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About Xoco

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  1. "Aye, can do. Do we have documents with the names of those stationed here that I could use?" Douglas said, finally unfurling his bedroll, "And do we know the circumstances of their absences?"
  2. Douglas nodded, "No problem," He set up a tent of his own, a faded greyish-purple coloured. Within the relatively unfurnished tent, a rucksack stood upright, propped up by a small desk, just enough to fit some papers and a small lamp, which it did. Aside from that, the tent was empty, with no bed having been laid out yet. The advisor was quick in drafting an advertisement. It was to be placed in Aspyn, and called for carpentry and logging companies, as well as entertainers. Efficient as always, Douglas had finished the draft within the hour, and sent a raven to deliver the message.
  3. Douglas stood motionless outside on his office balcony, letting the wind ripple past him, his coattails flapping around aimlessly behind. His glasses, immaculately clean as always, were assaulted by the Bastion's winds, the sea's salty-sweet gale battling his stoic figure. Unable to topple the man, the wind wrapped around him and into his office, his papers flung in random directions, guided by the sea's breath. Reports, drafts, notices and the like floated through the air, some landing in the flames of his fireplace, some out of his window. The only thing that remained was his resignation, pinned down by an antique coin, a souvenir of his travels in this world. He'd experienced it all - or at least, all that was achievable in the world in his shoes, having travelled to damn near every corner of the world. Boredom had yet again settled within Douglas' head, an emotion that has fueled the scholar's proudest achievements, propelling him to his current standing. A persistent feeling that Douglas resented, for it was the consequence of his ever-changing philosophies of satisfaction. His notebook sat snugly in his left hand, while his right held a pen, the ink gliding across pages, detailing his resignation and his reasons, when suddenly Douglas heard footsteps echoing from the corridor beyond his office. Demands to be left alone were ferociously protested against by the scribe, and eventually the advisor caved, pocketing the resignation and stepping outside. Cane in hand, he followed the young boy to Master Knight Addison.
  4. The economic advisor leaned on his cane, speaking nonchalantly, "Aye, I'm quite aware of the difficulty the roads will be, however that's just another venue for employment. Employment attracts people, more people attract more employment, a cycle I'm sure I don't need to elaborate on."
  5. Douglas pointed towards the river that they had come in on with his cane, "We can use the river as an early path to import materials to set up a more permanent base than this mess of rags. It could also act as a means of trade with local tribes, if they exist within the forests. "Imports that we should prioritise is tools, particularly woodcutting and construction tools to set up cabins and the like. During our refurbishment of Bishop's Passage we ought to hire a few carpenters from Aspyn in order to supervise our soldiers' construction of the base and facilitate some business. Along with carpenters, I suggest we hire some entertainment from Aspyn, in order to keep morale up and again, facilitate some business. "As soon as we finish housing however, we ought to focus on paving roads. Creating more access to the outpost, will likely dissuade bandits because it is no longer as isolated. Imports will also speed up, and Bishop's Passage will be seen as a more viable place to stay. The only reason that I've chosen to prioritise housing is largely because I'm unfamiliar with the region and its weather patterns, so it's up to you to pick which stage should happen first."
  6. Snapping his notebook shut having now arrived at his destination, Douglas stood up from his seat on the ferry. A bright, scorching sun shining over vast expanse of rainforest and jungle was a region that he very much wasn't accustomed to, and upon feeling the heat decided to leave his coat within the confines of his bag. Despite his young looks and athletic frame, he carried a walking cane with him, ornately decorated with baroque patterns culminating in a wolf's head at the hilt. Adamant in his task to bring economic success to the area, Douglas began to scan the area in which they'd dock. He had already studied a map of the area while on the way to Bishop's Passage, pinpointing paths that could be utilised to bring in materials. He adjusted his glasses, pushing them further up the bridge of his nose, catching the sun's glare in a blinding show of light. The advisor to the new commanding officer Addison finally stepped off of the ferry, his boots making contact with the sand of the shore. Douglas Azelhart had at last arrived, and with him, the foundations of a new society. He swiftly made his way through the various soldiers setting up camp in order to rendezvous with Addison, looking to pitch his plans.
  7. Deciding that the tank would be basically useless against a ship that far away, Douglas drove the tank in the direction of the town hall, hoping to reinforce Howard's retreat.
  8. Now content with the pirates surrendering, Douglas had visibly calmed down. "Line up by the side of the tank," He spoke, "Look only at the forest and keep your backs facing me. If you dare even look at me, I will execute you." He let the pirates pile out of the tank, his eyes glossing over them one by one. He licked his lips and flicked through his notebook, clearly looking for something, before coming to a stop, somewhere near the middle of the book. Satisfied, he looked up at the group. "Cover your eyes and take two steps forward. If you open your eyes, I will shoot you. If you try to run, I will shoot you. If you do anything outside of my orders, I will shoot you." He hopped into the hatch and got on the gun, swinging it to face the pirates. "Even if you follow my orders however, I will shoot you regardless. I have nothing to hold you captive with, and I can't let you flee." Loud gunshots scared whatever birds who bothered watching off, while the muzzle flare lit up the shadows that the trees casted. As the smoke cleared, all that remained of the tank's crew were mangled corpses strewn among the forest's lush foliage. Douglas climbed out of the tank to inspect the corpses, before tying his suit jacket around the barrel of the gun in order to distinguish himself as a friendly. Having won his skirmish, Douglas drove the tank back to the rear line, looking to catch up with the events of the battle before using the tank further.
  9. Douglas side stepped the man’s swing, letting the club crash into the dirt. In the split moment in which the pirate was hunched over from the momentum of the club, he used his sheathe to hit the bottom of the man’s chin, forcing him to look forward at him, before impaling the man’s face with his blade. He looked at the hatch, laughing maniacally at the crew. “Oh what a misfortune! The hounds who have been released have turned up dead! How I wonder what would happen to the owners now?” He climbed up on the tank again, each step rattling the tank, and probably, the morale of the crew inside, “Perhaps I’m in the mood to spare you. Perhaps I’m not. Why don’t you come up and see?” He stood before the hatch, a sadistic smirk slowly spreading before his face.
  10. Douglas rolled to the side, and then kicked out the legs of one of the marauders. He stood up, fast, and stabbed the pirate on the ground in the chest in a smooth move, before turning to face the other, his sheathe acting as a secondary blade to parry attacks. He moved aggressively towards the other pirate, his eyes, wide in a state of bloodlust. "Very well. I see how it is," He said solemnly, his eyes scanning over his opponent. "I'm going to tear every single one of you wide open. Run my blade from gut to gullet!" He shouted. His blade glinted for a split second, producing a light far brighter than the sun could ever make his blade shine, before bringing it down on the other pirate with such force that it could make a sizable dent in the tank. The blade, propelled by his control of steel was near unstoppable.
  11. As soon as the other tank exploded, Douglas got up from the bush, dusting himself off and approaching the other tank which he had temporarily disabled. He climbed atop the tank and knocked on the hatch, his blade's facade of a cane now long gone. He wasn't worried about the pirates inside - any steel weaponry would be stuck on the floor of the tank, impossible to pick back up. "Open the hatch up, and I'll consider keeping you lads alive," He said with confidence, "You keep that hatch shut however, I'll make your deaths slow and painful. I'd be doing society a favour by killing the likes of you." Using his cane sheathe, he began to pry open the hatch, just slightly, in order to force the pirates to respond faster.
  12. Douglas eyed the two AFVs with intrigue, and slowly made his way across the rear line to get closer to them. He sat in a nearby bush and focused on the tank lagging behind the most. As Douglas laid his eyes upon the trailing tank, it began to slowly de-accelerate, coming to a complete stand-still within roughly 5 minutes. Whatever communications equipment inside that relied on metal was now scrambled. The pirates were sitting ducks.
  13. Douglas, now having finished his conversation with Addison, strolled towards the sound of the red lads’ singing, his feet matching the rhythm of the song. “Admiral Howard?” He spoke, leaning on his cane, “Addison sent me here after I inquired about joining the battle.”
  14. Douglas emerged from the safehouse, making his way into the town, now having finished interviewing several civilians. His stride was rather carefree, in stark contrast to the battle that was about to happen, making his way towards the music at the town square. He pushed his glasses back in place as he arrived before a singing Addison. "Fancy seeing you here," He remarked. "I've chatted with quite a few of the townsfolk. They helped me brainstorm the Fishmongers' possible courses of attack," He looked up from his notebook, now snapping it shut, "I'd like to test myself with what I've learned regarding warfare."

    1. Show previous comments  2 more
    2. WarCrimes


      Oh no! The monarchy, do not fear. I'll lick their bald heads.

    3. HeeHooAraxie69


      No! You can't, they'll D I E, do you want rats to be extinct???

      No. No you don't.

    4. WarCrimes


      Maybe I do, maybe I don't fuk chickz kil pigz. Maybe I fuk chickz, kill rats HUH?

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