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Snippet #2714343

located in The World, a part of The World Beyond, one of the many universes on RPG.

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Character Portrait: Saerin Tytoh
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As the thin man positioned the tip of his blade against Saerin's chest, preparing to plunge twelve inches of steel into his abdomen, an eerie chuckling began to fill the alleyway, which was isolated quite soundly from the noise of the Arena entrance. The two brutes holding Saerin tightened their hold on Saerin's elbows, so he didn't get any ideas. The green man was taken aback, his surprise causing him to drop his arm. The man turned his back on him, exasperated. "How dare you laugh at me? In my moment of my victory, just before we leave you bleeding in this grimy shithole of an alley?" He paced in a circle three times, feeding his anger, before motioning to one of the men. Saerin's vision flashed as his cowl was removed, then a sudden pain as a fist enveloped a good portion of his hair, pulling his head back so Saerin was looking at his master directly. The green man turned instantly, resting the point of his dagger against Saerin's jugular. "What is it you find so funny about all this?" His assistant, Bartholomew, squeaked out, "He means to mock you, Lord Artur!" before being silenced by a glare from his master.

For several long moments Saerin's laughter continued, followed by a short silence. "Lord Artur? Do you wish to know what your part is in this grand play, Lord Artur?" The gems on his chest illuminated suddenly as Saerin opened himself to the spirits of the coliseum, causing the green man to throw up his hands to prevent himself from being blinded. The dagger missed anything vital on Saerin's neck, but it's arc cut a shallow gash up Saerin's chin and across his left cheek, barely missing his eye. The laughter began again, this time louder, as black blood flowed from the wound. Then, suddenly, it ignited in a blue flame that rapidly spread to envelop his head. This caused his captors to panic, and for an instant they all took a step back.

Saerin felt the rage and bloodthirstiness of the many souls who bled out in the dirt of the coliseum. Crying out in shock over having their lives suddenly ended. Crying out in frustration at losing their matches. Crying out in pain over being unable to say goodbye to their friends, spouses, children. Crying out in anger at the unfairness of it all. Saerin felt all of this emotion hundreds of times over in mere seconds. The men stepped back, for an instant. The men loosened their hands, for an instant. The men felt fear, for an instant.

An instant was all they had.

Fueled by raw emotion, Saerin broke his arms free from the grips of the men, bringing his hands down to his boots to draw his curved daggers. Before they could draw their cumbersome weapons he had brought his arms up, crossing them across his chest. Artur watched in horror then as his arms fanned out to the sides, jamming the blades into the stomachs of his cronies and twisting violently. They fell to the ground screaming as Saerin arose, his face bathed in a raging blue hellfire of the damned. Bartholomew backed up in fear before falling backwards over some knee-high crates. Artur stood, frozen, as Saerin approached, and dropped his blade to the ground. "You're part is to die, here, a rat who thought to hunt the cat." The blade came quickly, burying itself to the hilt in the man's right ear. To his credit, he maintained eye contact until the moment it came, fearful as they were. The man died instantly, but it took his body a couple seconds to realize this before he collapsed in a heap.

Saerin finished off the guards, silencing them in case the continued noise caused the people Artur had undoubtedly paid off to ignore screams of pain noticed that they belonged to two men, not the one they were expecting. But he still had some business here.

Bartholomew had attempted to hide himself among some sacks of flour, but was betrayed by his own uncontrollable sobbing and the puddle of urine that had pooled beneath him. He whimpered as the demon approached him. But suddenly, Saerin stopped.

Once you've opened yourself up to the spirits, it can be very hard to get them to leave. However, Saerin had experienced this before and began to clear his mind (with some considerable effort). Slowly, the fire illuminating his face faded, revealing a stream of red blood that flowed down the left side of his face. Then, his gemstones slowly dimmed until they were as dark as a winter's night. He was suddenly very... tired. Emotionally and physically. But he was free from their influence, for the time.

Bartholomew seized this opportunity to grovel at his feet. "Please spare me, oh great one! I was just doing what the master said, I swear it!" he pleaded. Saerin let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry. I can't have any news of this getting out." Bartholomew began sobbing anew, practically kissing his feet. "I won't tell anyone, I swear! Upon my children's life, I swear!" Saerin stared down at the man, a great sadness resting upon his shoulders. He'd seen similar men before in the past, falling into a bad crowd and becoming a terrible person themselves for the sake of feeding and protecting their families. The greatest of tragedies, becoming evil in order to do good.

"Then you should understand why I must do this. You threatened my companions, and they are not much different from children themselves." He kicked Bartholomew, who had begun to control his crying, over onto his back. They made eye contact. He sighed again. "I'll make sure they are taken care of. Enough gold to get them by."

Realizing that was the best he was going to get, Bartholomew resolved himself to his fate. He barked out directions to his home, so Saerin could hold up his end of the "bargain." He barely made a noise as the blade penetrated his ribs and pierced his heart. He died instantly, knowing that his children would at least remain fed.

Saerin returned to the other three, retrieving his second dagger. He threw his cowl back over his face, obscuring it in shadow once again (save for his bloody chin). He glanced once more back at the fourth corpse behind him, then broke for the inside of the coliseum, where Miralda and Zhyle were likely in similar situations.

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