Xenos burial case - New beginning

Time to dig a grave for these fellas.

I think this cyclops scheme is not getting anywhere anymore, so I shall quit their breeding... farewell my lads! I found a nice little box the group, and decided to add a familiar inside the box... It became some sort of biomechanical creature watching over Merchant and his thugs. So. What shall I do with these creatures? I shall give them a rest in my collection for a moment, and then probably sell them to a person who'd actually like to play some games with them. Who knows.

And, after the burial, I accidentally started a new project with much more different things to do! Surprise, damnit.

Marked men - preacher

A horseman passes by. 

"Hmph, look at that my lad. Obviously one of those crazed souls waiting the stars to fall. I'll bet ya he has nothing more in his sleeve but the urge to make even more townsmen go nuts and abandon their lives, I once saw when one of his kin came to a dusty town like these and gathered a sick group of people... And guess what. They all were butchered. I call it a butchering when you manage to wash ones brain only with your swollen tongue, and the victims starts to believe there really ain't much left to live for....  Damaged soul I'll tell ya.  - What? Haven't seen a rider yet? Listen to me lad;"

The horseman looks like an old religious creep, but in reality he ain't much older than a man at his best age. IT makes him look old. IT causes his limbs to fall off during the years, and the worst thing is he actually believes that his god beneath the stars talks him when a finger turns black and starts to grow black veins up your hand. He's giving his body to his Master piece by piece. These holy men carry their kin with them, as you can see - rotten heads hanging from the ropes... I guess the gauntlet hanging form the horse's side still has his own right hand there. I'm sure he has no more than few weeks before his body finally gives up, and a new preacher takes his place, carrying the remains of his family. A preacher like that will poison also your mind if you listen too carefully. It might be that you my lad are the next preacher if you ain't careful... Sometimes the biggest threat sounds like words of wisdom. His words are sickened promise of relief. By being unholy, he thinks he can become a god in flesh. A martyr of sorts.

Travelling from town to town is the only way for him to keep his religion alive. He must find a new apprentice before his collapsing. 

"Oi, lad! Pass me the bottle will ya?"