Murder of the masses

The marsh was a harsh place to visit and even harder to live in with all the beasts and animals that lived here. The moonlight poured over the twisted and mangled trees and touched on the filthy water and dirty beaten ground. Illuminating the sickly colors and dead shrubbery with a pale glow and adding a sick feeling to the land. Dakkon had ventured here because he had caught wind of a village full of people with twisted minds praying to a god who did not exist. This assaulted every fiber of the senses and on top of that he heard tales of sacrifice going on and that was all the evil he needed to go in and cleanse the city of its madness for he was the ultimate evil and the only one who should be worshipped.

On he walked with a grin on his face and the blood of a few Naga dripping from his body. He had run into them on the way here and dispatched of them with a lethal quickness. They would not hinder his mission at this moment and nor would anyone else. He marched onward to the village until finally he saw it through some twisted and broken trees. It was a dilapidated little village however he didn't see much movement coming from within it but he could sense the evil there then again it could just be a small touch of borderline insanity for his cause that produced this feeling.

His blue eyes searched the place from his hidden position until finally as if spurred on by Blod thirst he drew a long sword he had found and moved in the direction of this so called village. As he reached the first building one of the worshipers came And with lighting reflexes the mans skull was greeted with a slash of his sword. His skull split like firewood and blood shot into the air painting the doorway a crimson red as the body tumbled to the ground in a backwards flip with the force the hit. Now more came pouring from all directions and a fire lit in the Nameks eyes as battle was upon him.


His voice rose high and with it carried a purpose and a deadly calm as he yelled to those that came running. Two more slahes found there mark in the skull of one and the chest of another. They were coming in fast and he was ready for them. He sliced the throat of one more and as he did he ducked down and spun foreword with his blade coming in low to slice open the stomach of a woman. The blood form her belly splashed his face and the warm crimson flood covered him and fell over his body staining it a beautiful red.

The woman's entrails spilled to the floor and piled there steaming in the cool night air. Dakkon stood and aimed his head for the chin of another man who had an axe raised above his head. The nameks head was hard as a helmet and proved stronger then this mans jaw as the crack of bone split the air like lighting and he fell back knocked out for a second only to be embraced by death as Dakkons blade found the heart. He smirked and savored the moment for a second until he scraped the sharp blade through the dead mans chest cavity and ribs. The blade traveled along the ground scaring it and coming up to split another woman in half.

The battle went on like this for a good thirty minutes and by the time all was said and done the only one left standing in the village was the Namek. The others had run off to hide in the swamps and would no doubt return when the Namek left. He piled the bodies of the twenty five or so people he had slain in the center of the town and took a torch to them. The flames jumped to life and consumed the dead sending a black smoke and sick odor into the air. Dakkon watched but only for a few moments before his attention was dragged to the buildings these wretches called there homes.

He set about with his torch and began to light up the buildings but only a few of them. He wanted to make life hard for these bastards and if they continued with there way of life after the display that Dakkon gave them then he would have to return and finish the job as they were beyond repair. The buildings caught fire quickly and Dakkon sat with a sick delight upon the top of one that he spared and watched the burning spectacle with much delight.

The blood soaked Namek seemed a sick messenger of death from his perch atop that house. The fires danced in his eyes as he cracked his neck and simply took in the destruction he brought upon these warped and twisted people. If there god existed should he not have come and saved them from this fate? That was the point Dakkon was trying to get across to them. Harsh times call for harsh actions. and So he sat there with a deadly calm face and watched the fires grow.

44,150 pl ki and zeni
8 bp