by Strangler » Thu Oct 30, 2025 6:44 am
Strangler sat with his back against the Well of the Ruined Keep sliding his hand along a long piece of torn silk. It was thin and frayed, it might have been green once but was now a strange brown. He stared down at it, twisting it around his fingers, pulling and compressing it against his palms. He smiled. As he toyed with the silk, a group of trollocs entered through the great gatekeep and made their way towards the square, chattering aimlessly about some fresh kill, a few patting their bellies happily. One of the trollocs splintered away from the main group and headed towards the Strangler, something light and airy shifting in outstretched hands. Mazoku glanced down at the Strangler and nodded and offered up a prize. It was a silk dress bearing the ancient seal of the Aes Sedai, pure white, except for a few new reddish smears.
The seated trolloc smiled wide and stashed his slim piece of silk before taking the dress from Mazoku with something akin to reverence. He brought it to his face and inhaled deeply, clearly pleased. "Fresh,' Mazoku said. "Just took. Make use." The Strangler nodded appreciatively and at once began to tear the dress apart, creating long strips of white silk. The older trolloc nodded, once, and turned away, but before he could leave, he heard a voice over his shoulder clearly aimed in his general direction, "Like dress trolloc? You wear it?" Mazoku turned and saw a large Dha'vol with small piggish eyes looking down at Strangler. "You look pretty," he laughed, before prancing around as if he were a lady at a ball, something he had seen from a distance once before. "You belong in dress. No good for anything else." Mazoku began to walk towards him to correct him, but noticed Strangler hadn't even looked up. He was silently weaving the silk strands together into an intricate cord. He would twist one, then another, overlapping them swiftly with a practiced grace. Mazoku stared at him a moment longer before sighing and lumbering away. You never could tell what the Strangler was thinking.
The large Dha'vol, once tired of his game, left to join the others around the large cooking pot that was quickly being filled with varying types of viscera and limbs. He sat down and poked at the coals of the fire underneath the giant kettle, enjoying the heat and the pleasant odor wafting from within. As he slowly began to relax, he suddenly felt something tickle around his throat and squawked in a startled gasp as he was jerked backwards onto his back. Something tightened around his throat, and he scratched and clawed towards his neck trying to stop whatever was choking him. He rocked back and forth, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he gasped and tried to scream for help. The Dha'vol tried to turn onto his side to lift himself up and that's when he finally noticed a pair of legs laced around his waist from behind, stopping him from moving an inch. Several other trollocs, clearly Dha'vol by the badge they wore, rose and began to make their way towards their fallen brother, but they quickly halted as Grimclaw stepped into the light between the choking trolloc and them. He hefted his axe and shook his head, then stood there, waiting.
When the Dha'vol had stopped struggling, and breathing, the Strangler unwound his newly braided silk cord from around his neck and pushed him off his body. He stood and nodded towards his brother, Grimclaw, then stooped once more and began to go through the pockets of the Dha'vol. Satisfied he had found all there was that was of any value he rose and walked into the darkness, his brother not far behind him. He left smiling.
Strangler sat with his back against the Well of the Ruined Keep sliding his hand along a long piece of torn silk. It was thin and frayed, it might have been green once but was now a strange brown. He stared down at it, twisting it around his fingers, pulling and compressing it against his palms. He smiled. As he toyed with the silk, a group of trollocs entered through the great gatekeep and made their way towards the square, chattering aimlessly about some fresh kill, a few patting their bellies happily. One of the trollocs splintered away from the main group and headed towards the Strangler, something light and airy shifting in outstretched hands. Mazoku glanced down at the Strangler and nodded and offered up a prize. It was a silk dress bearing the ancient seal of the Aes Sedai, pure white, except for a few new reddish smears.
The seated trolloc smiled wide and stashed his slim piece of silk before taking the dress from Mazoku with something akin to reverence. He brought it to his face and inhaled deeply, clearly pleased. "Fresh,' Mazoku said. "Just took. Make use." The Strangler nodded appreciatively and at once began to tear the dress apart, creating long strips of white silk. The older trolloc nodded, once, and turned away, but before he could leave, he heard a voice over his shoulder clearly aimed in his general direction, "Like dress trolloc? You wear it?" Mazoku turned and saw a large Dha'vol with small piggish eyes looking down at Strangler. "You look pretty," he laughed, before prancing around as if he were a lady at a ball, something he had seen from a distance once before. "You belong in dress. No good for anything else." Mazoku began to walk towards him to correct him, but noticed Strangler hadn't even looked up. He was silently weaving the silk strands together into an intricate cord. He would twist one, then another, overlapping them swiftly with a practiced grace. Mazoku stared at him a moment longer before sighing and lumbering away. You never could tell what the Strangler was thinking.
The large Dha'vol, once tired of his game, left to join the others around the large cooking pot that was quickly being filled with varying types of viscera and limbs. He sat down and poked at the coals of the fire underneath the giant kettle, enjoying the heat and the pleasant odor wafting from within. As he slowly began to relax, he suddenly felt something tickle around his throat and squawked in a startled gasp as he was jerked backwards onto his back. Something tightened around his throat, and he scratched and clawed towards his neck trying to stop whatever was choking him. He rocked back and forth, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he gasped and tried to scream for help. The Dha'vol tried to turn onto his side to lift himself up and that's when he finally noticed a pair of legs laced around his waist from behind, stopping him from moving an inch. Several other trollocs, clearly Dha'vol by the badge they wore, rose and began to make their way towards their fallen brother, but they quickly halted as Grimclaw stepped into the light between the choking trolloc and them. He hefted his axe and shook his head, then stood there, waiting.
When the Dha'vol had stopped struggling, and breathing, the Strangler unwound his newly braided silk cord from around his neck and pushed him off his body. He stood and nodded towards his brother, Grimclaw, then stooped once more and began to go through the pockets of the Dha'vol. Satisfied he had found all there was that was of any value he rose and walked into the darkness, his brother not far behind him. He left smiling.