Getting to Spicy for the Pepper

-Dalen Capital, Valade Estate. Evening, 2 DSTR-

Kline was a mountain of a man; years of combat and training had shaped him and formed his body to be lean and hard. His soul was much the same, hard and fit for war. He was not made to concern himself with subtle details, such as what was all around him in the guest house.

He looked at Lafayette, and listened to the questions, his eyes hard and filled with fury. “Van was not quick to fight, and he would not hesitate to fight a woman as much as a man. If you were w threat, your sex did not matter to him, or any of us.” He said through clenched teeth, his fists were balls of muscle tight and wishing for something to careen into.

He could hear the hounds approaching and turned to head back out of the house. He stepped into the gardens where the night air greeted him, cool and fresh. He drank in the air, trying to calm himself, trying to let the rage go, but it clung to him. A feeling as if she should just burn it all down, the whole of the city, kill everyone in retaliation. The beast called for blood.

A howl brought him around.

The handlers were getting them to get a scent. The beasts were large, black dogs, eyes glowed red with magic. Plates ran down the backs of them and he could not tell if it was armor or part of them. The dogs came up to the chest of a man when they were on all fours. Wolf like, they sniffed the ground. When one looked at him, he felt it looking through him. They were the Queen’s hounds, made to hunt prey far deadlier then just men.

If the hounds were here, then the Queen would be aware of all of this.

A priest had arrived as well, of course the church would not have been far. He was dressed in the robes of one who followed the Path of Light, and thus he prayed and served the Gods of Light. He had never been religious himself, if anything he followed Gozren, the Goddess of War, a God of the Dark.

Gozren usually was imaged on a chariot with a flaming spear. She was a goddess of Warriors and would send her crows to the field to collect the souls of the men who perished in battle. She was not like the God of War of the Light, you did not need be noble or brave, just to have shed your blood on a field of battle. She would find you a place in her hall where you could join her army. It was not a great afterlife, but for a mercenary, it was better than any alternative.

The Priest started to perform the ritual, but then stopped. He turned and looked at Kline. “I cannot summon his soul.” He said in a voice that squeaked like a mouse.

“What?” Kline responded and picked the little priest up by his robes.

“It is not here, it is gone.” He the Priest said in a voice that cracked into panic, he clearly realized his feet were no longer on the ground. “They must have taken it, it is neither here, or in the Beyond.”

“You…” Words no longer came out, but Kline had a hand around the Priest’s throat. They took his soul, killing him was one thing, but to deny his rest, his reward. His hand started to tighten on the little persons neck. He would have blood.

OOC- Feel free to stop him, or not, and feel free to develop this plot in anyway you wish. If you are in the city you can get involved.