Post by DM Betelgeuse on Apr 4, 2023 8:52:36 GMT -5
It was the early hours of the 02nd of Tarsakh, 1387DR - the year of the emerald ermine and all seemed to be within the normality of the stasis quo. Most of the residents of Gray Oaks where sleeping soundly in their beds, their minds conjuring both the most beautiful of dreams and terrifying of nightmares. It was a few bells until the even the most eager of farmers would rise from their beds and take to the fields. Not a sound broke the stillness of the night except for the symphony of animalistic noises quietly drifting from the heart of the kings forest and the chirp of nearby crickets.
One person had remained out in the fields late, planting seed and tending crop. He had been ill in the tendays before and needed to catch up or his family would not have money or food over the next season. He was working meticulously, rotating his hand tools as he needed to ensure the best plant he could. Planting was always a risk and it took a methodical mind to get it consistently right. It is unfortunate that his hyper focus had dulled his senses to the outside world.
A group of individuals crouched in tree line, their faces covered and their hands wrapped. Skilled hunters and they could remain hidden - not even a simple cloud of breath was seen of these individuals. They watched the lone farmer for many bells, waiting for the last lights of Gray Oaks to dull. They had been patient and they had calculated as many foreseeable outcomes as they could... and had planned accordingly. The individual at the front of the pack, who sported a dark cloak and a green breast plates, turned his head and nodded once to his companion. The horrific scarring up his face, signs of fire meeting his flesh, twisted repulsively as he did.
The morning broke with the cawing of the cock while the residents of Gray Oaks arose, brushing the sleep out of their eyes. The farmers pulled on their coarse, fabric shirts as they made way to the fields. A harsh scream, followed by hollering, ripped through the quiet morning air. A body had been found in the fields, staked out in a spread eagle. The corpse showed signs of "enhanced interrogation" and a piece of paper had been nailed to the corpses chest which read "Joseph Stacktower".