Massacre at the abattoir

Varvo and the minions arrived at their destination: a butchery in the eastern part of town that offered the rarest of meat, from the most tender veal to the most delectable venison, even human flesh was offered at this certain abattoir.

Ravens flocked to the barren trees near the shop. They cawed in disharmony as they perched on the frostbitten branches, disrupting the unruffled silence that hung in the chilling air. In the blink of an eye, the birds hailed down and engulfed Varvo and his men on the verge of entrance, drilling them with a flurry of ceaseless pecks.

"Damn these pesky birds, what's wrong with them?" Varvo ranted as he countered the storm of beaks with his sword. The minions endeavored to dilute the vicious attack; however, it raged and intensified.

At the peak of fury, Varvo drew a flamestone from his cloak and ignited a small flare that dispersed the corvids. The group dashed, barging into the place, and shut the door with a snap.

"It's you, Varvo!" The butcher greeted Varvo with a rapacious smile. "I've been expecting you for a long time, you know? So, what's in the sack?"

"Something that might get you a good offer."

"You don't mean that's... a human corpse?"

"Right on point. A Sabelian one, to be exact."

The bald butcher scuttled from his place and crouched. He untied the sack and peeled it away from the cadaver. It exuded a mild reek, one that enthralled his nostrils. He ran his fingers along the body, inspecting it with a watchful eye.

"Hmm, it still seems to be in superb condition. I could afford to pay a considerable amount for such a banging deal." He rubbed his hands in sheer excitement and exposed a set of yellowish teeth. "How does two hundred Imperio sound?"

"It's a bit shy of my expectations. Toss in an extra hundred, and we have ourselves a deal."

"Oh, I promise you won't get a better offer, but I don't see a body in such a banging state every now and then." He sighed. "Okay, you've got me; three hundred it is, but not an Imperio more, got it?"

"A deal's a deal." Varvo said.

The butcher rose and scooted, reappearing with a brown pouch. He tossed it at Varvo, who caught it mid-air.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you." Varvo said, "I hope we can make another negotiation soon."

"Well, I'll be expecting you," the butcher replied.

The men departed, leaving the gratified meat merchant with Ryr's carcass. Just as Varvo approached the doorknob, the door swung open with a crashing bang, which he dodged in a split second and revealed a hood figure with a titan of a sheathed sword fastened diagonally around his back.

"Oy, what's the matter? You almost hit me!"

The faceless intruder stood motionless, uttering nothing more than eerie silence.

"Hey, answer me!", the victim boomed, raising a tightened fist at the stranger.

He remained silent, ignoring the question.

"Can't you hear me? If you don't have an answer, then I have one for you!"

Varvo launched a swift blow at him. The nimble man ducked and evaded the hit. He retaliated with an uppercut to the assailant's chin. He flinched and staggered, fainting from the overwhelming response.

The minions drew their swords and lunged forward one after another, while he resorted to his own colossal weapon, engaging in a trade of ruthless slashes.

"Stop!", the shop owner exploded; however, the clash of steel suppressed his cry.

The intimidated butcher abandoned the site and dashed further into the butchery. He hid behind a wall, popping his head out by an inch or two, and observed the hustle from a safe distance.

Streaks of crimson stained the floor as the horde collapsed in succession, several wounds piercing through their grisly bodies. A hush pervaded the air. The hooded figure stepped over the slain. He ventured inside, and the butcher cowered in fear, concealing himself from the bloodstained menace.

"There's no reason to hide. I'm here for business."

The butcher's lips were stitched as he crept further in.

"Look, you don't need to be afraid. I bear no ill towards a coward,", he said as he gained on the fugitive, who stretched his arms, reaching for the nearest cleaver in his sight. But his endeavor concluded in a miserable fiasco.

"I don't know who you are or what you want with me; just leave me and my shop alone!" he squealed as his trembling lips parted. "You made a bloody mess, and you're ruining my precious business!"

"Say the one who slaughters for a living."

"At least I do it to satisfy others, unlike you!"

He released the shivering merchant and sighed.

"How much for the corpse?"

The butcher mustered a shred of courage and pushed it up his throat.

"Two thousand and a half thousand, Imperio!"

He stated this, shutting his eyes after realizing his absurd claim. A firm grip coiled around his wrist, and he felt a hefty bag stuffed into his palm.

"Here's three thousand," he breathed with a calm, warm voice, drawing himself away from the butcher's ear.

The man lifted his eyelids and gaped, unable to convince himself. He gazed at the figure who entrusted him with the payment.

"Keep the change. Consider it as compensation for the damage."

He covered the stiff corpse and slung it on his shoulder, bending it in half. The butcher yearned to speak, but the anomalous massacre staged in his tranquil abattoir dried up the words in his mouth.

The hooded figure retired as he hummed a euphonious tune. Out in the open, a mass congregated. Their eyes, stirred by a concoction of fear and abhorrence, latched onto him as he trod the streets, however he was immune to the manifest scorn that emanated from their impressions. The swarm part as he proceeded at his steady own pace.

The ravens who surveyed him as well, swooped down from the trees, and tailed him as he traveled while circling his index. One certain member of the flock hovered near his left and perched on his vacant shoulder, shrieking in delight.

"Glad to know I'll have you guys wherever I wander," he warbled.

The birds responded with a substantial ensemble of caws as they migrated south, leaving the decrepit, frosty town behind.