The Pleasure Corner was alive with revelers. Music poured from within. The Rakdos band consisted of three rather large men striking severed limbs against a large metal and a woman screaming at the top of her lungs to the beat. Behind them goblins chittered and squealed and blew into all manner of horrific looking horns, both the instrumental kind and those from a beast's head. In front of the stage, cultists thrashed in the massive pit, loudly screaming and harming each other. Iron chains smeared with all manner of bodily fluids hung from the ceiling, providing the smaller cultists with a place from which to see the stage, or a place to hang on iron hooks. Goblins were thrown, toward the banners and spikes on the walls. Ogres and some more athletic humans delighted in the Pleasure Corner's most notable game, gob-toss. The thrower with the most kills won the right to throw any of his fellow competitors at the wall spikes. Above the pit was the bar area. The bar was large; it boasted a decadent plethora of bottles. Rakdos beverages came in two categories: alcohol and bodily fluids. Across from the bar there was a group of tables, most of them were broken and/or served as some cultist's final resting place.
"The Sin District finally belongs to us," Nilix, also known as the Storm of Blades, threw his mug into the air. He poured its contents down his throat and slammed it down breaking it and the table. Nilix was a dangerous swordsman but in battle he was near undefeatable with his daggers. Of which he had plenty. Across his many belts hung daggers of all shapes, all of which still stained with blood from their most recent use. The Ringleader was pale and boasted many scars and almost no fat. He was roughly six foot tall and his mass of knotted brown hair extended in a braid to his lower back where it ended in a collection of skulls from Ravnica's many various races. He was sparsely adorned with iron armor. His gauntlets reflected the light of the fires. On his neck was a jagged metal collar that came to a point over his left shoulder. Like many cultists he sported a black and red stripped pair of baggy trousers. On his plethora of exposed flesh, metal piercing seemed to jut out at random. He leaned to Denali and kissed her, violently twirling his tongue as he did. They both had sharp tongue jewelry that scratched at the interior of each other's mouths, just the way they liked it. "And it's all thanks to you dear."
Denali cackled loudly and tossed her drink into the dance pit. "I'd be nowhere without you hon." Equally tall as her lover Denali was even older, somewhere in her mid-thirties. It was hard for a Rakdos to know her own age when every night is lived like her last. As if opposite of her lover the female Ringleader had short fiery red hair. Its only length was in the front which covered the right side of her face. Where Nilix was a physical combatant she weaved spells of fire and malice. Her favorites were those that either violently maimed a person's mental faculties and those that did no damage but only cause severe burning pain throughout the body. A well-endowed woman, Denali was arguably the most beautiful woman in the Cult of Rakdos. According to nonRakdos Ravnicans she would be a stunning figure if she didn't adorn herself with chains and the blood of those who stood in her way. She too wore little, a simple set of jagged iron boots the same striped trousers and a very immodest top patterned with black and red checkerboard. Known by the populace as the Banshee, she instilled fear into her victims while rousing her ring into a frenzy. Her favored weapon was a multi ended whip. The ends were tipped with a variety of spells, poisons, and curses for as she liked to say 'added fun.'
Together, Nilix and Denali were a force to be reckoned with. They lead their ring, the Hazard Party, better than most Boros battalions. They were strategic though chaotic at times, they knew when and where to unleash their party. The ring members seldom complained. Their leaders always had a party planned before any of them grew bored. And the Hazard Party riots and parades always proved fruitful. They gained territory and the respect of other Rakdos with each successful slaughter.
The Rakdos couple grinned a toothy menacing grin. Hygiene was not a virtue among Rakdos members. "Everything belongs to us! We are the Hazard Party Ring! We are running the show!" The cultists jumped and shouted at their leaders. The Pleasure Corner club was exploding with deviant glee. The band increased its volume to a near deafening level.
A pale skinned man adjusted his pants as he walked down from the stairs nearby the ringleader's table. The words "LUST PARADISE" were crudely written next to an arrow pointing upstairs. Like most Rakdos, he was clad in leather belts and metal chains twisting around his body. Unlike most cultists he wore a horned mask. The red painted mask had a grinning demon face painted on the front. The face was crudely drawn and very cartoonish, though still entirely disturbing. Its asymmetry was odd. Its horns twisted from it mimicking those of Rakdos himself. He wore a tattered scarf with a checkerboard pattern; it winded around his neck and spilled over covering his shoulders and loosely wrapped around his torso. His shredded brown trousers went to his knees, from then he had sharp metal boots extend to his feet with similar gauntlets on his arms. A pair of vicious looking blades dangled from his waist.
He grabbed the seated ringleader by the shoulder. "You'll never have any real fun with the Boros sitting in your district." The man's voice was like rubbing two jagged rusty pieces of metal together.
Nilix shoved the man off him and gave him a chuckle. "We'll never be free of the Boros, idiot. The more we kill the more they send. I'm pretty sure there are infinite Boros boys for us to kill." He turned to his wife and asked, "What number squad we on anyway?"
"Six? Seven?" She brought a finger to her chin in a mock thinking pose. "Ha remember the last one with all those minotaurs?" She cackled with sadistic delight, "They couldn't outrun a measly fire. Though I suppose we made it a tad hard when we had the spikers hold them down and the rats eat their feet. HAhahahaha!" She put her hands against her head and pointed her fingers out like a minotaur's horns, "Moo! Help us! Moo! Oh it burns! MOOOOO! Not the rats! Moo! Moo!" Her cackling overtook her imitation and she fell back from her chair with a happy squeal.
"Your problem is you only kill the ones they send you. You are cutting of the arms when you should be stabbing the head. Come with me to their headquarters. Help me destroy it and the Boros problem will be eradicated for good. They will never interrupt this party again. The fun will last forever."
"HA! Go with you? I'm pretty sure we just said we're the ones in charge around here buddy." Nilix lifted a dagger from his collection, and grinned at the masked man, "Besides Boros are much tougher on their own turf they have all those flying squawking things, we'd be stupid to attack a Boros station. Count out the Hazard Party it's a waste of time we could be using to have another festival." Nilix could tell he had enraged the masked man. He laughed into his reflection on the mask. Nilix gripped the hilt of the dagger, ready to plunge it into anyone who moved.
"So you don't think it can be done? Some ringleader you are. What's the point in running a ring if you can't kill the police?"
"We do kill police!" Nilix stood swiftly and brought his weapon through the masked man. The dagger jabbed into his gut and tore upwards until it clinked off of the mask. The man didn't flinch; he only reached up and grabbed the dagger by the blade. The nearby cultists stopped thrashing about and gazed in demented anticipation. Nilix's grin widened, "Hahaha! Wow, not even a twitch. You must have ice in your veins! Except…what's this? This doesn't feel like ice!" the ringleader shoved his fingers into the gaping wound. "Denali!"
"Gotcha hon!" quicker than anyone could notice the female ringleader rushed behind the masked man. From her hands, several thin barbed chains extended behind her and wrapped the masked man by the neck. "And I got you too!"
The masked man rammed his head into Nilix's. He staggered back but lost grip of his dagger. The stranger spun the dagger as he leapt backwards toward Denali. She released her grip on the chains and dove out of the way, but he brought the dagger down into her arm. Blood spurted into the air and he hit the floor with a loud thud. The area was silent for an instant and then the club roared and cheered.
A light noise came from the masked man, almost like a cough. It grew and grew into a maniacal laugh. Nilix sat up, his nose was pouring a lot of blood; Denali ripped the dagger from her arm, and they exchanged a quick glance. Their enraged faces quickly turned to maniacal glee. The three all roared with laughter as the other Pleasure Corner patrons shouted. "Alright you convinced me. You two have what it takes to run this district."
"We didn't really ask for your approval." Denali crawled towards Nilix and licked the blood from his lip with a soft moan.
"No you didn't need to." He clasped his hands together. "I tell you what! I like you two! A lot! And I'd like to join the Hazard Party."
"He does seem to know how to party dear," Denali whispered sensually. "I think we should let. him. in."
"So do I, but first he has to do something for us. Tell you what Masked Man since you're so interested in the Boros in Sin District, you can kill them! Kill them all and we'll make you the official head of slaughter!"
The masked man thumped his hand against the ground letting out another laugh. "Head of Slaughter? I like the sound of it. I'll wipe this place free of those meddling Boros."
The three leapt to their feet and Nilix grabbed the man's hand. "Deal! One membership and a pointless title for a thousand dead Boros. But tell me this before you die in a fiery mess of cop magic. What do you go by? I need to know what to carve into the wall of lost Hazards." He shoved a thumb towards a wall covered in twisted scribbles from every party member that had died since they changed walls once the old one had become full. The crowd roared with laughter.
"I don't have a name. I'll let the Azorius pick one when I slaughter every last Boros in the Sin District!"