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  1. A wretched hive of scum and villainy. A more apt description of Port Wrath had yet to be uttered, at least if you weren't Orcish. The Orc quarter was particularly wretched. Dark figures came and went, and in a land such as Nocturnus, where lawlessness was the norm, not the exception, these figures represented the most reprehensible outlaws. The orcs simply didn't care. If you wanted to shift body parts, or deal with the Drow then this was the place. Even the Black Spire stayed away. For the most part. The docks planted their feet in a sea of blood, the water cursed in ancient times. In these waters lurked horrors unspeakable. A ratman from Skavenport padded softly towards an orc and a gorilla tracker making an illicit deal in the Alley of Chains. An orc chieftain strides towards the tavern next to his storehouse; the Flayed Avalonian. Inside the tavern, a wolf and a witch converse. Mhyrra: "The skull firsssst pup. The staff comes after." The wolf swallowed. It wasn't often that he felt nervous. The past months had involved preparing for this moment. Hunting a rarity. Claiming the kill. Not an easy task. The staff was formerly owned by the eminent, but now dead, Necromancer of Shadowmere, Krell. The skull had to be worth it. He spoke, the soft menacing growl gliding across the table: "Fenrir Bloodcloak keeps his word. The skull is yours." He placed the grinning skull on the table. "Is the staff mine?" Mhyrra hissed, fingers stretching out. "Aye, the staff is yours." Her fingers brushed the jawline of the skull. "At last, My Lord." Her head rose; "Fenrir, you are forever an ally of the Symbeline Coven. I never thought I would hold his skull in my hand. But your hunt has given me the skull of Vladivus, Lord of Shadowmere." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A freebuild to further my story. Hope you enjoy the story! C+C welcome!
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