A Shadow and a Doubt: GM Story Lead in #3

Even days after the festivities, after the royal council had been adjourned, after the waves of awe hungry tourists had started to sift out of Inlakes, the streets were still busy. Merchants bellowing out last chance offers, Minstrels offering to play any and all songs. The shouting and stomping and singing made it almost impossible to hear the sounds of a man screaming in the alley behind the abandoned alchemy shop.

He fell against a barrel full of rain water, spilling it onto the cobblestones, slipping and hitting the ground in agony. Blood poured from the side of his broken face. Again the metal club stuck home cracking him across the eyes, and no doubt fracturing his skull, judging from the sound of the wet impact. He had stopped trying to fight back ages ago.

The dark figure knelt down over him and lifted him out of the puddle he had made with one had. His body was slammed against the wall, and once again he was face to face with the dark figure. Why could he not make out his features? He looked him dead in the eye but for the life of him couldn't tell what or who he was seeing. He told himself it was the blows to the head he had suffered. Everything was a wet blur now, and his mind was clearly racing.

"I've been sweet till this point friend, now loose your tongue or so tempt me to get nasty, worm."

The voice was like listening to two or more people talk at once. Was it male or female? It could not be human, that was for sure. He started thinking about his father, and about his childhood. He starting imagining himself up in a tree. He was swinging for some reason. This train of thoughts bothered him.

"Your a sick twisted lout, and the Castle guard will do you what for..." His words popped and gurgled out of his broken jaw. Teeth swaying and hanging loose like willow branches. The effort to speak hurt more than he could have imagined.

"Then you leave me no choice. In life so do you fight for reasons unknown, but in death there will be no withholding" It's smile was like the last sliver of a fading moon.

For no more than an instant Wilder thought he recognized the face he was staring back at. As he lifted the polished gleaming silver club back above his head for the final blow, He looked like someone he had met before...Someone everyone should know. Back home....

"Who....are..yo-"

Wilder Redstones body folded under the impact of the blow. His skull now in pieces, his neck bones rattled like chains. His body dead weight spilling out crimson stink into the flooding alleyway.

The figure needed not wipe off his weapon. The blood simply sizzled away like oil in a pan. He knelt down and began stoking the dead minstrels blood soaked hair. Lowering his hood he began to whisper to the fading ghost inside this shell.

"Call me Wolf. Now tell me all about the friends you have lead away from me"