Gaskuratt scouted the outskirt of Cove then it came by the mortals' workshop. It hissed irritated, for them mortal were all to much like them busy bees, bussing around happily with their many tasks. And happy mortals were nyssthing but trouble..
It could put a touch to the house, and the though of all their hard work going up in flames, gave some joy to its dark existence. Hrm. But a burning building would bring nyss only the citizens, but also guardsmen and church people - and weak from its long slumber, it were nyss yet ready for the hunt that surely would ensure. There must be a more subtle way to grieve the mortals. It looked into a chest that stood outside the house. Leaflets. Many of them. Promising a life of you for those who would move to the city. More citizens. More busy bees. That could nyss be allowed at all!
The undead cackled insanely. It would add a few words here and there. Subtle words of the Guardian! Words that would bring Cove much trouble. It retreated to the graveyard to think – and write..
- - -
Hours later it returned, cackling pleased with itself. It had made false copies of the leaflets – and only the most keen eyes would see through their falsehood. The mortals would make their petty shrines, and place the forged leaflets; and thus they would bring doom on their heads by their own efforts. It were a small payment for all their crimes, but it were nyss a bad start.. By afterthought it kept two copies for further use..
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