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It is said, by those who speak of such blasphemous things, that the Kageroth Mountains were once home to a coven of witches. Long before the arrival of the Crystal, these primordial beings practiced dark blood magic to appease their eldritch deities. The pagans bathed in the blood of countless innocents over millennia, eventually staining the earth beneath the pearlescent snowy mounds a dim rust color. There are artifacts, trinkets and ruins that hint at the existence of these pagans and their fell rituals, but little more than conjecture exists to validate such tall tales.

Regardless of one’s belief in fables of sorcery and otherworldly joo-joo, there is—without a doubt, a quiet power within the mountains of Kageroth. The Masons attribute it to an aberration of the Crystal’s light, others believe it is the spiritual remnants of the pagan gods locked in eternal death throes. The prevailing feeling amidst most Alterians is that whatever the source of the power, it should be put to use. Indeed, the Daius Syndicate built and maintains Kageroth Prison to this very day—locking away Alterion’s most vile and corrupt scum.  Yet, deeper in the Kageroth Mountains than most living souls dare tread there is a site...pristine, considering the eras that passed it by.

 It is bereft of nature, with an ever present blanket of pristine white powder stretching across its surface. A massive stone henge encircled an impossibly large monument. Monolithic in proportions, the vast stone structure rivaled the surrounding mountains in sheer size and bore alien glyphs and runes, etched upon its surface. When the light struck these runes, it fragmented and beamed against each individual stone below, alighting a variety of prisms.

It is known that something lives within this monolithic structure, bound by forces beyond nature’s power and man’s comprehension. Whatever beast lays buried in the depths of Kageroth Peak, it stirs and beckons souls forth.


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"Get your nose out of the dirt, shithead." The man growled, hocking a wad of phlem at the prostrate youth. "You ready to pick your worthless ass up and get the fuck out of my camp; go back to the fucking depths of Xaengri-La?" A ham sized fist jerked to a pair of Althane youths, bloodied and breathing heavily. "Or do you want me to let pantywaist and softcock have another go at you?"


Down on his hands and knees in the muck, Janos hauled himself up, his legs staggering to catch and support him. "I'm not going anywhere. If those benders wanna tongue my balls, they’ll have to get in line behind your father.”  The man’s spit still clung to Janos’ scaled brow, but he made no move to wipe it free.  The retired soldier was twice the size of Janos and motivated more than any in the encampment to see the Althane cadet gone. He'd broken Janos a month before and sent him packing into the wastes of Xaengri-La to die or ascend and return a soldier. It was not unheard of for a recruit to return and earn his place, but it rarely happened within a year, let alone a month. Janos' premature return was an insult to this veteran warrior, his mere presence indicated that the superior officer had erred in dismissing him. Sausage sized fingers curled and slammed into  Janos' jaw, but the Althane kept his footing despite the world somersaulting around him.


Janos bared his teeth, paying no mind to the taste of blood that filled his mouth, or the warmth that dribbled down his chin. "If I wanted a kiss...I'd call your mother.


The ham sized fist caught him beneath the sternum and drove every last iota of air from his lungs.  Suddenly, it seemed more boulder than pork product. Gasping, Janos didn't remember doubling over, but he rose to his feet again, all the same. Standing with his arms at his side, Janos jutted his chin out, daring the instructor to strike him again. 


The soldier grimaced and nudged his horned crown in the direction of the encampment. "Fuck off to the barracks, cadet shithead. You, pantywaist and softcock earned yourselves a mission, bright and early tomorrow morning. 


The cold darkness was upon him in a rush, draining all the warmth from his bones. Janos wriggled against his bonds, the sounds of metal scraping against stone serving a reminder of his predicament. Not for the first time, he tested the strength of his chains and felt the eldritch alchemy wardings holding firm. He'd lost track of time since his imprisonment, whatever bound him also served to keep him alive, despite the ravages of time and the fickle whims of nature. There was little to do but relive the past and weigh choices made against those abandoned.

Perhaps that was the nature of his torment?

Whatever its purpose, it could fuck off and never return. Bound as he was, Janos could barely lift his head above his shoulders and kept prostrate with his wrists between his knees. In times of great discomfort, Janos could roll into his side and let his knees rest from beating his full weight, but doing so usually placed his wrists in a strained position that was equally frustrating to bear. Someone who delighted in the pain of others had designed this hell and in a way, Janos almost admired them.

Not enough to keep from skinning them and their loved ones alive whence freed, but still...it was something.

The prison bound his physical form and dampened his preternatural abilities, but it could not begin to scratch the surface of his pride. It was the law of numbers, somehow, someway, one day he would be free of this pit and when he was, woe to the world that he greeted him.

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S0U42hL.pngCosanastre: Lessertown.                           

You never feel clean in the slums. No matter how much you shower, wash your hands, or wipe your brow - you're never clean from the muck and stench permeating the dank air. 

The people stunk of a stench that just clung to the inside of your nose and made your tastebuds shrink violently away. These people, the Lessers as they are rightfully called, look like someone kicked them down so low that it made little difference to them if they died in the shitstained streets. A product of their own surroundings, Lessertown and the Lessers that occupy its streets, paint a perfect picture of absolute disgust. 

This picturesque bit of the Holy City of Cosanastre would be the welcoming carpet for the group. As most underhanded doings do, the news of someone looking for someone to do a little something for them spread like wildfire. The need and want for money is often high here, and because these people don't care how far they have to travel on their knees to get a coin, one is constantly supplied with disposable bodies. Makes things of the dangerous kind easier, especially because no one will be missing or caring about a Lesser. 

The meetup place is some kind of dilapitated home that had once been occupied, but no more. Dirty dishes gathered dust in the rusted sink; the windows are unwashed, covered in a thick residue; the foundation itself is bowing in the middle, causing the walls to crack and the roof to unhinge around the corners. She would have picked a tavern, but those placecs are often too full with nosey, eager people needing to fill their fly encrusted pockets. Plus, the idea of eating or drinking in any of those places made her stomach hurt. 

She sat in a chair in the middle of the room, with one long leg perched atop the other, and hands delicately sitting in her lap. The iron mask she wore hid common features, like a plain nose and slender lips. It's obvious that she is a woman, on a mission. Thrown lazily over her right shoulder is a braid of chestnut hair, a color that would match her hidden eyes, and woven in the braid would be various little strands of color. She stood out as much as the next person wandering through Lessertown. 

There she waited patiently for the newcomers to arrive with their demands. She had left out as much as she could about the mission, not that it would matter to be honest. Money, an airship, some lazy promise of pride - a trifecta of needs that'd tempt anyone. Prepared to do business, the woman knew that depending on what walked through that leaning door, this discussion will either be quick and painless or extremely tedious. Whatever the battle may be, she is prepared with pockets lined.

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Yet another job that would have him and his companions at blades point no doubt. The details of what was to come were scarce and thus was why Dazkar was here in Lessertown. Emerald optics peered out across the dirty streets as he observed ruffians of various standing. Sauntering swiftly through the dirty ground his bare feet caressed the dirt paved ground with ease. He was quite grateful to have natural body armor around his hands and feet, the dragon-like scales provided much protection. The Nelrosis stood as a gargantuan figure among the hume who inhabited the streets of this town. The location of meeting was some place closer to the out skirts of the town due to its run down description. Dazkar stretched his arms lightly allowing his muscles to rippled beneath the silk shirt that lightly clung to his muscle bound torso. 

Pressing forward Dazkar wasted no time in find the location, stepping past broken buildings and traversing broken bridges within town. The more Dazkar observed the city as he walked, the more it reminded him of Avylon besides the obvious factors... There was a lack of Nelrosis and in the same breath there was a lack of any suitable fighting challenge on a 1 to 1 basis.. These ilk seemed keen on out numbering and overwhelming their enemies unless they were a fair bit weaker than those whom sat atop the bum ladder. The next was the stench that many let off was not beneficial to their own personal health, but at this point he doubted they carried about it that much.. Turning a run down corner he found a sunken in roof top that looked ready to collapse at any moment. Narrowing his gaze the man strolled to the nearest hole in the wall. Bowing his head ever so slightly he pushed himself to and through the wall to stand adjacent to the seated woman. 

There was a firm moment of silence as his messy spiked back hair ruffled in the gentle breeze that passed through the broken down walls within. The hair was an immense contrast from Dazkar's skin, being white in pigment and ebony in skin tone he might have looked old. To others who understood the Nelrosis breed the look was far from truthful about their own age. Stepping forward he bowed his head lightly before taking a seat on the opposite end of the table. "Greetings... I understand there is a Mission to be done for my companions and I.. Please... Enlighten me.. I understand you will be supplying the means of travel and for extraction; however what else should I know before the contract is taken?" Dazkar wasted no time in speaking the masked woman who sat across from him. In comparison she was like a child before a giant even when they sat the situation had not changed.

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His recent success in Izral had Proteus Rauz heralded as an asset to these lands. Others were deeming him a threat and an inevitable source of it's possible annihilation. He accepted either. Izral now wore a massive scar on its face after his efforts, The Masons were pleased and the rebelling forces there had their morale destroyed in one event. In the same fell swoop a massive entity, known as a Kaijiuu had been weaponized by an unknown organization and sent to level lands that he sought to establish his own domain on. Again, The King's public displays and feats further pushed his name onto the lists of would be authorities seeking to accomplish black area goals without squandering their white area resources. To a king, with a displaced kingdom and citizens to think of, and now the entirety of a Squatter city to consider with every action, any and all possible allies gained through good deeds were welcomed. As were the deeds. So it would be of no surprise to him to be requisitioned for another task, again for the Masons through a proxy and Proteus Rauz was never one to procrastinate to an objective. That objective was in for a surprise to say so in the least.

If the foundation of the shabby establishment she resided in was questionable prior to his arrival, then after it, there would be no question that it wouldn't see out the next few days or the next great gust of wind. It was those same cross winds that shielded the arrival of something this large, and fast and heavy. It was the earth beneath them all that took on the task of absorbing his landing and it shuddered at the task as the Titan made land fall and literally marred landscape where he arrived, shaking those dishes until some fell and broke or cracked against one another. The thin aged glass in those windows? The Same. The cracks running from the ground to the roof where the house had already relented to forces of time and gravity, bled dust all around where she sat--which for a sparse few seconds would feel as if it were resting atop a local seismic event. Should she have a line of sight out of the nearest window, one of her assets would have arrived. All 12-Feet of him. Draped head to toe in an Armor Like Carapace bearing the Symbols of the Ancients and his status as King, and a Cloak that didn't seem to have ANY end in sight and moved as if it lived and breathed. He was shock and awe----clearly, someone felt she needed shock and awe.

His senses told him that there were already 2 inside. The also told him that he wasn't small enough to fit through the doorway, and he wasn't going to be shy about his lack of intention on trying. So without much hesitation, or effort or seemingly any sufficient resistance, Bull stepped through the door and the supporting wall and entered the establishment, that unique cloak about his shoulders filling and spilling into the spaces as if it were a fog or a mist. Fierce eyes rested upon the two, but more so the woman. She fit the description listed as the contact and that bass-heavy voice would come forth, post haste. "Sorry, not a fan of doors...." with only a moment between salvo's he'd continue, "You're the mason's contact I presume?" There wouldn't be a reason for anyone else to be here specifically..

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She watched the Nelrosis take a seat right across from her; behind her mask her nose curled at the scent of him, the tainting of his blood flowing through bastard veins. S0U42hL.png

"Yes, allow me to be-"

Their beginning was interrupted by an awe inspiring sight colored like the grandest of Kings and shaped like the largest of mountains. His voice drowned the air and his sight bore into her, causing her to tip her head gently off to the side and her arms to fold across her chest. 

"The mason's contact? I believe you are poorly mistaken, but I won't fault you for that."

Doesn't matter, at the end of the day as long as the job gets done, she could care less who her supposed boss is. Though she is curious as to who was spreading it around town she worked for any part of the government, and why in the world anyone would think to start such a rumour. The woman allowed a moment of silence to settle between her and them before shrugging her shoulders and returning to the mission at hand.

"Anyways, to answer you: yes, I will be supplying everything for this task. The ship, the monies, food stuffs, and general supplies you'll be needing to survive."

A slender hand reached into the crease of her top, drawing out a thick file. She didn't offer the large man a seat, so instead she just waved him over to join them and take a look at the file. Hopefully him moving around won't make the roof fall on top of them or make the earth swallow them up, because she's a busy woman and she doesn't have time to scale crevices or unbury herself. 

"I need you guys to travel to the Kageroth Mountains and release this man from his imprisonment in the Kageroth Peak."

A few pages were flipped to reveal the dossier of the man in question: Osric Janos. The name just rolls off the tongue and you could just tell that the man who owned the name is dangerous, cunning, and another abomination to the kneelers of Alterion. A perversion against mankind's nature, Osric has earned his title as Tyrant and Warlord with a crime sheet that spans the entirety of Tellus Mater. 

"I don't care how you do it and I don't care how many people you kill, what matters is you release him ... alive."

The word was heavy with meaning - Alive. She looked at them with covered eyes, making sure that they understood that Osric needed to be safely removed from his bindings and brought back to the civilization without a single hair missing. 

"You get partial payment now and then the rest when I know you have completed your task. Questions?"

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Dazkar's face remained in its resting bitch face status, keeping his comments to himself the man adjusted his posture. He was the first to note the gargantuan figure approaching from the vibrations and shifting of the fickle earth. As Bull made his way into the room Dazkar instinctively put up a mana shell around himself just in case. Their employer would be on her own for the most part. 

As the file came out Daz leaned in on the table with interest. Hearing the name a smile crossed his thick lips exposing sharpened canines. The name Osric waa familiar to him, the man was a nelrosis legend which made all other people pale in comparison. Admittedly the mission made his blood boil with anticipation and glee. Reaching out he adjusted the photos for Bull to see as well before leaning back in his chair. "Alive and broken free.. Partial payment now and the rest upon completion.. I understand.. What about you any questions?" Dazkar spoke with authority and an unbreakable grip. The others eyes might have been fierce but Dazkar's persona and ambition sought to far outweigh the others size.

When and if Bull had asked the question, jaded hues would flip from the giant and back to the woman whom worked for the government. This man had just given up the lives of those whom told him the information.. Was he stupid or was he simply helping her tie off loose ends? 

"If there is nothing else I should like to get a jump on this immediately.. I'll bring my companion up to speed on the trip.. What is your name giant?" Staring at the masked woman he finally disregarded her presence respectfully. Bowing his head lightly he turned his attention to the other gazing up slightly.

[I love the mobile version of this site. I got to write this during work woot woot.]

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His first step was admittedly a cautious one. Once he felt as if this place could tolerate long enough to have the meeting the second and then those that followed until he was behind the other figure, viewing the picture within the others hand. Part of him should be concerned that this woman didn't bat an eye at the mention of whom sent him, then again, such was their way, he was beginning to become accustomed to it. He studied the picture in it's entirety, committing the individual to memory and before answering any thing else asked of him his voice would rang out again. "Not that I mind asking anyone have they seen anyone else, but you wouldn't happen to have anything that belong to this individual do you? Clothing, anything?"

Obviously to track him. Bull's senses were sufficient for the task---more then so, possibly overly so. While he didn't mind cracking a few eggs to create an omelette he could only imagine how much blood would unnecessarily have to be on his hands if he actually had to "SEARCH" this individual out. The inquiry about his name would be answered, "Proteus, Proteus Rauz..."  IF there was an actual answer to his inquiry, he'd stand to hear it before putting his attention back to his task-mate and possibly following them to the exit out of this place. Odd....the CONTACT specified the man to be released alive, but the CONNECT did not.


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S0U42hL.png"You kill him and there will be consequences."

While she is no soothsayer and certainly not the sort who dances around fires to read bones, she knows people and people are deceptive creatures that'll do whatever they can to stay alive. She is the one supplying them the goods to start this mission, meaning she expects them to be on their best behavior with her money and her trust. Not openly going to say it, as threats probably won't work against either one of them, but she is not the sort to turn the other cheek if done wrong. 

"I have nothing of the sort, but that won't matter in the long run. He is the only prisoner that matters in that place - you won't miss him."

Once again she reached inside her shirt, this time withdrawing the necessaries that will get them up where they need to be. The papers for the ship showing ownership related to a company called 'Oliver & Co.', and the crew on the ship worked for the company that is apparently still trying to lift itself off the ground. Not that anyone will really look through their passes or anything, it just never hurts to be overly prepared in case a newbie tries to follow the book. Information on the area and the prison also accompanied the stack, beneficial reading if they really want to be stealthy in their journey. On top of everything is the layout of the ship and clipped to the pages are two key cards, one for each of them.

"There's half your payment right there," she tapped the cards, "you can withdraw anywhere in Alterion and then use the funds anywhere in Valucre. You won't have trouble getting your payment, and to reiterate: you get the rest when the deed is done."

Clearly done with the meeting, feeling like she's given them all the information she's willing to give, the woman scoots her chair back to stand up. For good ol' times sake, she reached into the slip of her shirt, where apparently she kept everything, and withdrew a card; the nubby cardstock was thick and cut perfectly into a white, dull rectangle. No writing on the card, the only decoration pressed into the cardstock would be a skull missing its mandible. She placed two of the cards on the table, giving them both a simple tap with her finger before sliding them forward for them to pick up. 

"Don't bother looking for me when your task is done, I'll know either way, but if your pockets start feeling light again I'll be around."

With that adieu, she dusts herself off and slowly makes her way outside where she disappears into the disgusting crowd of Lessers. The gentleman will be left on their own to board the ship and make their way to Kageroth Prison.


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Prison Bound | The Adventure begins

  • "Let's light it up shall we?!"

Mission Order I : Rescue of Osric Janos

There was somewhat of a lack in response to the giants words, lost in translation was his loss of interest. The order was more important of course and thus without delay, Dazkar separated the files for the three of them. Macaria was not present at the moment but she would available the moment they touched base on the outskirts of the city. He had instructed her to go on ahead and find the ship; rather the only airship here by the "Oliver & Co" [Great movie by the way, Oliver and Company.] and keep a stable eye to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary. Seen as she had sent nothing to him via their mental connection Dazkar had to presume everything was on par with the information provided to him at this point. Taking his file and both cards one of each handed out by the woman he placed them all within his robes. Macaria should have gotten her own already if anything due to the separation plans at hand. 

Turning to leave, Dazkar already knew where to go and what to do. He did not need to be told that orders were orders. Perhaps this Proteus might need a refresher from the woman somewhere down the line. If he didn't have to see her again that might actually be a blessing. Sauntering out of the hole in the wall Daz also seemed to vanish into the crowed; undoubtedly thought Proteus would follow as they both had a single destination. The airship and the Kageroth Prison of Alterion, the target was Osric Janos a rather ruthless idol in Dazkar's books. It was almost like a wet dream really; he was getting to gaze upon a Nelrosis whom wrote history with his own two hands and iron will.  Slipping both hands into his pants pockets Dazkar swiftly exited the Lessertown and into the woods; up ahead would be a mass clearing meant for the airship to land then lift off later on. Slowing his pace he gently let out a whistle to call to Macaria and relay to her of his return.

Yet there was no pause in his steps as he counted down the steps needed to board the ship and successfully set out. At this point they were just guests aboard the ship for now, unless Dazkar was the be the captain at this point. The crew must know of the location or else they were left in the dark and only paid to get in and get out with the extraction. The possibilities were endless but fitting just the same, offering out his right hand he waited for Macaria to come and make contact with him. The dragon scaled hand looked more like a gauntlet due to the layered scales and rather sharp nails but it was his hand none the less. Natural body armor was a wonderful thing to be hold in their species considered abominations or not.  The gentle hum of engines could be heard as the airship's crew had scanned out their guests location. Firing up the core the crystals glowed vibrantly before the ships gargantuan body began to slowly hover. A large bay door opened in the belly with a long ramp the lead into the main section. A rather large smile crested Dazkar's face as he day dreamed of having his own airship at some point, it would happen perhaps after this mission he would see to it that they acquired an airship.Related image

 As the trio entered the beasts belly, the mighty machinery rumbled as it began to lift and take flight. Staying within the atmosphere the interior was hella spacious even for fitting Proteus at his full height. The smile on Daz's face only got larger as he spun around to watch the bay doors close and the ground retreat from their current standing. "So it begins my dear.." Looking over to Macaria he gently caressed her cheek with the back of his right hand before giving her a wink. "Meet Proteus Rauz. He will be undertaking this task with us.. I believe he will be an immense help and I do not mean just his size either." Giving a slightly chuckle the man stepped back allowed the two to greet and meet one another. 

"Sir! Please come with me to the navigation room. We need you to speak to the Captain about double checking where we are headed sir." One of the crewman swiftly approached Dazkar and the trio from behind. With a salute the man stood at attention for a moment to let Dazkar ready himself before turning away to lead him to the navigation room. Dazkar had turned and only offered the man a slight nod before following the youth to the captain. Beckoning behind himself he asked the other two to follow so that they could all get a grasp for the ships interior. 

Edited by Chappu

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He took the paperwork, but provided in her an unwavering stare as if he was seeking to burn a hole into her skull. He didn't like her. Flat out, and while it was unknown as to where and why he reached this conclusion, he was here. The feeling off her just wasn't right, and BULL's base empathic talents functioned on instinct. She simply oozed in deception, her saving grace here and now being that the establishment of diplomatic relationships for his own kingdom was far more important then anything else. BULL was RICH, he was a King after-all so clearly there was not much of a monetary gain to be had from this mission. His personal preference for honoring his word simply stood on higher ground. So he'd have taken the paper work and the card and stowed it away while slow at first to do so, begin following the other individual whom seemed to have some experience working with this woman before.

Where Dazkar blended into the crowd, Proteus parted it. Not on purpose, it appeared nobody wanted to get into the walking path of the walking mountain. His eyes skimmed the crowds as they passed through and he kept pace with Dazkar just fine. That pace had carried the two of them out of the town and into the woods where he laid eyes onto a ship that looked very familiar in design to one of the many in his fleet. Markings and coloration were different, as was the core design function which he couldn't key on. All of his vessels were powered by a Celestium-Fusion Core. Unique and specific to his kingdoms design. More specifically it was an energy type that the King was immensely sensitive to, he could sense it on a planetary scale and none of it was present here.

His first step onto the ramp was an uneasy one, At his weight it shuddered some but held fast and firm for those to follow until he was within the confines of the vessel, scrutinizing every single detail of it, while turning some to get a feel for the spacing. He was unapologetic about the expanse of cape moving behind him. Flowing over and around crew mates, some disturbed in their work, some were gawking either way and were provided a distraction. It wasn't until now that he actually acknowledged another joining their party and once the introductions were given he'd nod in greeting, finding a wall, crossing his arms and leaning against it, he simply prepared for the flight and the inevitable wait that follows.


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The three Althane youths sat around the campfire in the light of day, the tallest leaning forward to stir a bubbling mud colored liquid lest it stick to the lone cooking pot available to them. If Janos resented being made to tend the soup, he didn’t show it. Softcock and Pantywaist sat on either side of him, staring at the odious liquid with questionable gazes. 


“You're sure this stuff is edible, Shithead?” Janos didn’t grimace at the name, and hadn’t for a long time. Part of the Althane methodology was tearing down the ego and rebuilding it. Every cadet was given a less than desirable name and wouldn’t hear their given name spoken again until he’d proven himself worthy of it. 


“It’s Spink.” Janos said, assuredly. “Boney little bastards, hard to chew on, nothing but cartilage and gristle, but their fat little bellies melt into a tasty broth. They’re about all I ate during my exile...” 


Janos trailed off. His exile was the reason for their assignment on this mission. He’d had the gall to return less than a month after being exiled from his camp, and the other two Althane boys just had the ill luck of being chosen by their superior to deliver a beating they weren’t equipped to mete out. In truth, though, Janos bore them no ill will—they were Althane and now they were his Corps, until he returned him victorious and defeated. 


His gaze moved past the fire to focus on the village in the horizon. The orders had come from their superior bright and early as promised. Empty the Monkey clan’s village and hand it over to the Dog Demon family.”


“Fucking Monkey spirits won’t be easy to drive off,” Softcock muttered. We can take them out with a full assault though. Scale the walls, merc the lot of em.”


Janos shook his head. “The walls are warded and too high to scale or leap over. Besides, the monkeys want that. They’d be right at home fighting us on those parapets. We need to slip in and attack from within.  Softcock nodded and looked to Pantywaist who shrugged. 


“We could tunnel in,” he suggested. “They wouldn’t expect that.”


Janos stirred the soup, weighing the idea for a long moment before shaking his head. “We’d be exhausted by the time we broke through and if they’ve warded the walls and feel us skipping under, they’ll be waiting for us. Pantywaist cocked an eyebrow before wrapping his hands around his knees to study the flame. 


“We need to stroll right in,” Janos declared raising his spook triumphantly. “Stroll right in and attack from the inside.”


“How do you propose we get them to open the gate?” 


“We set the wheat on fire.” 


Softcock snorted. “You burn down the crop and the Dog Family will have a shit fit.” 


Janos smirked. “That’s ruff, for them, I guess. And we won’t need to burn the whole thing down, but the back quarter. They’ll have to come out itnout, while they’re distracted we slip in. Look...” Janos plucked a stalk of wheat from his pack and held it out to them. It’s ripe and ready for harvest. When it’s green and bouncy, it’s harder to burn, it soaks up water and is more resistance...but now? It’s kindling. And what’s more the Monkey’s will have to use spot treatment to put the fire out. If they blanket the hold damn Crop in water at this point, they’ll risk wrecking the harvest. Too much mud means they can’t cut their crop. Too much wet wheat sitting out in the sun...it will rot away. They’ll have to handle it one bucket and barrel at a time and to do that they’ll need to open the gates.”


How do you know so much about the Monkey’s wheat crop?” Pantywaist asked sniffing at the soup.


“I skulked around here during my exile. The Monkey’s tolerate the spinks because they pluck the insects and other critters off the crop before it can spread, but too many of the little bastards rummaging in the fields knocks the kernels out of the bud. They let me keep what I killed, some of em even talked to me from time to time. That’s how I learned about the wheat and that they’ve already sold off most of their crop. They won’t let it burn.” Janos promised. “They want the gold more than they want the wheat.”


“Still, you think the Demon Lord of the Dog clan isn’t going to get us shitcanned for it? “ 


“I’m betting not,” Janos said pulling a loaf of bread out of his pack. It was dark brown with flecks of black herbs and spices clinging to it. The spicy bread was a delicacy  at home the cadets rarely got. Tearing the loaf into three pieces he continued with his tale. “When I was making my way here, last month, I passed the dog demon tribe. Heard the Dog Lord giving a speech to his vassals. They made the initial bid on the Crop, but the Monkeys turned em down. Insulted them.” 


“So that’s why you came back when you did?” 


“Yup,” Janos smiled. “Cus the Crop was ripe and there’s nothing quite like a dog with a bone.” 




Janos stirred in the darkness, whatever ancient warding kept him from wasting away likewise kept him from enjoying the blissful ignorance of slumber. He’d learned to lose himself in his thoughts and memories for hours on end, but rest never came. A lesser being might have been driven to madness, but Janos merely reflected on the taste of the spiced bread that evening. The delicacy had been pilfered from their superior’s rations before departing and when his comrades learned of its existence they had both grinned from ear to ear. 


That night after cementing their plan, the three youths toasted their expedition and dipped the greasy spink soup up with the delicious treat. They drank deep from the flagon of black ale, another of the boys had procured. Janos still remembered the ebon liquor trailing down his chin, as black as midnight. 


As black as this cell. 



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XjDhr07.pngMacaria had listened, as she always does, and for Dazkar's return. Not a single drop of impatience painted her soft face or the delicate bones in her body. Instead she stood with staff in hand, legs apart while her free hand sat against her solid hip; she was prepared, ready to take on the world. Due to their constantly revolving lifestyle she has learned that it's best to always remain calm, as these kind of things take time and planning, so unlike their usual goings on.

Pointed ears perked at the familiar sound, causing the young lady to turn instantly on the heel of bare feet and flounce towards Dazkar. With a grand smile she took his hand, giving it a proper squeeze before taking three steps to his one - the only way she's able to keep up. While their species is known for their appearance and height, Marcaria appeared to be the opposite of her birthright. Built lithe, curved, and soft, she would have been shunned from most Nelrosis if she hadn't proved herself through her skills and might.


She said once the doors closed, amazed at the ship, at Proteus, at their general luck for acquiring such a job. So used they were to doing small things, like chasing chickens or picking weeds, to acquire just enough money to survive the day. Not at all comfortable and not entirely ideal, but they all make it work and that is what makes it worth it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Proteus, you can call me Macaria.”

Bowing her head to the new addition to their group, the large man could feel the kindness dripping from the woman and her simple gesture.

“Here’s to our success!”

An enthusiastic fist shot itself into the air, causing the golden bangles circling her wrist to jingle and jangle like loose change. While the dangers are clean and cut, the trials beyond clear, Macaria sees no reason to bless their journey with good juju and sprinkles of hope. Life is a little too precarious at times, leaving most burdened by a flame of dismissal and bitterness, that is is hard to find pleasure in the smallest of things. Macaria finds no shame in her prayers and hopes and wishes; believing they help, nothing can damage her readiness.

After her brief celebrations, the woman grabs Dazkar by his beckoning hand and follows after him.

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Captain on Deck!Media Tweets by 김피죤(82세,빛의전사) (@666pigeon) | Twitter

Forward unto Dawn

With a gentle exhale Daz could not help but break with a smile as his beloved Macaria blessed their trip The people aboard seemed to feel a bit easier with the blessings in place to help with the quest at large. Now her slender fingers were once more interlocks with his own as he kissed the back of her hand in pure love and respect.

She was the real gem of his emerald hues, different as she was compared to most Nelrosis her beauty and charisma poured out like honey over any souring wounds that might have been inflicted some how. Taking her up along the pathways of the ship, Dazkar walked in silence as he kept his inner thoughts to himself and in deep silence.

This creature Janos was one of their own for one, this made him very dangerous not to the world but to his Queen and himself in turn. They were to rescue this man and bring him back alive an well to King Ocelet no doubt the only man who might find a use for such a man with such talents. As for their giant companion Daz could only assume there might be some disagreement with how they would handle the situation at hand. This thought did not bode well with the rest of the plans running around in his mind. Squeezing Macaria's hand gently he stroked it for comfort before slowly exhaling. 

The Kageroth Mountains.. A place maintained by a Crime Syndicate that he was not too fond of. Failure was not an option and thus he wanted to figure out the most direct route to the prisoners cell. No detours and surely no combat unless they sought to be taken down and cut to pieces before being imprisoned. 

When the door opened to the navigation room the Captain rose from his high backed chair at the center of the main floor. "Greetings Mr. and Mrs. Abigai.. Welcome aboard the ship.. We are under strict orders to follow as you instruct us.. So please tell us what you want us to do.." The Captain said lightly his auburn hair was slicked back as a sleek pair of glasses adorned his face. Framing the icy blue hues that were cool and calculated everything in account. 

The greeting itself was unexpected but Dazkar was not going to question it. Stepping forward he patted the Captain's shoulders in greeting before releasing the woman's hand with a gentle stroke of his thumb. Reaching out to the main dash board before the Captain's chair he pressed a few buttons until a Pixel version of the prison popped up on the system. The Director AI itself had been at work in subduing and grabbing the information they would need to snatch Janos from his cell. 

"Our goal and target is Janos... Now.. The defense themselves will need to be handled by the ship. Director will handle all fail safes and open all the doors and give green lights for the most part. The invasion of the Prison will start on the same floor the prisoner is held. We will not risk a ground assault due to number of troops and the fire power of those below.." At the mention of the Director the AI itself made its presence known as a small child sitting in a chair sipping a cup of tea. 

"The fire power of this ship I am told can maintain a safe distance to take out other defenses while being able to handle damage upon getting closer. I should like you to play it all safe.. Captain keep your crew in check and be ready to extract when needed and for now. Prepare all fire power possible. We need to go in there guns blazing if needs be." Chuckling once more the man had another plan in mind but that would require someone on the inside to help them out. He knew of no one n the inside of the building but he would surely take down a few names in the process. Turning to look at Proteus he gave a lightly smile and a thumbs up before crossing his arms over his chest to listen to what others had to say. "Anything anyone would like to input?"




Edited by Chappu

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He himself listened intently. What was being offered seemed sensible enough but in all honesty, Proteus wasn't a planner. He wasn't a strategist in this sense. Even in his diminished form (MP), as he was, he was still up for confronting this situation head on. However, he couldn't help but to think that in this circumstance that it may do them some justice if they didn't throw ALL of their eggs in one basket.

"Combat just doesn't seem avoidable. He is in a prison. A high security one, and is a priority at that so he will be heavily guarded. And I don't know about you, but im not built for stealth..." He'd have exhaled some and spoke frankly. "I think I can make it to him myself.  If I go about it the way im thinking, I can hit them hard, fast, and get directly to our objective before they have the chance to put together a real offensive or defensive. If you guys and this ship are there to clear the way on the way back out, myself...and the prisoner under his own power, should be more then enough to get out. You'd just have to drop me....here."

And if there was a topical graph of the objective location was on display Bull's finger rested on a strip of Land a mile from the front entrance to this place. "It's a ways off, It's remote, no defenses and that mile gives me enough space to build up momentum and the speed i need..." He didn't say for what. He didn't give any other detail. He just gave his opinion and would step back and cross his arms---Looking VERY VERY sure. "It's low presence, fast, and efficient. They won't know it's a GROUP here for him until he's already released and on his way out." In Bulls mind, he didnt KNOW what these two were capable---even if they were more powerful then he was, He wouldn't want to be a liability to them or them to be a liability to him. They have a ship, that has fire power, that has systems for intrusion, that was more then enough---when they got a 14' Brute Force Entry that was more then willing to absorb the punishment, take the attention and breach the obstacles needed to make this a quick extraction.

"So? How about it?"

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