"I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere..."
Before Strath's death, Skrae had not been a hateful person, although afterwards hate had become the only way for Skrae to endure the countless centuries of sadness. Hate and anger drove away the depression and made him feel less empty inside and gave him the energy to live on.
Looking around at the dead bodies, the hate began to return to him. The mortals were all just trash, and if they would not accept him as a Dragonkin, then they did not deserve to live.
"I will kill them all," he said. "And then I will kill you, Koshei, for starting all this pain!"
His rampage did not begin immediately. Skrae first snuck around to each of Varrok's three gates, the only exits out of the walled city, and melted each one shut. "Tonight, these walls will not protect you from those outside them. Tonight, they will doom you to those within," he laughed maniacally.
Once Skrae was satisfied that there was no way in our out of the city, he began his inferno. He started at Varrok's palace, engulfing the castle in a holocaust of fire, and then watched the flames as they slowly drifted their way south.
He could have engulfed the entire city in mere minutes if he wanted to, but he instead chose to to let the fires carve their natural course. "You will not suffer a quick death. You will all watch helplessly for days as the flames slowly draw towards you, never knowing when death will come. You will try and fight it, but your deaths will be enevitable, and in the end you will all burn!" he roared and filled the skies with his laughter.
As Skrae was leaving the city to burn, he could see the feral dragons flying overhead, drawn by the smoke. As long as they were circling overhead, the few people that did manage to scale Varrok's walls and flee from the carnage would not live long, Skrae mused.
18-Aug-2010 22:33:52
- Last edited on
18-Aug-2010 22:36:29
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Elitemage14