For the Glory of Marchamut (Closed, PM for entry)

[Marcus]

The caravan had just began to pull out from the shadows of the mountains behind them and the Etrurian border grew ever closer. As they camped that night, Marcus called the people together to discuss his plan.

"My people," he called out, "Soon we will leave Ilia, the only land you known, for Etruria, my eternal enemy. We are here to punish them for their transgressions against me, as well their malice and foolishness. But we must be careful, for they are a powerful and cunning enemy indeed. Therefore, a direct assault will only lead to disaster. Instead, we must be clever. Our scouts have spotted an Etrurian missionary group making for the border. We will cut them off and ambush them, taking their robes and possessions. Posing as missionaries and refugees, we will enter an Etrurian town and destroy it from the inside. We will bring down their tyranny and raise my word! All hail the cult of Marchamut!" Marcus finished his speech by pumping his fist into the air. The crowd let out a mighty cheer and went about discussing the speech.

[Marcus]

As the night carried on, Marcus gathered together some of the villagers and set off in the direction of the missionaries. It didn't take them long to find the camp, as the missionaries were camped out in the open and there were several fires lit. Marcus gathered his group close and gave them their instructions. "Show them no mercy. Kill every last one of them, but try to spill as little blood as possible. We need their robes as clean as possible. Now go quietly. We strike now."

The group fanned out, moving silently towards the camp. Each man selected a tent and silently entered. There was the occasional muffled scream, but each was silenced quickly. Within minutes, the group had gathered in the middle of the camp, now garbed in Etrurian robes. They set about dismantling the camp and burning the bodies. Once very little remained to tell of the group that had been here, Marcus and the villagers returned to where the caravan was camped out.

[Marcus]

When morning came the caravan packed up their tents and headed towards the border. They had left Marcus' carriage behind and Marcus was now at the head of the group. Squire was at his side and carried an Etrurian banner with him. They made good time and were at the Etrurian border before the sun had reached its peak in the sky. They arrived at a small town just across the border and were immediately greeted by a small group of Etrurians.

"What is your purpose in coming to our humble town, brothers of Saint Elime. We have received no word of pilgrimages, nor does our church have any need for more priests."

"We are a missionary group, sir. We were attending to a village in Ilia and spreading the Prophet's word when we were attacked by a large bandit raid. We were able to lead the villagers away, and we thought it best to lead them here, where they would be safe."

The soldier seemed conflicted for a moment, but then gave a casual shrug. "Alright, you may enter. Take them to the church. They'll know where to send the refugees."

Marcus inclined his head to the man and led the villagers through the gate. Once inside the town, the church was easy enough to spot. They were greeted outside by a portly man with a smile stretching from ear to ear. He welcomed them into the church and sat them down at a large table. They were fed, then shown to an area where they could set up they're tents for the night.

As the day faded to night, Marcus sat conversing with Squire. "It's kindness like that that's going to make it hard to kill him."

"Kill him? But he has done anything to us!" Squire protested.

"He's Etrurian. His people have wronged me, therefore he has wronged me," Marcus replied, almost sagely.

"But he's so nice! Can't we spare him?"

"I'm afraid not, Squire. It's hard I know, but the cult demands it. Now get some rest. This city will be cleansed soon. However, I don't want you anywhere near the battle. When I wake you next, I want you to find a safe place to hide. Understand?"

"Understood, lord Marchamut."

Marcus smiled, then went to inform the villagers of what was to come.

[Marcus]

Marcus took a very strategic walk through the town, noting guard patrols, positions of guard towers and the overall layout of the city. With that committed to his short-term memory, he returned to the villagers and began separating them into groups. He assigned them each a section of the city and gave each group a leader. He brought the leaders together to give them their instructions.

"The plan is very simple. Murder everyone."

"That's it?" One of the leaders replied.

"Essentially. Feel free to throw in some pillaging and ransacking if it meets your fancy, but the general theme tonight is murder everyone. Everyone understand?"

He was met with a chorus of ayes and then continued. "Good. Now get to it. The night is young and our blades our dry. We begin on my signal. You'll know it when you see it." With that, he dismissed everyone. He found Squire and woke him from his sleep. The boy awoke quickly and went off to find a hiding spot.

With everything in place, all that was left was his signal to start. Marcus threw back the hood on the robe he was wearing and pulled out his dragonstone. Releasing its energy, he felt his human form melt away and become his true dragon form. Smiling, he let out a loud roar and wave of lightning from his mouth, lighting up the dark night. His revenge had begun.

[Marcus]

Marcus' first target was the main barracks for the town. If he could kill the soldiers there, it would be much easier for his villagers to kill the remaining Etrurians. While they would still have to deal with the guards roaming the city, there would be significantly fewer trained soldiers for the untrained villagers to skirmish with. As he moved closer to the building, he could see a few shapes shifting inside, but they did not seem ready for an attack just yet. Most were moving from window to window to try and get a grasp on the situation. The moment was ripe for Marcus to strike.

He surged at the building, bringing up one clawed hand to strike. He brought it down through the wall, creating a gaping hole and bringing down a section of the ceiling. Several of the men inside looked up in fear and many still laying in bed had just awakened to find their nightmare staring them in the face. Marcus let loose a burst of lightning into the building, hitting several of the soldiers closest to the windows square in the chest. They were scattered across the floor, convulsing and screaming. Several more lept up to fight their attacker, but were eviscerated as Marcus began sweeping his claws back and forth. Three of the men towards the back managed to grab their lances and charged at the black dragon. Two split off and went at Marcus' hands, stabbing for the palms. Marcus reeled back on his back legs, just long enough for the third soldier to run up and land a glancing blow on his belly. The soldier was crushed as Marcus' forelegs bore down on his back. He turned back to the other two and fried them with another volley of lightning.

Looking to finish the job quickly, Marcus took a wing-assisted jump onto the roof of the barracks. The weight was far too much for weakened infrastructure and the remainder of the roof crashed down on the soldiers trapped within. Bloodlust had kicked in at this point and Marcus began to move on the rest of the town with a feverish and sickly grin.

[Marcus]

OOC: www.youtube.com/watch?v=wrjQdIsDYUA

Marcus turned his attention next to the market. With his blood rage in full swing, events flashed by his eyes, before he could fully process them. One moment he was sending a cart flying with a swing of his hand and the next he was chasing down a group of screaming civilians. At some point, someone had set fire to a building and it had spread to the neighboring houses. Bodies lay everywhere and in this state it was to hard for Marcus to keep track who was who. He just continued to kill and get his revenge. He sent a man screaming from his house to land several blocks away. Marcus burst through the roof and landed on the neighboring building, bringing the roof down on its screaming occupants.

This pattern continued for almost an hour, with Marcus slaughtering the city's occupants and laying waste to everything in sight. As his blood rage began to fade, Marcus found himself back in front of the church. He let most of the energy surging through his body fade. He allowed a little bit of energy to remain as he stepped into the church. The steeple and most of the roof had been torn off and rubble lay everywhere. At the back of the church, the priest who had taken care of the villagers lay against the altar, his leg pinned by rubble. As Marcus approached, he raised his head and opened his eyes. When he beheld the monstrous man approaching him, his eyes flew wide open.

"What are you?" the priest stammered.

"The dragon shrouded in darkness," Marcus replied drawing his bone dagger.

"You're a monster!" The priest shouted.

"I know," Marcus said, and slit the man's throat.

[Marcus]

As Marcus stepped out of the remains of the church, the last of his rage slipped away. As his mind finally cleared, he was finally able to see the destruction that lay before him. The city lay in ruins. Fires were raging. Bodies were scattered everywhere, both Etrurian and cultist. And among it all, nothing moved. As Marcus walked the streets, it rapidly became clear to him. Everyone in the city was dead. The soldiers. The women. The children. Even the villagers he had brought with him. They were all dead. And he was willing to bet a vast majority of them had died at his hand.

Marcus fell to his knees as they revelation hit him. He truly was a monster. He had caused the deaths of many, from the Etrurians he despised to the villagers who had worshiped him as a god. And what had it accomplished? He couldn't even answer his own question. All he could do was slowly shake his head. A set of footsteps slowly approached Marcus from behind.

"Lord Marchamut?" A shaky voice called out.

"Yes, Squire?"

"What happened?"

"A lesson was taught here today."

"Do you think the Etrurians understood it?"

"The lesson wasn't for them, Squire. It was for me. And I learned it well."

"What happens now, Lord Marchamut?"

"We leave this damned place. And do me a favor. Just call me Marcus. Now c'mon, let's go," Marcus said rising. He placed his hand on the boys shoulder and led him out of the city.