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Wicker Town Blues (Open but please read OOC)

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”You want to do what’s right, don’t you Norman?” A cold and dark voice pierced the still air of a dusty and darkened room. 


Sitting at a lone wooden table in said dark room with one dull and dimly light lightbulb hanging overhead was a man of some years. Greying features accompanied by a stern but tired face showed the wear and tear of someone who had held a hard career filled with strife and pain. Upon his person he wore the olive green dress uniform of a guard or military personnel, much like the man it too was faded with the passage of time and hardship that came with it. Changing slowly but noticeably the stern look of a hardened professional shifted to a shape of slight fear and anxiety. He looked down at the wooden table for but a moment, and for the first time in his life, an honest man had blinked. It was all the serpent needed to sink its fangs in. 


”You see. Your post, it’s simply overrun with villainy and crimes of unspeakable volumes. Murder, arson, assault, and every day it gets worse. You don’t want it to get worse do you Norman?” Words dripped laced with the false concern of one born of evil and hatred. Someone who only said the words necessary to get what they needed. 


”N-No... I don’t want it to get worse...” The man known as Norman said with a shaky voice. 


”No no no, of course you don’t want that Norman. You want to bring about a change. But you can’t do that by yourself can you?” The fangs sunk deeper into the man’s resolve as it began to crumble beneath their pressure. 


”I want to change it... but the crime lords they have too much pow-“ A swift yet gentle coated in black iron and red inlay jutted out from the darkness and slowly placed the backside of it against Norman’s cheek. 


”Shhhhh. You let me take care of them and I promise you a good change will come your way. One of great heft and depth.” Slowly the hand retreated back into the darkness and returned to drop a bulbous cloth sack onto the table. 


Hitting it with a hard clink of loose metal items, the bag spilled open to reveal golden coins that lay on the table and glimmered in Norman’s eyes. It was all but over now, the man had lost. 


”And the best part Norman. You don’t even need to do anything. Just secure the gates after curfew, and don’t let your men have anyone go in or out. There’s a chest-load more of that for you and your men as well. Can you do that, Norman? Can you do that for me?” There was a silence after the voice spoke from the shadows. 


Norman looked at the gold. Thought of his honor, his duty, his post and charge. He then thought about the years of his life being abused, having his job mocked and spat upon by those he was meant to be above. He thought of his wife and his retirement. The house on the coast. College paid off for his grandkids. Something to leave his family besides a mediocre retirement fund upon his death. He thought of all this, and his decision was made. 


Taking the bag of gold he clutched it to his chest and spoke five words. 


”Yes. I can do that.” An honest man died.  





  Wicker Town Blues 



 Wicker Town Entrance 2100 Hours  

Rain fell from the sky as horse whinnied and came to a stop. With a carriage in tow we got to see within its confines. Luxurious silk lined seats and golden tassels that hung from plush throw pillows. The entire carriage reeked of money and wealth, of people who had built that on acts of cruelty and violence. People that Dredge tended to enjoy, but had to be dealt with all the same. Sitting at the far left seat of the bench was a man known as Salvador “Money” Felix. One of the crime lords who happened to run a network of gangs here in Wicker Town. With him was his wife of fifteen years and their only son. They had been out celebrating Salvador’s won appeal about a parole violation. Not that it really mattered, but the family seemed to be in good spirits with smiles stretched across their bright and beautiful faces. 


”I can’t believe they thought William would rat you out.” The woman laughed as she clutched to her husband’s side. 


”Nah, William is solid. Couldn’t crack that guy with a hammer. Just like my little man over here.” The crime lord soon picked up his young son and cradled him up onto his lap. The boy smiled and laughed at his father’s grasp and held tight to him in return. 


”I couldn’t go back to Reyer City and leave this tough guy right here.” Salvador chuckled as everything started to go somewhat quiet. 


”Why are we stopped? That old git Norman knows I don’t like to be held up.” With frustration in her voice her husband opened the carriage door and looked out to where Norman was. 


Wicker Town was surrounded by walls and barbed wire fences, and the main entrance had a two part gate where people would be let in, searched, then advanced through the second gate. Salvador found himself and his family within the holding area between gates. Looking around he spotted Captain Norman in his uniform and rain coat looking towards him with cold and hollow eyes. The eyes of someone who knew what was about to happen but could do nothing. Ignoring those eyes, Salvador stepped out and seethed with anger. 


”Norman you stupid idiot! I told you I don’t need to be held up! How about some of my boys go and visit your kids at their jobs again, huh! Would you like that you son of a bitch!” Salvador yelled at the Captain to no avail with his stone wall of a face. There was simply a pause between them. 


”You’re right. Goodbye Mister Felix.” Norman gave the crime lord a gentle nod of the head before retreating into the shadow of the guardhouse. 


”Everything okay, dear?!” His wife yelled from the carriage as she poked her head out into the rain. Salvador turned his body slightly to look back at her. 


”Yeah babe, everything is fin-“ A gunshot interrupted the man. 

Pulling his hands up now covered in his own blood, he looked up from it to see standing there five people. One that stood near seven feet tall and shrouded with dark robes, and on either side of him plain clothed men and women with bandanas over their faces carrying automatic magitech rifles. His wife screamed and clutched their son close to her. 



”What is it that they say in your profession? It’s not personal.” And with that the order was given. 


Brief shrieks of horror were quickly snuffed out by the sound of gunfire and thunder as rain poured down heavier upon Wicker Town. After a few extra double tap shots were fired for good measure, the men who had committed this act of violence had removed themselves from the scene and left only a bullet riddled carriage, a dead horse, and a slaughtered family to bleed onto the wet ground. 


”Bravo One this is Overlord Actual, Target Blackbird neutralized. Proceed to targets Hippogriff, Bone Devil, and Drider.” Going out on a secure comms line, the operation had begun. 


Throughout Wicker Town various teams of plainclothes Legion commandos moved through the mud and rain of Wicker Town. Rows upon rows of slum and poverty stricken buildings lined the roads and alleyways of this town. Three targets remained had been designated to be taken care of, codenames Hippogriff, Bone Devil, and Drider. Leaders of the more powerful gangs here in this forsaken place. Once they were removed and a message sent, Dredge would have control of this town and it’s people. A beacon away from the Cold Mountains to conduct his affairs and see to it that the work needing to be done was handled. Where the man found himself now was on the outer layers of the town, in a place where only the worst of the worst were sent. The barbed wire fields. 


Chained to posts surrounded on all sides by the jagged pieces of twisted metal were the dammed. Those who had broke the rules of this place and were made example of. Walking up to one of the downtrodden, a Orc whose breathes were shallow and eyes weak. Dredge looked to the man from beneath his hood and spoke. 


”Do you wish to be free?” The snake bared it’s fangs once again. 


The operation had begun, and Legion was ready to make their move to expand here in Genesaris. 




Edited by Dredge

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In another part of the town, leaning back on a chair and staring out at the rain, a beautiful and well dressed man from Dairut let out a loud sigh.

The dreary rain and atmosphere of Wicker Town was hardly something Maxwell Rubicante had enjoyed in the couple of days he had been staying there.  He had always intended to visit Wicker Town, its hands fingers were in far too many pies to ignore for his ambitions to not run into them sooner or later.  However, Maxwell didn't care to leave a trail from him to this sort of place that didn't have a good excuse attached to it.  luckily, or unluckily, for Maxwell, two weeks ago he got his excuse.  a large number of people, dressed as bandits, attacked a small farming settlement with the intent to kill every inhabitant.  The negative emotions generated by this act, were then used to fuel a powerful pyromancy that was used to destroy a nearby monastary of warrior monks.  The surviving bandits were then executed via some kind of targeted hex.  leaving no one that could be interrogated as to why any of that had happened.  Maxwell was now in Wicker Town, to 'search for leads about who could have been behind that attack'.  Maxwell was legitimately interested in tracking down the culprit and believed that there was legitimate information to be found in Wicker Town, but this was also the perfect time to work things out on the business side as well.

Maxwell had some ideas as to what he was looking for, the actions the person pulling the strings had taken and their aversion to leaving clues, still narrowed down the possibilities quite a bit.  The head is probably a powerful magic user or magical entity, it has to be someone who can get such a large force and multiple supernatural beings in line and loyal.  It can't be a foreign power, governments are too public to hide the deaths of so much manpower, and those that could wouldn't have made such a show of the affair.  The only kinds of groups that could have that amount of power and be willing to throw it away in such a manner would be either a cult or an independent extremest faction.  Either of which would need to have some kind of tie with the criminal underworld, and what better place to find a tie, than the biggest crime knot on all of genesaris.

But, these things take time to sift through, and Maxwell hardly considered himself in a hurry.  He had gotten his hands on being able to stay in one of the few modern buildings in Wicker Town, it was worth a lot, but the luxury was worth it.  He hadn't taken much with him however, his butler, Thomas Boyle, could get most things he needed when he wanted it.  The only people he had brought with him besides his butler were a couple of impressionable youths he was able to get his hands on at the thing two weeks ago.  They had been preforming adequately and the custom clothing Maxwell had made for them had just arrived, their individual styles were fine, but to be with Maxwell they needed outfits that cost a bit more... money.  Maxwell had standards after all.

"Thomas, have I taken the time to tell you how board I am"  "no, master Rubicante"  "well I am, nearly a whole week of being at Wicker Town and it has managed to rain every single day, you would think this place would have better weather."  "It is the rainy season master Rubicante."  "yes, the universe finds absurd ways to conspire against me perhaps.  You know, for the money I've spent to get these accommodations I could have stayed at the Golden Chalice for a whole week back in Dairut?  With meals and services too might I add.  Instead, I have nothing to do but stare at rain and talk to 'crime lords' who think its fine to live in a failed rehabilitation center.  Ugh, the things I do for humanity and its passion."  "you are without equal master Rubicante"  The butler handed Maxwell a notably expensive cup of tea.  "Thank you Thomas, you are the wind in my sails or something like that.  I just wish something bombastic would happen here, something hot and passionate."  Maxwell drank some of the tea.  "and where exactly are my new hires, they better not be causing trouble after or something stupid like that."

Edited by squid peanut
added links to stuff

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Safehouse Macguiver 1700

"T.E.M. here's your employers details. Wicker Town... Yeah the criminal city. Guy wants you to go in and eliminate some crime lords. A Tiefling named Bone Devil, presumably named after the unholy creature itself, Tieflings man, they need weird names. Just know your employer said eliminate him and people who try to stop you and whoever else tries, just leave the family alone, someone is supposed to take care of that. Oh and your employer didn't give a name but the pay was big. Who knows you might be able to afford that house if you keep with this guy." The line disconnects and the slam of a wooden door a floor below can be heard.

Wicker Town 2100

T.E.M. had been waiting inside Wicker Town and watched the entrance of it through the scope of their rifle for what seemed like hours. A carriage pulled up to main entrance, a man exited and then proceeded to be shot down with various armed people walking in. The cavalry seemed to have arrived and the sniper quickly stood up to leave the building. "Pay me well, I do the job well." Out of the corner of their eye and Tiefling was seen walking closer to them. Word that an assassin was coming to kill Bone Devil and a scout must've their unfortunate way to said assassin. As the scouting Tiefling started pulling out their weapon, a loud blast echoed through the air and the Tiefling slumped to the ground, a shotgun sized hole torn into their chest. A sigh exited T.E.M.'s covered mouth as they opened the door to exit the building. "Primary Objective: Eliminate Bone Devil. Kill anyone else who dares stop me."

The sounds of rain hitting the ground and people scampering to get away was a mix of peace and chaos. Of course the slightly panicked individuals would of course either draw their weapons or leave the area, T.E.M. wanted to leave sight of everyone and everything. Holding their left hand up, the hand glowed and quickly the mercenary assassin disappeared. Stealth was necessary for this mission.

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2 weeks.That's how much time had passed since the duo had encountered Dredge. Since then, 10% of Dauner's thoughts had been about Dredge, the boss of the bandits. It was clear that that man was strong. After encountering such a powerful opponent, Dauner could barely keep himself from crumbling under the pressure of wanting to fight him. Never had his mind been occupied this much by anything or anyone that was not food, adventure or combat.

Dauner was strolling through the streets of Wicker Town under the rain in the dark night. He didn't have anything interesting to do back at the apartment so he went out to have a walk. For all the talk about how this place was filling with criminals, Dauner could not find anyone whose strength would interest him in the slightest. These guys sure looked tough but that was it. Their auras were as pea sized as any other ordinary person. Dauner's wasn't much different from theirs but he liked to think of himself as an exception. His was bigger than the ordinary but by just a bit. As such most of the enemies he's met have had greater auras which could be the reason why they always underestimate him.

As he walked about, a group of thugs set their eyes on him. He was indeed a new face they hadn't seen around before. He also looked reasonably weaker than any of them so they thought he'd be an easy target. They moved out and stopped him as he walked. "Hey kid. Let's step into the alley for a while". Dauner looked at the man who had just spoken to him. "Why? Do you have some food for me? I'm hungry". The guys thought they had hit a jackpot. The impression Dauner gave was that he was kinda gullible and easy to deceive. "Yes, sure. We've got lots of food" the man said jokingly as he laughed with his pals. "Great!" Dauner exclaimed as he grinned widely  with his teeth showing. He then turned towards the alley and began to walk towards it. Once in, he stopped and turned towards the thugs still smiling. "Where's the food?" he asked. "Be a good boy and hand over all you have" the thug said pointing a knife at Dauner. "Huh. Where's the food?" Dauner asked again not paying attention to the thugs and looking around. "Hey. Are you just dumb or what? There's no food. Now hand over your belongings". Dauner's smile slowly faded as he began to use pressure iroki on the thugs. Suddenly, they fell to their knees not knowing what was going on. It was as though a 100 ton boulder was bearing down on them and this pressure just kept increasing. Anyone near who could sense aura would notice a strong aura appear and disappear about half a minute later. The look on Dauner's face changed to sad for a while as the pressure was lifted leaving the thugs on the ground with their bones almost crushed. Then he turned around and began to walk away heading back to the apartment. Br fore going he turned his head and said to the thugs with a smile, "It's not good to joke about food". Then he continued his walk.

Edited by Dauner Light

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Jaecia's eyes flew wide open as the piercing scream echoed through the dark alley. To others, it would have been muffled by distance, and disinterest. Screams were not an unusual thing in Wicker Town, she'd come to learn this quickly during her stay. But she heard it, as if the boy drew his last breath right beside her. Her muscles went rigid as she sucked down the breath the boy no longer could. She didn't know his name, she didn't know the reason for his death, but she sensed his innocence with every cell in her body.

"What are you doing?" His rough voice drew her attention back to him. "Why did you stop?"

"I can't." She drew her hands back as her heart pounded. Her gaze flicked to the end of the alley. She knew it was too late to be of any help, but that didn't stop the urge, the absolute need.

"Get back to it, now." He grabbed her by her long dark hair and turned her face back to his.

She shuddered with fear as his fingers wound through the tangled strands that sprouted from her scalp. Despite the fact that his wrath was enough to make her crumble to the ground in terror, she still tried to pull away. She couldn't fight the urge, even if it meant defying him.

"Just let me go." She pleaded as tears filled her eyes. "I'll come back, I'll come right back."

"Look at me!" His dark eyes took on a golden shine, with a hint of crimson at the core. "You're here with me. Not anywhere else. I'm all that matters, got it?"

Her chest ached as she fought against her natural instincts, it was more painful to resist than his fingers tugging at her hair could ever be. "Please." She breathed the word, unable to speak any louder.

"Get back to it, now." His voice hardened. "Don't make me hurt you Jay, you know that's not good for either of us."

She closed her eyes tight and drew in another breath. This one was hers alone. She focused on the sound of the rain as it splattered against the ground, and the heat of his skin against her scalp. She anchored herself in the alley, instead of wherever that scream had taken her. When she opened her eyes again, she lifted her hands into the air.

Trembling, and covered with blood, they reached for the wound on his side. As she pressed her hands back against the deep slash, her thoughts blurred, until they ceased to exist. She knew only light, pale green and throbbing, as it flowed through her senses. She heard his groans as the flesh knitted back together beneath her touch. Her hands grew hotter and hotter, until he shoved her hard to the ground.

"Enough!" He frowned as he brushed aside his tattered shirt and looked at the burns her fingertips had left on his healed skin.

She pressed her hands against the cool wet surface of the ground and heard a faint sizzle. The light in her mind faded, replaced by a faint, and disturbing pleasure, at the thought of the burns she'd caused. She looked up at him in the same moment that her lips twitched upward into a rare smile.

"Get up." He crossed his arms as he looked down at her.

"I want to leave this place. I don't like it here." Despite the fact that she stood up, she still remained a solid foot shorter than him. "Take me back to the other place, you said it was safe there. I want to go back."

"I told you I have business here. When we're done, I'll take you someplace nice." He caressed her cheek as a few blades of silver hair settled against his eyebrow. "Away from all of this."

"They will kill you Davache." She stared into his eyes, easily perceiving the emptiness there. He'd been different when they first met. She'd believed him then, when he said he would keep her safe.

"Not as long as I have you." He cupped her chin and stared hard back at her. "You stay by my side every second. None of that running off, understand?"

"It was a child." She pressed her hand against her chest as she continued to feel the ache of his death.

"I don't care who it was. You're here with me. Don't forget that." He glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at her. "We need to go, someone's nearby. Not a word." He draped his arm over her shoulder and steered her toward the end of the alley.

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Wanna try that again?

Do your best.” He spat.

The man’s laughter resonated into the cramped, battered room with no lighting or ventilation. It sent a shock of anger deep into his very soul as he was laughed at from the center. The sliding latch was closed and the handle of the door creaked as it opened, momentarily blinding him with another shock of light that he had been without until today. The thin figure of Thel stood in front of the light and illuminated a man slicked and caked in blood with a hollowed look of hunger burning out of his amber eyes. Thel held up a hand and motioned for the third and final contender to be brought forwards. 
The victim was in a surly mood and just a bit more built than the others.

In the hall outside of the room, men glared in and passed notes from one another, sometimes pure coin. No one spoke much of a word as this was not an occasion to be celebrated. The door clicked shut and locked from the outside, then the men that had gathered all waited. Again.

The sound of fighting went on for longer than the last, X'yros was beginning to tire out, he had even received some heavy hits, but silence eventually fell. They all looked at one another with a nod before the door reopened.

Blinding light made the remaining man collapse back from where he had been hovering over the dropped prisoner and the original man began to push himself back against the wall. Whatever Aura that was wrapped around Thel, burned him and made him feel fear despite knowing that he only felt hatred for this man in his soul.
This figure that he had come to know through being tormented for the past week or two returned and actually approached him. X’yros lifted his hand to shield his face and backed into a corner. Behind Thel, a pair of the crew returned and dragged out the body. Now X’yros looked right into the pale face of his newly sworn enemy.

How about now.” His higher voice was lowered, it made his gut twist. 

X’yros lowered his hand once his eyes adjusted and he carefully pressed his back against the stone cold wall behind him.

I was defending myself.” He paused and spat out a mouthful of blood. 

I don't think so." Thel shook his head. "You got involved. And now you're here, still lying."

X’yros swallowed and the muscles in his jaw twitched, he had only acted out to protect the woman, but perhaps killing the younger man had been a little extreme. It had resulted in him getting beaten senseless somewhere in the woods only to wake up here. 

Listen, Wildling, you're not special. I don’t care where you’re from, what you even Are. No one cares, and no one touches the family and lives. You’re nothing now.” The paler man leaned in so close that X’yros could feel his hatred leech off of him. Thel gave him a look up and down before he rocked back onto his heels and stood up. His features were sharp and he didn’t look human… Taller than most men, lean and wiring looking. X’yros swore he never heard a heart beating.

I’d start licking the blood off the walls if I were you. You’re going to be here for a long time.” Thel stopped in the doorway and ran a hand through his pristine snow-blonde hair before replacing his hat on top of his head. “Not forever of course, don’t worry, you won’t be forgotten… The boys will be back when you can barely hold your head up.” He sounded almost excited. “Then we will move you to see my favorite part of this town, where they turn you to food for the crows. Until then, enjoy the Happy house.

There was a glint in his icy blue eyes when he said that  while backing out of the room.

The door was shut, and he was left panting in the darkness now that he was free from the mental restraints, only to grow ever weaker as the days passed him by.

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Kru’Gorah leadership is more than killing people. To be fair it’s like 50% of the job. Solid 50 is murder, but that’s not the point. The point is that sometimes you need to know when it’s time time slaughter someone and when it’s time to slip away. This is more than just a small group of villains trying to take power. There’s people we watch after now, and if we’re to survive and gain enough power to not need protection under another’s rule. You need to realize that we’re all in this together. So I’m not mad that you lost control and attacked. I’m just disappointed you didn’t think about the others we tend for before you did.

Words did not effect The Djinn so easily, unless they were feigning courage or insulting his master...yet this was the first time he had ever felt them thrum through his skull with sickening weight. Dredge hadn't yelled or even attempted to eviscerate him...only disappointment. It was far more harrowing then he realized. He never cared for people, creatures, gods, or aberrations, always donning disguises in public and forced to hide in the shadows; feeding off the terror of isolated people. Hell was cowardice, but this place was full of courageous heroes that emboldened the masses. The public were not afraid of a single djinn no matter his features. His own terror was his only source of food for years. Everything had changed when he found Dredge, who took him in without question, who showed him the scale of his power, the strength of unity. He had become his master, his lord, his savior...his God. Mayhem was grafted to every iota of his being, and yet pitted against Dredge's disappointment...he wishes he could control himself better. An army razing villages and towns producing such terror that it made his body ache with bloodlust, once starved, now engorged, A greater purpose was needed to slake his reckless behavior. Break, Nocturna, The Mistress, the orcs, the goblins...privo. One he most enjoyed the company of. These monsters, demons, and freaks who once banded together under one banner, one purpose. The rain cool upon his disguised face as his idle thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of debauchery. His eyes, now a snowy silver, looked down upon neighborhood where his prey was located. 

It was a rain sick corner of Wicker Town where lost souls and degenerates alike flocked to The Golden Road for their drugs and alcohol, many of the buildings run down and left for squatters to get their next fix. The road itself broken up and near impossible to get a cart over; it was perfect for a gang to monopolize as their territory. Kru'Gorah looking from the squabbling fools meandering the streets to the ramshackled guards that stood outside the only building on the black that didn't have it's windows smashed out or piss and feces across the walls. The Fairchild. A two story building mad up of dull red bricks, it's sign rain scoured and drained of color; much like the rest of the neighborhood. Dredge had given him this chance to redeem his reckless mistake, and he wouldn't fail. He had to think more with his head, and less with his tail.  The information he had received on Marissa 'Hippogriff' Silverwind gave him much to work with, and even tailor made a disguise he felt would aid immensely. Kru'Gorah leaving the darkness of the abandoned building he had been surveying in and beginning to walk the cracked streets.

He adorned mud stained and torn white robes that possessed a brilliant black sun that checkered across the fabric; most of his figure hidden save for his paled hands and face, vestiges covering his bald head and draping across his shoulders as he continued his trek down the mostly abandoned roads. A few chattering figures passing him by before an attempt at robbery was made on his person, faster than he had originally expected. The hooded figure demanding money or death, and Kru'Gorah' 'face' fell to despair as he fell to his knees and produced a coin purse to spare his life. The hooded figure giving him a solid kick before running off quickly. The priest once again standing up and continuing his guise without the slightest inkling of shame. He would do whatever it took to succeed. The proximity of The Fairchild guarded more securely so any further robbery was staved off as he was then stopped by the two guards.
"State yer business stranger"
"There's a fee ta get in, fifty gold or get the fuck outta 'ere priest"

Kru'Gorah bowing his head and producing another purse of coin that weighed far more than fifty gold "I only seek providence with The Hippogriff, my flock need treatment that I cannot provide them...I must turn to...alternative measures of betterment." He said with derision, his hands shambling in desperation. The guards looking at one another and swiping the pouch before opening the door "Don't cause any trouble in their clergyman, no souls worth savin in there". Kru'Gorah entering the bar with a smile as white as his eyes as he immediately felt the warm interior with bar seats taken by quieted souls drinking away their sorrows, more guards moving back and forth from a set of double doors that were constantly being monitored. Eyes darting toward him with suspicion before realizing it was a priest and either sighing or simply shaking their and returning to their beer. Kru'Gorah moving toward the staircase and making his way up to the second floor where workers were shuffling crates of contraband out on pulleys. It seemed that they only had guards on the first floor...she certainly felt safe here didn't she? A snicker escaping his clenched teeth as he made his way toward an office with a glass window. A tall, stout woman with alabaster skin seen sitting at a desk; wings of gray folded at her back. There was no mistaking the aasimar. A few knocking causing her robust voice to call "Come In!

"What kind are you looking for, and how much?" Was her first response as he entered and closed the door, approaching her desk with another bow. It seemed she was no stranger to these sorts of interactions and made a note to keep them brief and concise. Assassination attempts never crossed her mind, and while he didn't want to ruin this opportunity...the stink of her heritage interested him. 
"'Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.' A curious fellow once wrote that quite famously, and it dared made me too, wonder what such dreams could mean. Neither of us are mortal and yet are there still dreams our kind couldn't fathom? is this the dream of the angels your race came from I wonder?" He questioned; her firmness turning to confusion and then to anger as she attempted to stand up. Something curling under her desk and mooring her to her chair. An appendage Kru'Gorah was quite known for.
"What the hell do you think your doing? Do you know who I-"
"Marissa Silverwind, of course...but I am more curious in what you are. An Aasimar? the race graced to us by the holies themselves? Would they not look down onto your gilded bar encroached by disease and drug abuse, would they not weep? Hark for their child is astray. Do you believe your gods are real? I certainly know mine is, and he is going to be gracing this town that always weeps with his leadership."
"You think you can just muscle in on my turf? With your fancy talk and gods? You best leave now before there is trouble" She warned
I am afraid that much like the rain, trouble is all around you and is seeping into every cracking brick and rotting plank, take stock of the situation if you will, I did not muscle in...I walked in." 
The priest taking a step closer as his tail snaked up her form and gripped her with inhuman strength, crushing the wind from her lungs
"Here me now hippogriff, your namesake only works when you possess the mighty wings of a bird does it not? pray tell...what is a hippogriff without it's wings?"

A hand sweeping across the desk and causing it to crash through the office and slam into the door, heavy knocks and calls from the other side immediately causing her to shout for help with what breath she had; the desk being shoved over as the door swung open, another flick of his hand causing the door to swing to a hard close and catch one of the workers mid entrance; splitting him in half and spraying viscera across the glass as screams and shouts were heard. His tail dragging her to his feet as she tried to use her strength to break free, snarling angrily at him as she was set on her knees. His tail leaving a gap where her wings reflexively tried to flap and get her out of danger. His hands reaching out and gripping firmly at the base of each wind. Her angered snarls turning to desperate pleas as she realized what was transpiring
"It is by my god of unholy fire and holy impure that has allowed me to see the error of my ways, to once again prove my worth to his might. I seek to be his holy mouthpiece now, to produce for him a gospel all will bow and listen to. For every god there must be sacrifices made in his name, be proud to be a foundation to his might"

The priest dragging her by her wings and swinging the door open once more where he saw terrified workers looking from the staircase before shouting that 'he had the boss'. Some of the workers tried to fight him, but he flung them into the walls, and outside windows. Doing as instructed and keeping the bloodshed to a minimum. Followers don't posses the same fervor when they are dead afterall. Kru'Gorah dragging her down the stairs and into the bar once more where the guards stood blocking the door while some of the patrons had fled while others were struck with paralyzing fear as the priest' grin cast over them. "Fight me, she will die. We are going to have a sermon outside so follow me outside all of you...or you will all die" He warned. Marissa being put on her knees before the broken road and deplaced neighborhood she ruled. The vagrants peeking from their hovels and looking on at the display, more beginning to crowd them now as the bar cleared out in the same fashion. the guards tense and gritting their teeth as they watched The Priest once again grips either of her wings. 

We are all here today to cast divine judgement upon the divine themselves, Aasimar were once noble and powerful prefects to the gods themselves! She is a mockery of her race and can only be forgiven in prayer. You wayward souls who follow her, drink from her goblet, and beg at her steeple...all of you shall participate for if you don't...the source for which your goblet fills will be lost. If you repeat after me a single inscrutable word that shows the passion of the one who shall rule this kingdom of sodom anew...she shall go free...now repeat after me"


A collective gasp swelling through the crowd as a flesh ripping pull, followed by a sharp agonizing scream was heard. The aasimar collapsing as The priest held her wings aloft 
"Behold! the truth that none of you ever cared for her! If you did then you would have repeated my passion! These wings are only deserving of those who dare to fly with them, she grounded herself long ago...now once again" He called, dropping her wings to the ground and putting both hands on either side of her head 




Much of the crowd dispersing in horrified screams as Her head was twisted around with such ferocity and grace that she now stared back at him with fading surprise that turned to sorrowful death. The guards immediately attempting to charge him, but something swift and blurred swept them off their feet. Kru'Gorah picking up the wings and running paled fingers through the delicate feathers
"I shall take your wings, and fly to heights you never could...false angel


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"And to think humans, who became animals through their own actions are kept here, I have to stay because of some rumors. Not that I have anything against this, but criminals aren't my cup of tea." Dreamer was playing with a barbed wire which would stick out of its place, running it with the index finger, through the places where the spikes would be gone, because of the weather or just because of a manufacturing error. The sudden feeling of metal, which would prove to feel as new, combined with the rain, making it oddly soothing, made the man whose eyes convey stars to study this kind of object. It could prove to be efficient in the future, if he ever had to defend some place or in cruel, desperate situations, to strangle the poor victim's body, in order to force him to spill the informations about a mastermind plan. But the latter was too far-fetched. As time passed and his robe would deflect the water coming out of the heavy, grey clouds, he would inspect the spikes even further, slowly creating it in his mind, until he was able to summon a coil of barbed wire, which would move at the man's orders. It proved to be quite flexible, due to the nature of the resource the wire was made of. Satisfied by the result, he moved his left hand, as an order to disappear and wandered around the town, avoiding mud or puddles, watching the windmills moving slowly or not at all, due to the lack of wind during the rain. Strangely, it would prove to be quite a depressing, but soothing view. 

The two weeks between the visit in the town and the full scale combat in the village, which ended on a dark, humiliating tone, were some of the longest he ever experienced. The thoughts his minds would have to go through, analysing what happened, from the barbarians slaughtering everything in sight, to the evil overlord whose mind was trying to imagine how he would look like. There was no other image that would cause him a chill across his spine, other than the lack of it. The definition of Unknown, merged with the reckoned force would be quite the horrifying combination. Who else wouldn't be scared of a terror which could be anything or anyone? You would never know who is the real antagonist, until he proves otherwise. Regrets went and remained, hurting Dreamer, but he had nothing to do. If this... thing was here, it could be his last shot to catch him. 

He had to stop though, since he felt something sharp touching his chest, but not leaving a cut through the new robe that Maxwell had ordered, made after the exact same model he used to wear before, but the outlines and edges had an effect which would immitate the starry eyes of the Dreamer, plus thin golden lines along these. Knowing the order of a custom robe would be expensive, he wanted to make sure it will be worth it. But what if this piece of clothing would be cut by someone who wanted to hurt him? This is where he was right now, waiting for the aggressor to speak out loud. "I see you are new here... and you look quite rich, I must say. Heheh." The creepy cackle made by the unknown person almost caused Dreamer to shiver, but it was too stupid anyways. "Do you mind giving me whatever you have, so I leave you alone? I don't think a wound through your heart would be better than being arrogant and trying to fight me. Besides, I am not alone." Two coughs, one from the left and one from the right would signal two more persons aiding this thief, who would be more than glad to help him, as long as greed would not prove deadly, except they met the wrong person. "Are you telling me you want to steal a man who is defenseless? Oh. You might be looking for money, but you are useless cowards. Quite sad, to be honest. Mind if I show a trick or two?" He did not wait for an answer, as he summoned three daggers, touching the throats of the three thieves, causing them to gasp loudly. "I suppose you are shocked." He turned, to look at them. All three of them were terrified of the sudden appearance of the ethereal weapons at their throats, knowing there is no escape from the grasp of the strange man. "Unless you want to be served for dinner to animals or cannibals, you might want to run away. I promise i won't kill any of you, but throw whatever weapons you have on you and run, until i don't see you anymore." Said and done. All of them threw their weapons and ran away, getting inside of a damaged, almost destroyed house, which roof was still standing in a single corner. The Dreamer shook his head, as he decided to go back to where Maxwell would find his safe spot, his stomach grumbling in the meantime. Fifteen minutes had passed and he found himself in front of the house Maxwell was residing, knocking on the door, as a respectful gentleman he is first. "Hello again Maxwell. I suppose you'll let me stay with you for the night being, until you get used to this wretched place? Besides, I'm hungry at the moment."

Edited by The Fire Heart

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Some works by Jason Chan - one of my favorite artists - Imgur


Godfray knew his duty well.

Beyond the veil of time and space lay countless alternate realities; some different from this one, others nearly identical. In each of these universes was a man like him. A man carrying a crown for a throne that did not exist. They were all connected to each other, and to the First King. The first had dominated his own reality many eons ago, but it was not enough. From his own essence he created Knights that would be sent to parallel universes to conquer in his name. Most went along with the Kings will without complaint.

But not Godfray.

He despised the First King for creating him only to make him a tool. Yes, he knew his duty. But he would not bow to the whims of his lord. No matter what, he would find the means to sever his ties with his creator once and for all. 

To that end, he had fallen in with a man named Dredge, who had knowledge and technology Godfray had never heard of. Hoping he might help him, the Knight had agreed to help the man achieve his goals. 

Now the house of the man code named Bone Devil was in sight. He placed a hand on his sword and kept walking.


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Mission report: scheduled supervision of site-233.

Departure from Facility-02 +- 1200

Dust kicked up behind the rythmic clapping of hooves on the ground, as two figures raced through the plains of Genessaris through horseback.

Alexander Rookstone, VCF's golden poster boy, is sent for a scheduled supervision. An experiment regarding CS-0992 in site-233, a rather mundane, but necessary task.

Usually, this'd be an open and shut case, an easy 5 minute fly-over on the many magi-tech planes of the VCF from facility to site, yet today he decides to ride on horseback with good reason of course;

He has company.


A-0053, Agent Tempest will be shadowing Rookstone under orders of Researcher Baron to allow her some room to breath, along with allowing her to gain experience under a more, veteran field agent.

Of course, the two barely spoke. Rookstone is usually a sarcastic, witty fellow who brightened anyone's day with his remarks, but he was silent.

There was nothing to be said; Sato wasn't the most engaging of trainees under his command. He figured that riding on horseback would prove a good way to have agent Tempest acquainted with the "older" ways of travel; the much longer way, the harder, dirtier and slower way. This way though, he figured Sato could get a good grip of the landscape; essential for surveying an area as an agent.

But now he reckoned he just made the teenager rather annoyed.


Either way, they continued forward, as their heels buckled under the stress of the stirrups and their stomachs grow sick of the constant bobbing, the sun started to shine a brilliant orange as it set under the horizon. 

Image result for two people on horseback silhouetteRookstone was not acquainted well enough with this new rookie though, as he did not realize her dragon-hybrid situation has led her to have an increased metabolism, in part due to the need to maintain her muscle mass.

"For a teenager, you eat like a horse, kid. We'll re-route, I know a place nearby - don't get your hopes up though." he said, as his trajectory diverted from the straight line the two followed.

He heard rumors.

Town of the damned. Criminal's haven.

Rotten apple, dysfunctional society.

Maybe these rumors are true, maybe they are not. Rookstone doesn't know.

All he knows is merely the name of this settlement -

Wicker town

Mentioned: @Metty



Edited by Sanonymous

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Arashi Sato/Agent Tempest

Arashi was normally a person who talked alot and never was that type of person to be quiet in any situation whatsoever, as she enjoyed speaking and taunting her foes in a good fight. One thing was for sure though, she did sure like to cuss alot. 

"It's too damn quiet around here. I don't like the feeling about this." Arashi said, as she sat on the horse following Rookstone. She also didn't like things that were way too quiet either. This didn't seem right. Maybe she was too hungry. 

That did make her answer her superior on that matter though. "You do know dragons can eat like...I dunno...cows as a whole? I mean I can't...but I know some can." Arashi was somewhat of a smartass that hated listening to orders but as long as there is a good amount of food involved, she was in, nonetheless. It was better than working as a mercenary for that damn Linda Linda person. She seemed creepy as all hell but she gave good rewards. 


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"The fuck is a Wicker Town?" 

Saki-san turned towards the speaker. It was one of her armed escorts, the crazy chick named Sera. After the events that happened in the Cold Mountains that one time, she has long since hired these two idiots to protect her. Since she's long since retired from the dangerous life of a combatant and living a diplomat's life, she figured she could just pay someone else to do the fighting for her.

Looking back to the confused woman, Saki-san gave her a pained smile. "It's a place, Sera. For criminals."

"But why are we going there?"

'To find new recruits for my clan," replied Saki-san, her voice straining from keeping herself as composed as possible.

"Fucking hell."

"Calm down, Sera. Why don't you be a good girl like Khaki here?" Saki-san gestured at her other armed escort. The little girl named Khaki was not listening to their banter as she was more interested at the two people riding horses. It seems that this pair is heading the same as the trio. Khaki's eyes lit up as she recognized a familiar face.

"Hey!" Khaki called out to the two. "Dragon-lady! Over here!"


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Mission report: scheduled supervision of site-233.

Departure from Facility-02 +- 1200

The town is not necessarily massive, but it was no Palgard either. Behind the rolling plains and the grassy fields lay a town of wretched intentions. The stench of crime could be picked up miles away, as the seemingly nice town, a rather calm and peaceful facade was in truth hiding dark secrets.

The town represented everything that the foundation, one he held so dearly, is against.


Order. Chaos.

Hierarchy. Anarchy.

Law. Crime.

Containment. Freedom.


He would comission this town to be taken over, these criminals to be handed to the nearest settlements to be taken care of, but he knows that is not possible. These inmates are condemned, no chance of them being detained within Aelindra's borders. As they came closer, the barbed wired fence came into view; the only thing seperating these wretched souls from the freedom they so seek.

It's a rusty, pathetically maintained, barely standing fence. One stronger than the average folk could tear it apart. Rookstone probably knew though; those who were sent into this hellhole probably would love to stay in here too -- with their own kind.


Thieves, murderers, serial killers, arsonists, all were locked up in here. He'd rather not have their horses taken in the night, or even worse cut up for lunch. These horses were specially bred by the VCF, not only loyal but smart; capable of defending themselves if need be.

Hearing the teenager's smarky remark, he couldn't help but shoot a grin, but losed it as soon as he saw an entrance.

"We'll go on foot from here; the horses will wait for us outside the town walls." he said as he stopped and hoisted himself off the horse, expecting Arashi to follow suit.

As he entered the few gatehouses there were, he was met with unwelcome gazes by the town's inhabitants. He didn't like it, but he sure as hell needed the supplies if they were to meet their journey's end.

He hoped no trouble, but before he could even think that exact thought...


"Dragon-lady! Over here!"



Mentioned: @Metty @Zashiii

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Arashi listened to Rookstone as she got off the horse and began to follow untill...she heard a familar voice. One that just made her angry as all hell. She swore this lady was out to follow her everywhere and ruin her day. Arashi turned around and glared at Khaki, looking pretty mad at her. 

"Listen, I don't know who you are, but you seem to keep following me. Please leave me alone or I will beat you up next time we meet." Arashi sighed. She said in a loud enough voice, not going to deal with Khaki's shit today. She had enough of those two. They seemed to be a pain. 

She continued forward with her mission however, as she wasn't interested in the two.

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Shallow and short were the orc’s breaths, his body unresponsive to Dredge’s words. Limp and defeated was his posture as he hanged bare from the barbed wire wrapped post. Did he deserve to be up there? Was he the victim in all this? All of this was superfluous in the eyes of Dredge. Something that was inconsequential, since all that really mattered was that this man was here along with many others. On the outskirts of Wicker Town were the truly damned. Those that even the most vile of society had thrown away and decided there was no place for. The kind of people that Dredge tended to enjoy, and the kind that he so often used to see his goals accomplished. These people would be no different. With a quick scan of the area, Dredge clocked four more living people strapped and hanging from these wooden posts wrapped in barbed wire. They would do just fine. 


”eukcape mausan mimba.” A foreign tongue left Dredge’s mouth. A language native to the man he spoke to. 


With rain beating down on the mud soaked and wire shredded body of the Orc, his head picked up slowly to stare at the mountain of a man that stood before him. Weakly and with a bloody cough the Orc took a deep breath before speaking back to Dredge. 


”Leav alnej avo mat.” He once more coughed and took another shallow and uneasy breath of air as he winced in pain. Every breath was agony as his chest raised to scrape against the wire wrapped around him. 


”No jiak evinaj ukee lat avhrive” Dredge then put a hand up to the Orc’s cheek and lifted his head up. 


”I would see you all thrive.” With those last gentle words, it had begun. 


The mission was simple really. Kill the crime lords and assume control of their organizations. When it came to plans and executing them, Dredge operated with ruthless efficiency. Rarely did he ever deviate from them and if he did it was always out of changing circumstances that called for the necessity to do so. However, when he saw this Orc and these other dammed souls, not only did he see opportunity, but he saw himself as well. Seeing these men and women tied to these posts reminded him of himself in his younger days. Thrown away and casted down by the world and forced to survive on a planet made of garbage and filth. Scraping by and barely managing to save himself and his people through whatever means necessary. He saw the path that made him who he was today, the one that took a bright eyed young warrior and priest and twisted them into the visage that stood there on this alien world. But that was a story for another time. 


For now what little empathy the man had left spurred him into this moment. Placing a hand on the Orc’s head his magical energy would begin to flow, and anyone who had been there at the monastery in the cold mountains would be able to feel that malevolent energy once more. Filling the Orc and the other prisoner’s souls with dark and terrible energy, their bodies began to mend themselves of their wounds and amplify in strength and power. The wire bonds that kept them shackles to these wooden posts snapped underneath this new found strength. 


”Now go. Go and kill those who put you there. Then return to me and embrace your new lives.” Following his words, a blood curdling cry for blood and death left the mouths of these men turned beasts. If anything, they would serve as decent distractions for Legion’s crews of commandos and operatives within the town. They would run out into the stormy night and find those who had so greatly wronged them, and they were not subtle about it. 




”All teams, All teams, this is Overlord Actual. Target Codename Hippogriff is neutralized. Proceed to targets Bone Devil and Drider. Be advised unknown personnel have been spotted entering Whiskey Tango from the western fence. Threat level unknown.” The cold and professional voice of Legion operators chimed in on the comms from the nearby forest tree line. A small LP had been formed to keep an eye on town and see that the operation was a success for the boots on the ground. 


Target Bone Devil was being handled by some of Dredge’s more trusted individuals, people of in the business of death and destruction and business was very good for them. As for Target Codename Drider, that was one Inmate Number 836 George St Vincent. A man who ran a enforcer gang and often saw to the roughing up of people who either didn’t pay up, or upset the natural order. His gang of criminals who tended to lean towards the more criminally violent types would make a good addition to Dredge’s collection of groups. Slowly stalking through the rain was the deathly quiet movement of one of Dredge’s teams. A five man outfit all armed to the teeth with concealed fire arms on their persons. As they moved silently towards a residence on Plum and Thirteenth Street, a small two story building that had a few guards posted outside of it. They began to take stock of the situation. They had one target down and another being hunted by people who would one hundred percent get the job done. George and his brother would not be eliminated quietly, but they couldn’t draw too much attention to themselves or risk back up coming to overwhelm them. As strong as they were, at the end of the day they were simply well trained soldiers and not gods of magic and power. So it came down to one que- 


”CRUUKH!!! DREPA!!! MAT!!” Rushing past the team of commandos who stood across the street from Drider’s residence, was a massive and raged out of their mind Orc that barreled through the unsuspecting guards that stood watch at the front door. 


The power of massive fists caused the loud crunching and snapping of skulls and bones while this Orc was on a warpath. Like ragdolls he threw the men across the mud covered street and shortly after kicked down the door of Drider’s home. 


”GEORGE!!” The beast screamed into the residence. 


As for the commandos, they simply stood there with a confused and somewhat distant looks across all their faces. Deciding to take a step back, they would wait and see how this all turned out or provide QRF to any other Legion forces that needed them. The plan was well under way and there was still more to be done before it would be complete. 

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