Topic: A Deal is a Deal? Until It?s Done

Samara · Date: 2012-01-06 17:33 EST

((Author?s Note: This is a cross-over thread --- I was asked to repost this here... The original post is here! (They are identical except for the Author's Note. Samara is one of the Fangs from The Scathachian Sanctuary. This is just the beginning of the story it will continue in multiple posts and end in the Scathachian Sanctuary. If you want to join in or get confused, let me know! I will be happy to help you with... whatever! :)

To retain continuity, clarity and ensure everyone is on the same page: Samara has not been watching the Scathachian Sanctuary or the Sisters therefore she missed out on the gift that Dracina left for them during Yule. She is also unaware of any of the other Fangs that may still be located in Rhy?Din. After The Event, Sam has been spending much of her time working out a plan meant to summon her fellow Fangs back. The following is her story? It may not fit with the experiences of any of the other Fangs or Sisters. It in no way infers that I am ignoring their stories, or that their stories aren?t valid. If you have questions, feel free to ask! Thanks! Lan))

?They're daring me to kill again.?
~Aileen Wuornos

It had been months since The Event had swept the Fangs from the Ironhelm Flats, scattering them. Sam had been left behind in Rhy?Din, buried by a rain of stones somewhere in the depths of the Westend a few short blocks from the Ironhelm Flats. She had awakened after the powerful blast of pure, malevolent magic to find she was alone and trapped by unexpected rubble. She?d dug herself out only to return to the Flats and discover that her fellow Fangs were MIA ? Missing in Action. (Sam assumed that the Sisters of Scathach had been dealt a similar blow.) At first she?d waited around, hoping they would straggle back in as she had. But as days turned to weeks Sam realized that was not going to happen. Besides? she was getting bored doing nothing.

It was then that her hunt for her fellow Fangs began, and her path had at last led her to Howe. It was all part of her grand plan to herald them back. She?d met with Howe twice already, giving him her order for some rare and hard-to-find relics, instruments that would be useful in fulfilling her quest. He?d been rather obliging; obviously wanting to incur favor with Nocent and Dracina. He?d even mewled as much at the time of their previous meetings. He seemed unaware of their disappearances and Sam did not bother to enlighten him.

Then at the appointed date of delivery Howe was a no show.

When Sam went looking for him she realized that somehow? Mr. Howe had gotten? Lost. He was no longer ?employed? apparently at the firm, as they had so willingly informed her. Nor had he frequented Dickie?s of late (the information of which was harder to come by than that granted her by the firm.) In fact, finding Howe had been somewhat of a feat. But at last Sam had a lead. It had taken threats, violence, and a bit of blood spilling but in the end she?d gained what she needed.

Samara neared the massive structure warily suddenly feeling unsure if her source had been upfront with her. (Too bad the man was dead because at the moment she would have liked to kill him again.) Sam eyed the place suspiciously. It was a grand looking mansion in the upper North-Eastern edge of Rhy?Din, as far from the Westend as a soul could get and still remain in the city. The place looked very girly, perhaps too girly for a creature like Howe. A chill ran up her spine settling in at the nap of her neck as she neared the front door and every instinct she?d nurtured since growing up in the streets of Lynkestis screamed inside of her to run. She?d never experienced the like. Briefly she was stilled in her tracks as she adjusted to this new emotion: Fear. Instead of turning and fleeing as her intuition suggested Sam?s ire raised. A snarl fell from clenched lips and she determinedly headed towards the two large doors.

She knocked firmly and heard a satisfying echo bounce around inside; a few seconds later an unfamiliar older woman opened the door. The woman had to be in her sixties with graying hair and dead, cold eyes. It was the woman?s eyes that captured Sam?s attention. They were empty, as empty as those of the dead. Sam was very familiar with that look. She?d left a lot of corpses in her wake wearing that same vacant stare.

?May I help you?? the woman asked in a tone that suggested anything other than helping in mind.

?Who are you?? Samara demanded.

?My name is Mrs. Willa. Mrs. Ardeen Willa. And you? What business do you have here?? Mrs. Willa?s voice had taken on a demanding edge of its own.

?I?m looking for Mr. Howe. Is he here??

?And you are?? Mrs. Willa didn?t move instead she blocked the entry with her slight frame. She had no intention of letting Samara in. She stared at Sam with those eyes of a corpse - empty and vacant, lifeless as a doll?s.

?Samara.? Sam replied in a cold hardened voice. She could have muscled her way past the slight-framed woman but Sam felt there was something else at work here, something darker and far more ominous. Her gaze never left Mrs. Willa?s. If the creature wanted a battle of wills, Sam intended to best her.

?One moment please.? Mrs. Willa said in a monotone before she shut the door in Sam?s face.

Sam was surprised. She stared at the door then raised her fist with the intent to pound it down if she had to. There was no need as the door flew open to revel Mr. Howe looking at Sam practically a mirror of her surprise on his face.

?What the Hell??! How?d you find me?? He sputtered angrily.

Samara stared at the rotund little man with cold, unreadable dark eyes. She worked hard to keep the sneer from her mouth but it clung at the corners of her lips, a whisper of a threat, a dark foretelling of her baser thoughts. She would rather slaughter Howe like the Pig he was than continue association. But? To be returned to the heart of her fellowship with the Fangs, to Nocent?s side in particular, Sam would gladly walk through whatever Hell and back again. If it means dealing with the despicable pig Mr. Howe so be it. Still, Sam?s instincts screamed for blood ? Blood and carnage; for certainly that would ring loud enough for the others to hear her call.

?You are a hard man to find these days, Howe.?

?Obviously not hard enough!? Mr. Howe snapped in response with more than a hint of anger. His irritation at Samara?s unexpected visit was also apparent in his dour expression. Howe was certain that M was going to disapprove of this call more than he did. He would no doubt pay mightily for this little incursion later and he was still paying for forgetting to mention Belial was in Rhy?Din!

But he did have business with this Fang and, lucky for him, he had a few of the items she?d requested too.

?You missed our appointment.? Sam said coldly. ?We have a deal??

?Well?!? Howe growled ?Don?t just stand there, come in!? He moved his beefy frame out of the doorway and waved a meaty hand indicating Samara should come inside.

Samara looked over the exterior of Golden Oaks Hall. It was an impressive manse, but her instinct was screaming even louder now. Something was really off with the place. However, doing business out in the open was far too dangerous; only the Gods knew who might be watching. Paranoid and cautious, Sam did as Howe bade and reluctantly entered M?s house.

_______________________________________________

Twenty minutes later, Sam sauntered out of Golden Oaks Hall doing her best to hide her relief. At her side a bulging sack hung from her leather belt. Howe hadn?t had all the items she had requested but he?d had the bulk of them. She glanced over her shoulder at her host and gave him a mocking salute goodbye.

?Contact me when you have retrieved the last item.? Sam commanded.

?Just remember, we have a deal! An? don?t be sharing the information on my location with anybody Missy or I swear you?ll pay in blood and anguish!? Mr. Howe snapped before he slammed the door shut hard enough to shake the framing.

Sam turned her head back around, a smirk spreading across her lips. It was far more telling than the cool expression she wore. She was glad to be free of the place! Whatever was wrong with it? she had managed to avoid.

How he?d gotten his hands on the items she?d requested... that was a mystery she would likely never solve. But Sam didn?t really care. She had what she needed to set the wheels in motion.

It was time to put the next phase of her plan into action.

(Only the beginning? can you follow the clues?)

Samara · Date: 2014-04-17 22:04 EST

The Following Post is RATED MA - NSFW!

"Take your worst nightmares, and put my face to them."
Tommy Lynn Sells (Serial Killer, Body count 20-50 between 1980- 1999)

Samara left the Red Dragon Inn in a hurry. The Scathach Priestess, Isuelt, had paid far too close attention to her and Isabella, the Unseelie Fay, which had left Sam tense and edgy. It had to be tonight or more would be required and the number of sacrifices was already overwhelming. However, each death would be a token gifted to Bhaal, the God of Murder, for His Grace, and to summon the mastery of Mot, the God of Death. For Sam?s dark plan to come to fruition the two must be sated equally. Or her death may be her final gift, as the two battle one another for supremacy.

This would be quite an accomplishment should she pull it off and remain among the living. Either way it will unleash hell upon Rhy?Din. However, she would prefer to live to enjoy it then be the first to fall beneath it.

The night was shrouded in inky blackness; the sky was moonless and heavy with dark clouds. In the distance thunder rumbled and cracked; a herald to the upcoming storm. The hour was drawing near and her anticipation was palpable in the race of her heartbeat. She could already taste the blood of innocence on feverish lips.

The streets of the Old Temple District were empty and silent as she moved through them little more than a shadow among shadows. Even the nocturnal creatures had scampered for haven. Had anyone chosen to follow her Sam would have easily discovered them. It strengthened her resolve knowing this path was a solitary one.

At last she stood amidst the ruins of an ancient temple. The God or Gods it once served perhaps forgotten and surely left abandoned. It was once a sacred place, the aura of purity still clung to the scattered stones and the cracked earth beneath - Perfect for her dark deeds. The velveteen bag Isabella had given her hours earlier at the inn lay discarded on the ground. Open and empty - a gaping black hole that reflected Samara?s heart. At Sam?s feet lay the discolored, misshapen bones of what might once have been human. In her right hand she held the sacrificial blade of the cult of Mot, the long sharp edge of the blade seemed to soak up any light rather than reflect it. In her left the token the vile Mister Howe had given her ? the blooded amulet of Bhaal. A thousand pure souls had spilt their blood in violent death to bless the amulet she held in her hand. It fairly sang to Sam as she revered it.

A noise off to her right heralded the arrival of her culling. She counted the footsteps ? sixteen distinct pairs. The scent of them drifted on the dense night air, stifling and putrid, the smell of sour sweat and fear of children doomed. Sam felt no remorse only excitement for what was to come.

It was time for her to begin the ritual to summon the minions of Bhaalites lost to death?s embrace. Raising the dead was merely a diversion. If she is to call back Nocent, to regain the glory of Bhaal, she believed that filling the streets with blood would be the doorway. The gate would be unleashing the undead upon the unsuspecting city. While the Scathachian Bitches fight to restore order over the walking undead, the living Bhaalites will have a map leading them here to Rhy?Din. However, none of that will happen if she doesn?t finish the ritual and ensure her offerings are acceptable.

Sam doesn?t hesitate it was time to act. She spun on her heels and slid into the darkness of the ruined temple, the predator intent on stalking her prey.

Samara had been watching the Old Temple District for many months. She knew when the progression of the downtrodden would walk the dark paths to honor their dead. She knew when the children would be sent for their initiations. It had been a matter of timing after that; the right night when all criteria would be met.

She began at the back of the line, taking them one by one. Dispatching them quickly would not work. Instead each child was crippled and silenced before the next was taken. Blood spattered walls and swirled in dark eddies upon the cobblestoned street leaving a black trail as a wake in the passage of the children. One by one they fell, one by one they were retrieved until at last they formed a macabre circle around the misshapen bones. Small bodies writhed with pain while eyes burned with fear and tears. It was then she began her real work.

An hour later, naked and drenched in blood, in her left hand dangled the head of a young girl held tight by her golden locks, in her right the ritual dagger. The amulet hung around Sam?s neck a heavy reminder of her goal. The long blade of the knife dripped black ichor, the darkest of blood that came from severed veins. Samara sliced through the scalp of the child?s head and slowly peeled the flesh away to expose the white bone beneath. This she placed atop the body parts and the misshapen bones.

The scene was complete ? a replica of Bhaal?s amulet lay upon sacred ground desecrated by the murder of innocence?s. Foul corruption seeped into the cracked earth where once only purity reigned.

Eleven victims to mark each tear, five harvested for organs to appease the hunger of the dark Gods. They lay like broken dolls in a horrific circle of gore. The butchery was ferocious, violent and depraved. Limbs had been shorn from the ?bloody tears? and bodies gutted from to sternum to groin. The heads of the dead children were placed on the outskirts of the circle bearing silent witness to their own butchery. Their dead eyes were wide, clouded by the torment and torture suffered before the blissful calling of death?s sleep. Samara held up her arms and began the first incantation; a plea to Mot to open the portal between life and death to unleash the dead upon the lush fields of Rhy?Din's living. The second to appeal to the God of Murder to lend passage back to those lost to the shadows.

Samara felt the quake of the earth beneath her, the shift in the dense air as the first of the dead began to claw their way out of the hard packed dirt. The God of Death was appeased and had answered her summons! It would take longer to know whether Bhaal too had been sated and if the others would be returned. In the meantime, she had to reclaim the unholy items for safe keeping.

Just out of sight, hidden behind a broken pillar and half a crumbling wall was one unlucky yet still breathing soul that had watched the entire event unfold in stupefied horror. An adult tasked to walk behind the children to ensure their safe passage. He saw not Samara, the dark skinned murderess, but the visage of silver-haired elf, because of the gift from Isabella. She had magically shrouded Sam as she was leaving the inn to keep her safe from the prying eyes of Issy. He had been paralyzed to inaction, he felt the sting and burn of his cowardice but could not muster the strength to step up and die like the children.

As Samara began collecting the artifacts and putting them back inside the velveteen bag he finally managed to look away. As soon as his legs could hold him upright, he turned and fled. His intention was to find the Watch and any able bodied soul willing to go on the hunt. He promised himself they would track down that murderous elf and put an end to her! It did nothing to ease the ravages of his cowardice but it was better than ending up like the poor young children!

It was too late. By the time they would return Samara would be gone and the undead would be spilling in to the streets of Old Temple with murder in mind. Soon, blood will flow through the streets of Rhy?Din like a river beckoning the unholy back home.

((Author's Note: This storyline did not go as originally planned. For that I do apologize. There are many reasons why it did not happen. But I cannot leave things undone, so here is the FINALE. Please do not post to this -- instead create a new post or ask to join into others.

Relevant Links: The OOC: Storyline Info Here))