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[Jonars] Extinguish the Flame

Jormund's picture

What happened to the hunter after the pray was caught? What happened to the fire when there was no more fuel? What happened to a cause when finished? When their life long mission was finally accomplished? Did the ones involved would lay down their arms and return home? Did they just fade and disappear under the so fabled sands of time? Or were they doomed to wander aimlessly without purpose begging for a merciful hand to end them?

Nobody knew for certain. The hunter might find another pray, the unchecked fire might find something else to burn.

"Master?" a frigid voice pulled Jonars away from his thoughts.

A skeleton, nobody in particular to Jonars merely a tool he raised to use for a few moments, dragged a person towards him and threw him almost effortlessly at the death knight's feet.

"This is the last one, master." the skeleton says looking down at the curled up human.

He was old, there was traces of white hair over his otherwise brown. He wore a plated armor, red-colored, the colors of the Scarlet Onslaught on a tabard covering his breastplate. He was shaking, not only from the freezing cold of the north but also because of terror Jonars had been inflicting on him and his group for the last couple of weeks.

"You are the last one old man." the death knight said as he looked down on the curled up scarlet as he took up his runeblade placing it on the prisoner's back. "Any last words?"

The prisoner looked up at him, tears flowing on his cheeks as he faced Jonars. A mix of last minute defiance and fear.

"D-d-damn you!!" he blurted out with a trembling high-pitched tone.

The skeleton started clattering its jaw making a horrible sound, almost resembling laughter. Jonars's visage stood inscrutable, unchanging.

"A very poor choice of words." he said his tone completely neutral as he lowered his runeblade striking down on the scarlet.

The prisoner's head rolled leaving a trail of blood over the snow, while it pooled all over his corpse.

"Put it with the rest of the pile and burn them."

Nobody would come to resurrect them, they were nobodies. Little embers, remnants of an already dying flame. Well... they might see their wish granted and burn for one last time. Without any further delays, he ordered the skeleton to get into the pyre as he climbed up to his armored skeletal gryphon.

He had reports of recent activity in the Onslaught Harbor. Hopefully they'll make his job easier and converge in a single spot...