The pale crescent moon loomed over Loguetown, like the sickle of some dark god. It shone with a sinister radiance that illuminated the streets. Even through the thick fog that hugged every inch of the surface. Tonight was an odd night, indeed. Vicktur had visited Loguetown several times in the past, and never had he seen it in such a dreaery state. It was like something out of a horror movie or a tasteless "scary" piece of literature. No doubt only some hack of a writer would create a setting such as this. But its not like Vicktur's life was just a story, right? The twelve foot six inch man sat on the roof of some abandoned building. Far off in the outskirts of the infamous town. He wasnt quite sure why he decided to stay out so late. He was restless and wasnt sure of the cause. Little did he know, destiny had a funny way of infolding events. If you believe in such things. Vicktur stared up at the moon, the crescent shape reflecting off his eye like a mirror, and scratched at his chin deep in thought. The cries of the owls and howls of the wolves accentuated the scene very nicely.
It wasnt long before he heard a slight commotion below him. Leaning over the side of the building, he caught sight of two Marines carrying a rug. But this was no ordinary rug. It appeared, to Vicktur, to have been wrapped around a corpse. The duo, two women to be exact, hauled it down the foggy moonlit streets towards the cemetery. One of them had two shovels tied to her back, while the other had a sword on her hip. Damn, this bastard stinks. How did we get stuck with this job? I should be at home with my boyfriend right now. Instead, i'm carrying a rotting stinking corpse the one with the shovels seemed bitter. She was transporting a dead body after all. So Vicktur could sympathize with that particular point. Relax. All we have to do is dump this bastard in a shallow ditch. Then you can go and get rammed by Prince Charming. the one with the sword joked. She was definitely the more lackadaisical of the two. Vicktur listened in to their witty banter until they turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
He weighed his options carefully. Stay here and loaf around until he passed out? Or hunt down those Marines and end their lives? They were both good options. But, being who he is, he chose the latter. Why let a +2 to his body count get away due to ill timed laziness? He followed them to the best of his ability. Hopping between rooftops and occasionally swinging on randomly hung ropes. Why were the ropes there? Plot maybe? He eventually made a stop on top of a smaller house parallel to the graveyard. But instead of just engaging with them immediately, he decided to wait. Letting them tire themselves out digging the hole would serve him well. Besides, this was one of the shittiest districts in the town. Far from HQ and reinforcements. He had nothing to worry about or rush into. Though, it did raise a suspicion inside of him. Why did they bother to bring this particular corpse way the fuck out here? And why so covertly? A horse and carriage would have saved them a shitload of time and effort. But they were tasked with carrying it by hand through the streets. Hmmmm.... he sat crosslegged and watched them begin to dig.
It wasnt long before he heard a slight commotion below him. Leaning over the side of the building, he caught sight of two Marines carrying a rug. But this was no ordinary rug. It appeared, to Vicktur, to have been wrapped around a corpse. The duo, two women to be exact, hauled it down the foggy moonlit streets towards the cemetery. One of them had two shovels tied to her back, while the other had a sword on her hip. Damn, this bastard stinks. How did we get stuck with this job? I should be at home with my boyfriend right now. Instead, i'm carrying a rotting stinking corpse the one with the shovels seemed bitter. She was transporting a dead body after all. So Vicktur could sympathize with that particular point. Relax. All we have to do is dump this bastard in a shallow ditch. Then you can go and get rammed by Prince Charming. the one with the sword joked. She was definitely the more lackadaisical of the two. Vicktur listened in to their witty banter until they turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
He weighed his options carefully. Stay here and loaf around until he passed out? Or hunt down those Marines and end their lives? They were both good options. But, being who he is, he chose the latter. Why let a +2 to his body count get away due to ill timed laziness? He followed them to the best of his ability. Hopping between rooftops and occasionally swinging on randomly hung ropes. Why were the ropes there? Plot maybe? He eventually made a stop on top of a smaller house parallel to the graveyard. But instead of just engaging with them immediately, he decided to wait. Letting them tire themselves out digging the hole would serve him well. Besides, this was one of the shittiest districts in the town. Far from HQ and reinforcements. He had nothing to worry about or rush into. Though, it did raise a suspicion inside of him. Why did they bother to bring this particular corpse way the fuck out here? And why so covertly? A horse and carriage would have saved them a shitload of time and effort. But they were tasked with carrying it by hand through the streets. Hmmmm.... he sat crosslegged and watched them begin to dig.