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    Fear Tactics - Solo Job

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    Ragnarik
    Ragnarik

    1 Year Anniversary- Player 
    Lineage : None
    Position : None
    Posts : 32
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 25

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Necromancy - 4th Book Of Death - Attrition
    Second Magic: /
    Third Magic:

    Fear Tactics - Solo Job

    Post by Ragnarik on Sun 15 May - 0:27

    Another day, another easy paycheck. Ragnarik had such high hopes for this job when he accepted it. The mere thought that he could get payed terrifying a few 'upstanding' citizens was just too promising. He even already started to fantasize all the different ways he could send a clear, violent and gruesome message...but instead he was told to put a worthless defanged lizard-without-legs into a child's bed. No killing, no torture, no kidnapping and not even a death threat was granted to him. While indirectly harming his enemies is his preferred style of combat, stealth usually doesn't play much of a part. In all honesty a non lethal task is the last thing he was suited for. None the less 2000 jewels was still a good sum to add to his dangerously scarce expedition fund. And so the necromancer went on his way towards the peaceful village...as a glorified messenger.


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    Ragnarik
    Ragnarik

    1 Year Anniversary- Player 
    Lineage : None
    Position : None
    Posts : 32
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 25

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Necromancy - 4th Book Of Death - Attrition
    Second Magic: /
    Third Magic:

    Re: Fear Tactics - Solo Job

    Post by Ragnarik on Sun 15 May - 0:46

    Yet another naive little settlement. No one seemed to have a single care in the world. Little did they know of the darkness that loomed over their quaint folksy ways. Ragnarik strode into town, determined to end his pathetic task as son as possible. And this time he came prepared. He had everything on him: an address, a picture of his targets and a map with all possible stakeout points marked on it. Or at least he thought he had them. Unaccustomed to bringing along anything besides what he wore Ranarik had left the small satchel he prepared at the guild hall. The mage curse under his non existent breath, before coping with the fact that he would once again have to wing it. Though this time around the villagers seemed to be more aware. As he walked down the main road he could feel the suspicious stares of passers by piercing through him. He hastily decided to escape into a small local tavern; after all it was two o'clock in the afternoon so it should be fairly empty. To his dismay what awaited him on the other side of the tavern's door were simply more suspicius glares...but this time from men and women that seemed to have seen their own fair share of fights.


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