Rift â€" Noun â€" A crack, split, or break. Verb â€" to burst open, cleave, divide, or penetrate.
In this case, Rift wasn’t a definition, in fact, it turned out that Rift was a man. Well. Man was such an insult. He was a Savarosian male, man in fact referred to human beings and their genus, while he was certainly not a human. Even if you were to refer to him as a man or as a human would be a large insult, and would end in some very painful times and eventually death. Eventually. Death was such a constrictive device, it all ended in the same thing, but the getting there…oh that was the fun part really. Fun for him anyways, he wasn’t sure, nor cared, if any of his victims had a fun time getting there. The men usually got off quickly, a few hours of cutting things and ripping things out of them, and that was it. Women weren’t so lucky. Of course, he would never think about his exploits.
At least not vividly anyways.
They were too special to just reminisce about at any old time.
He liked being weird.
He’d only been in this world for a few weeks now, and already he had heard things and felt things in the air. Change. Fate. Mostly fate. Something was pulling on the strings of fate, changing them, altering them, weaving them. They say when you die, you get to see the picture that all the strings of fate weave…So far though with all his deaths and the deaths he had caused, no bigger picture was perceived. Ah well. He still had to find a certain weaver out there, his own brother who could tug at magic and draw it out into long strings. Then there was his other brother, a man who could use his mind to simply move particles around. The weakling couldn’t use it on living creatures though, ones with sentient and enough mental capacity to fight back against the tugs of his powers. Then there was himself, he believed he were the greatest of them all. Able to use magic to punch a hole in the fabric of time and space, allowing him to do all sorts of thing. Mostly it was used in fighting, sadly that’s the only time he felt his gift was good. Oh and kidnapping. Open a portal in front of a person and then make the other end come out into a cage.
Deliciously evil!
However, he had thrown some caution into his ways. A third presence he could feel, one like his own and the others. He hadn’t a clue what it was, but it was close. He had gone searching. There were many…many things he could look for. A tale of a strange man preaching the word of his God and bringing brimstone and a cleansing fire reached his ears, but religion wasn’t something he was going to get mixed up in. To the far corner there was a tale of some delicious drugs in a magically abstained nation, but also the fact that they pretty much burned mages at the stake kept him away. There were other things out there, the tale of a very large, strange, and enigmatic multicoloured man wandering around and acting aloof, a shooting star crashing into the ground, and on the isles of the Necromancers there was gossip about strange mechanical devices led by a Drow. Such strange tales and rumours…but…
The presence was all he wanted to look into. Something was going on with that presence, and it had been bothering him ever since it had shown up on his scope. His brothers could wait but this little presence, this strange feeling…it couldn’t wait. Besides, his brothers, or at least one of them, already knew what he was going to do. Eventually he’d come after him, he had heard through the grapevine from this rather interesting religious group that his brother was personally involved in the…oh how did they put it? Something about being a Heretical Warmonger who sought to undermine the integrity of their organization through blatant bold face lying and abducting their members. Something along those lines, the person he had been torturing bored him so he had to deal with her quickly. Still, she had a nice body and throat…oh he had loved her throat. So soft…supple…her screams were like the choirs of angels and…
Right.
No reminiscing. The past was over and done with, no point going back to revisit it.
Currently though he found himself in a town…a quaint one at this time, full of thieves and murderers and all the low lives. Rift found a plucky young red hair that had tried to pick a fight with him…she was sitting beside him now on the floor, clothed in nothing but dirt and dried blood. She had a vacant, glassy eyed stare on her face, which was stained with dried tears from days ago. Rift had felt particularly randy that day, and having another slave well…it was almost as important as finding this new presence…which was near. He had headed to this town, because the strange presence was following him. He needed to make sure he was ready for the strange presence, and so he broke into a vacant home and set up shop. Soon.
Ah this would be delicious.
“Soon my pet, soon we’ll see what sort of fun there is for us.� Rift lovingly stroked the woman’s cheek, who just sat there, not flinching, pretty much just breathing. He would soon dispose of her, he had used her body for his ways, and found her less and less attractive, even though she wasn’t marred from any of their…activities.
He was careful after all.
