managing to blend to some extent his existence in the surroundings, she was more
of a shock to Eryn whose nerves were pretty much frayed by now. All three
watched carefully, quietly.
The Televaraen had by now finished his preparation. One of
the drunks had pretty much sobered up and dropped to his knees as the other was
gripped by the throat and held to the wall in a tight claw. The eyes of the
Televaraen squinted, its grip flexed into the skin of his victim. A pinprick of
pain was felt in the back of his head, throbbing away for a few seconds. When
it subsided, the Televaraen was offered help by three apparent allies. This was
interesting for the clawed man, this situation was familiar but fresh. The
thought gnawed at him, his frustration ripped through the throat of his prey. The
grey stone dripped in red onto the crates. Eryn went pale, Chloe looked with
both fear and interest, while Shroud
looked the man straight in the eyes. In the seconds that the man had
fallen to the floor, twitching and bleeding out, pools dripping to the floor
below; his companion had tried to run. Within a blink the Televaraen had pinned
him down to the floor, licking his bloodstained paw and the man's breath
quickened and cries for help were
shouted again.
The three had unconsciously moved a few steps back while watching
this. They offered anything they could for the man's life. Chloe pulled out her
plated fork, the only thing she could think to offer. As she raised it, a semi
broken glowglobe lit the interior, producing a spectrum on the deck. The
Televaraen bounded back over to the group, but not before clawing the leg of
the now fully sober man. He limped off into the dark. The blood was now nearly
all cleared off and to which out of a pocket the man produced another cloth,
this time in pure white and a small snyth bottle. The liquid inside was poured
onto the cloth and the cloth was vigorously rubbed all over the paw and claw.
Not a single spec was left. He brought a comb out after this was put away and
brushed his fur that was open to the elements.
He licked his paws, smoothed down his face and patted his whiskers. His
stature unnerved Chloe as he towered over her. His eyes fixated on her, pupils
dilated as if the eye was nearly all black.
Lord Shroud thought of intervening, perhaps this brief
respite was just for the Televaraen's own composure before a kill. There were
two things about this creatures most people knew, apart from the horrific
corpses it leaves behind. On a few, and rare occasions, they have been
witnessed to meticulously clean themselves, and everything they carry y and after
each kill their claws are cleaned while something is chanted. This was what was happening now, and could
only be seen as whatever business they had had concluded. Eryn had out of
morbid curiosity gone over to the corpse, and had vomited after catching the
warm scent of blood and the obvious stench below. The Televaraen tried to
communicate, a language nobody else could speak. Gestures by paw and claw only
left Chloe more scared on the brink of crying herself. This changed the tactic
of communication. The Televaraen got
down onto all four paws. His whole garment made from an adaptive material to
which had now taken on the form of the fur it covered. He nudged his face
against the clenched fist of Chloe around the plated fork. Lord Shroud put his
hand on her, making her jump. She dropped the fork and the Televaraen had
gotten back onto his hind legs and swiped it away before it could touch the
ground and started to stare at it. He rubbed his face against it, muttering a
few words as another cloth was brought forth. It was cleaned and then wrapped
in a separate cloth and placed into a pocket. A few more words were spoken but not
understood. A broken flagon and the jingle of shins dangled in a sack from a
claw were hopefully signs of a truce, or at least, a temporary understanding,
with added alcohol.
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