To a forest clearing in the north, a strange scene was unfolding. Sure, in reality, it was a normal bandit attack. At the center of the turmoil was a merchant's wagon, laden heavy with goods. Directly in front of it knelt the cart's owner and his daughter, and In front of them stood the bandit leader. To their side, the other bandits were busy stripping and burying the now dead caravan guards. What made it a tad different were the merchant's obesity, which threatened to break free from the confines of his now tattered tuxedo; his daughter, whose wedding dress looked especially pitiful covered in blood spatter; and the bandit leader, who was dressed better than both of them put together. He wore spit shined knee length boots, snow white pantaloons, a resplendent military jacket, and even a powdered wig.
Let it not be said he had no shame, though, as he himself felt a bit guilty at the disparate on display here. So when one of his henchmen approached, asking "Colonel, what shall we do with them," The leader didn't have to think long before addressing the crowd.
"Let it never be said that I, Colonel Crook of the 4th bandit brigade, is a man without mercy. Beg sufficiently for your lives and I shall deign to spare you." The other bandits grinned upon hearing this before gathering around to view the show.
The girl started first, begging with tears in her eyes, "oh please, wise and humble bandit leader! Spare our lives and I am sure I can convince my fiancé, the local noble's son, to ease up on the town's persecution of you."
Colonel Crook was impressed with her begging, as it was both pitiful, informative of her potential backers, and laden with promises that would only benefit him. "This girl is smarter than she looks," he thought to himself. But before he could even deliver a compliment, the merchant suddenly butted in.
"Yes, please spare me and I shall give you my daughter in marriage. She's already dressed for the occasion, so set me free and I'll be the happiest father in law a man could have."
"What!?!" the daughter exclaimed.
"You heard me Ophelia, now be a filial daughter and do what your father says," the merchant snapped back.
"You sure pick odd times to tell jokes, father. I am already engaged to be wed, surely you haven't forgotten this fact?"
"Pew" the merchant spat on the ground before arguing back "you think that scumbag's dad will approve an inch of you without the massive dowry sitting in our wagon? Now go make nice with mister colonel here and save your father's life!"
"Father? Where? I see no father here, only a pig!" the young maiden shouts before pulling Colonel Crook's smallsword out of its sheath and shoving it deep into the merchant's heart.
"You bitch, if I knew you'd be the result I would have never married that tramp from new Athens." the father retorts accompanied by a backhand to the daughter's face. The blow is fierce, immediately knocking her down. The back of her head lands with a crack, as this clearing is quite rocky. He smiles upon hearing the sound, saying "Good, now you can join me in hades you unfilial daughter."
This proves to be the merchant's last words, as she took the smallsword with her upon being knocked down, causing blood to spray out from the hole in his chest like a fountain. The thud of his body hitting the floor as well resound throughout the clearing shortly thereafter.
Colonel Crook, his fancy outfit now stained with blood, finally said "what in hades just happened?" He turns to his men for an explanation, only to see they were just as lost as him. "Well don't just stand there. Search the wagon for a change of clothes and somebody please get me my sword already," he says while glaring at the bandit knelt by the now unconscious merchant's daughter.
Feeling his boss's intent gaze, the bandit quickly made an excuse, exclaiming "I'm trying boss, but she's got this thing in a death's grip."
"Then you break her fingers to loosen the grip. Geez, do I really have to show you how to do everything Tiny Tony. You are so lucky you are the son of a higher up, else I would have..."
Despite being quite dumb, even Tiny Tony knew the boss wouldn't end a good scolding early like that, so he quickly readied his own weapon and asked "Boss, where's the threat?"
"I don't know, but it appears to be a serious one. Defensive formations everyone," said Colonel Crook. The other bandits, having been saved by their boss's danger sense more times then they could count, immediately got in formation.
A short while later, there came crashing through the brush a large crystal horn deer. It was immediately turned into a pin cushion by the bandits' rain of arrows. Colonel Crook frowned upon seeing this, as his danger sense was continuing to grow more pronounced despite its death. "Barbarian Bob, inspect the corpse quickly!"
A large topless tattooed man quickly excited the formation and ran up to inspect the body. He even ignored the ceremonial requirements to give thanks for a successful hunt, as time was clearly of the essence as evident from the increasingly worried tone with which his boss gave orders. And, upon inspecting the body, he had an idea why.
"Boss, this buck could be considered untouchable in the forest. It is too strong for normal predators to touch, and so belligerent that even things which can kill it opt to give it a wide berth instead. And yet, this one was clearly fleeing in terror of something, you can tell from the frenzied look in its eyes."
Colonel Crook opened his mouth to both give the order for immediate retreat, as well as interrupt Bob's poetic ramblings. Before he could even get a word out, however, a certain sound from deep within the brush interrupted everything.
SHIIIING.... SHIIIING..... SHIIIING
Cold and metallic, the sound must have dropped the ambient temperature, as all the bandits found themselves suddenly shivering in response to it. "Stay close men, this might be the greatest threat we've ever faced together since founding the 4th brigade."
"Yes sir," the bandits all responded in unison as they peered into the darkness of the forest beyond them. The terrifying sound grew in volume until, finally, out stepped an emaciated butcher with a bag on his head sharpening a cleaver that was practically an axe with a honing rod. Needless to say the bandits were all pissed as, from the sound and their leader's cautiousness, they were expecting at least a chimera to show up. Only Colonel Crook was different, as by this point his danger sense's warning had grown so fierce it had given him a headache.
Unfortunately, it was this same headache which prevented the leader from noticing the rascally Tiny Tony leave formation. You ask why? Well, while Tony's thinking skills were subpar, his accosting skills were top notch. Knowing this, Tony couldn't let such a good opportunity to show off pass him by. Thus, he strutted forward and shouted at the creepy butcher, "hey old man, you'd better scram if you know what's good for you. Better yet, since you're already here, just strip here and offer all your goods to us. Who knows, we might be merciful in giving you a quick death if you cooperate."
SLUURP...
This was the response he got, as the butcher found himself struggling to hold back his drool. "Good god! Their evil is so rich! It doesn't make sense, aren't they your average muggers? How could their evil be more concentrated than a CEO's? I can see why that weird blue man called this place a vacation spot now," he thought to himself while looking at Tiny Tony with the eyes of a starving wolf in the middle of winter.
Such a gaze naturally chilled Tony's very bones but, with his brothers behind him, he could show no fear. He thus shouted again, saying "you dare offend me? How dare you offend the 4th Bandit brigade. On your knees scum, it's time for me to showcase my torture abilities." He then reached out a hand to subdue the clearly crazy man before him.
What he heard next was this crazy man saying "don't touch me," followed by a strange sound which Tiny Tony couldn't figure out the origin of. It sounded a bit like when a geyser bursts, but there was a certain squelchiness to it that made it very off-putting to the ears.
Confused, Tiny Tony turned to ask his fellow bandits "Do you hear that weird noise?" Their silence coupled with the look of shock and terror plastered on their faces alerted him that something was wrong. Tiny Tony finally looked down and discovered the source of this mysterious sound. "Ah, so that's where the sound came from. My arm just got severed," he mused to himself aloud before collapsing into the dirt like a sack of garbage.
The other bandits began to charge the butcher but, from the slight tremble of their weapons to the increased whitening of their knuckles, there where many signs which pointed to the fact that their hearts were wanting to do the opposite. Fortunately for them, their boss gave them a to do so. "Scatter you dummies! We can't take this guy, and someone must report him back to the higher ups! Go!"
The butcher clicked his teeth in response to this and said "don't act righteous in the face of death, it makes the meat taste bad." He then took a step and, with that step, he was already on the other side of the bandit mob standing face to face with their leader. Colonel Crook's pupils dilated to three times their normal size upon witnessing this but, by this point, he was already severed head flying across the clearing.
It was Barbarian Bob's turn to step up next, and he did so with gusto. "You heard the boss, now get to running you dregs! I'll hold this monster off," he said as he drew his claymore and moved to intercept. The butcher, who had developed a bad habit of playing with his food over the years, decided to oblige this tattooed bandit. Thus, he swung the hog splitter without making it so deceptive as to give this fellow a chance to parry.
And Bob did not disappoint, managing to parry a whole three times before his arms gave out. "By Zeus's beard why is your weapon so damned heavy," he exclaimed before being cut down. On the bright side, at least Bob got to say some last words. The rest of his comrades could only scream in horror as the butcher swept through the clearing, killing everyone in his path as he stepped from one soon-to-be-corpse to another.
The whole encounter lasted less than a minute, yet in that time all the grass in the clearing was painted red from spilled blood. Having finished his pre-meal massacre, The butcher dragged their bodies to a central area before lamenting a lack of spices. He then walked to the wagon with fingers crossed, but on the way he nearly tripped on Ophelia's still unconscious body. Upon turning her over to inspect the gash on the back of her head, his daughter's locket practically jumped out of the hidden pocket in his apron and embedded itself in the wound.
Not one for playing games, he unsheathed a pairing knife and thrust at the girl's head to remove the locket by force. Strangely, the head dodged this strike at the last second, as if it were pulled out of the way by an invisible force. His stomach rumbling suddenly at maximum volume now, the butcher decided to deal with it later in favor of eating as soon as possible.
But even as things were calming down in this tiny corner of the continent, the butcher's very presence in this world was busy sending shockwaves elsewhere.