boneless1

The dirt danced and shielded the entirety of Artatrions' house. His body slammed against the stone wall of his home. His breath escaping him in a pain wretched gasp. As he lie upon his floor fighting for the ability to catch his breath his eyes search for bodies hiding within the dirt fog. He could only hear the sound steel connecting with steel, and the cold sound of flesh ripping. He had prayed that it not be Aleria. Artarion quickly grasped his bow and jumped to his feet. His eyes squinting in pain as the dirt settles within his eyes. As seconds pass the dust began to settle, his vision clearing he could see a figure lunging at him from only two feet away. With quick and agile response Artarion side steps making his attacker lose his balance int he force of his own swing. He stumbles forward only slightly but the opportunity was priceless. Artarion jolts forward in that second, his leg launching at full force at his bent knee. The sound of bone cracking and bending to his force echos throughout his home. The curdling scream from within the helmeted figure was...impressive. Before he could fall Artarion had already knocked back his bow, bending it as he pulls back with strength. He then releases the arrow into the back of the mans kneck, silencing his pain riddled cry. He looks over seeing Izelia fighting off a staff wielding wizard. Izelia's figure dodging back and forth from his blows. Fire and ice cracked and flew pass Izelias form as her blows deflected and parried by the mans staff. He was skilled, he could fight within close quarters with just a staff. The distraction of Alerias' battle took its' toll on Artarion. A sensation of pain electrified through his body as a blade sliced at his side. It wasn't it deep but it sent Art recoiling from the blow. The steel clad figure heaving back for another strike Artarion jumps back. He tosses his own bow to the side as he takes hold of his rapier. He grins and bows his head ever so tauntingly to his new fleshy opponent. "The boss wants your 'ead Artie, lets be still and lemme 'ave it!" "Vokes? He sent you to take it? Well, isn't that a shame." Artarion held his side with one hand and the other wielding his rapier. His stance lowered in a defensive gesture. "First move boy." The angered Vokes came swinging. He wasn't fast, nor was he very much skilled with a blade. Art quickly parried Vokes attempt at an over head swing toward his dome. Vokes lurched forward but ducked just in time as Arties' Rapier graced only the tip of his helmet. Vokes spun on his heel, his blade arcing to the side as he attempts another sweep of Artarions torso. Art jumps back regaining his footing with quick skill he jabs his rapiers point as his opponents neck. His front foot directing his ever movement and with each quick jab his foot would take a leap sending Vokes back one foot at a time. Vokes immediately began to struggle at blocking Artarions quick and precise attacks. At once Vokes was pinned down by his opponents speed. His teeth gritted against each other. Artarions face held certain stern expression as it was unreadable his eyes locked on Vokes. He began to strike flesh one bit at a time, slicing as his arms, torso, legs and wrists. Vokes was defeated and he knew it. The swordplay went on for only a mere thirty seconds and Vokes had already lost the ability to hold his blade. His wrists dripping in blood. Vokes, defeated and battered in such a way he just stood there staring at Artarion. He had his rapier pointing at his neck, a small smirk growing on his face as he presses it within his skin. The thin blade like butter seeps into his neck. Thick crimson dripping from the growing hold in his neck. He dropped to the floor limp and quick. His form twitching its last twitch. Art looked back to Aleria who had clearly finished the wizard and was watching it like it was some sort of performance. "No you must go, as should I. This will be the last time we meet Artarion." She spoke with a sense of reluctance as she tossed a bag of coin. "A offer of truce from friends far and close." Artarion caught the small leather bag, tying it to his sash. "Over?" He shook his head. "No..Aleria..I assure you that we are far from over. This is a betrayal..and I shant forget it." Artarion left his body ridden home, his life began a new. He headed towards the stables located right infront of the main gate. It is said that a group of travelers had left not too long ago and he sent out to find refuge amongst them.

At the highest peak of the day, when the sun is at its warmest the crystal blue eyes of a man opened in a faint shutter of his eyes. At that moment his vision met the cieling of his small home tucked within the docks of this robust trading city. He could hear the voices of shipyard workers, sailors and captains alike. The warm welcome of his home, Innarlith at his door step. Immedialy Artarion slipped on his tunic, which was folded on the night stand near his bedding. A loose and thin blanket made of wool and a cheap bed he could barley get comnfortable in. He ran his fingers through his black and silver hair. The tip of his fingers rubbing against his scalp gently as he pushes back his almost mane like hair. A long drawn sigh wisping from his throat as his thoughts stuck upon the subject of what he shall do this day. Artarion hopped off his bed, gathered his leather pants and boots and slipping them on. His eyes darting to the side of his bed that was pressed against the wall. He scanned within the thin and narrow space he had between the bed and the stone wall, a shining peice of steel glimmering by the suns ray that escaped through the cracks of his windows. A faint smile of remembrance graces his cheeks as his hand grasps the hilt. The weight was precise-perfect in every form for him and him alone. It's tip ever so sharp. He slid the blade between his cloth belt and leather pants on his left side. His weary state had left him yet again...weary. A pale of water set across his home just for the occassion. His home you must understand is quite small. A few feet this way and your nose is touching a wall, a few feet that way and in your in the kitchen, another few feet that way and- well you get the idea. Artarion resumed casual steps towards where the pale was set. He leaned down slighty dipping his hands within the pale slowly andsplashed some water upon his tan skin. The touch of lifes finest creation embracing him. His eyes sparked to life as the weariness quickly regressed into more of a casual awarness of whats going on around him. Artarion dabbed his sleeved on his face to dry what drops remained on his chin. His gaze shot to the door as a knock sounded. Arts' brow rose in curiosity, it wasn't the steady beat of a knock. It was frantic almost. It was fast and uneven. Aratarion loosened his belt upon his rapier just in case. He approached the door slowly but surley a reasonable pace. He reaches for the door and opens it. His eyes come upon the figure of a woman. He curved figure complementing her slightly masculine attire. She wore tunic that was tight to the chest but loose on the arms. The sleeves would buckle when the winds would pass them. She had the norm mix of pants and leather strapped around it. Her skin slightly pale but of a clean complexion. A well rounded woman with curled red hair and emerald eyes. Her lips creased into a smile as she placed both hands on her hips, "Afternoon Artie." Artarion gave a small smile to the woman at his door and nodded. "Afternoon Aleria I-" Aleria waved her hand dismissvley. "No pleasentries Artie, let me in. I heard of something you might like!" Her voice filled with a sort of excitment Artarion knew all to well. She walked past Artarion and sat on a char nearby the doorway. She turned to him as he closed the door shut. Her hand gesturing to the bed. "Take a seat Artie." "Rather direct is it not Aleria." Art chuckled and sat down his focus now on Aleria as her excitment she is containing seems almost explosive. "You seen that small army that passed by?" Artarion shook his head in response. "I have not. Why are you telling me this?" Artarion tilted his head slightly in a questioning manner. "Well..think about it Artie. Your skills are not meant for a place like this. Your marksmen a damn fine one! A little rusty on the sword play but a damn good archer. You did damn fine in the company as well. You were well regarded and praised. Sad you left so suddently. " "I am sure." Artarion responded with well mannered sarcasm. "Yes...a shame it was..well on to the point. You're going to be quite hurt when I say this. You uh..you are aware of how the company is falling apart yes?" Her voice become catious and steady. Almost as if she was hesistant to say. Artarion shifted in his bed a little to get more comfortable. Aleria's eyes wandered slightly and Artarion finally spoke. "Yes....business was quite slow. Still is I hear." "Well, you remember Stoney? Hm..well...someone cashed in all his coin yesterday." "Someone stole the bosses coin..all of it..the company's coin..." Artarion reached a state of bewilderment. "And what does this have to do with me." "You've been named." "What...are you talking about.." Art quickly responded with a sense of tensity that was mixed with anger. "Your the most recent to leave..and without a word. We're taking whats left of what we have and running." Aleria sounded remorseful. But not for Artarion. "We...we..no. You mean you. You and whomever you planned this scheme with." A distasteful look grew on Artarions face. "How long has he suspected?" "Few hours ago. I'm certain he has some lads looking as we speak." Artarion got up from his bed. An infuriated expression growing on his face. He turned around and lowered himself to where he pulled a chest out from underneath his bed. Dust followed its trail as his hand dragged it from under. He then placed it ontop of his bed. Its fine wood surface clean and not a spec of dust. He pops open the top revealing his armor. "If your wondering why I havent gutted you is because of what your doing." Artarion began to assemble the peices of armor he had. He slid his chainmail tunic over his tunic. Then he strapped his left leather pauldron on as well as his steel plate on his right. He then continues to strap on the vambraces for his boots and slip on the cloth mantle with his hood. A quiver of arrows were at the bottom covered by cloth. And under the quiver was his bow. Artarions weapon of choice. "Oh don't worry friend. He'll find out soon enoguh it wasn't you. I am here to help." "You did enough of that." "As I said. I am here to help. Now Artarion. Notch an arrow and aim at the door. There will be a horse just outside the main gates where the stables are. A horse is awaiting you. Its a rather noticable steed. Look for the saddle with the velvet bow tied onto it." Artarions gaze went to the outside. His hand gliding to his quiver as he notches an arrow and draws back at the door. He realized streets grew quiet, no longer were the merchants outside yelling, no longer were the shipmasters rining their bells. Aliera had her her daggers in her hands. Her emerald eyes staring at the door awaiting a moment Artarion now knew was coming. "Gods know we'll be having a conversation about this....be damned Aliera.." Artarion pulled the bow to its full extension. The sound of steel clanking upon steel echoed in the back ground. Aleria quickly hushed Artarion with a hiss. Her eyes gestured to the door as the steel thump ceased its echo. A blink of an eye and the door shot back and shattered, the force of the door hitting Artarion so hard it launched him back.

Name: Artarion Whitestrake Race: Human Age: Fourty-two Class:Fighter/Sorcerer Alignment:Neutral Deity:Helm Place of Origin: Appearance: Artarion Whitestrake//Appearance- Artarion is a fair built man, he isnt to small nor too large. His lean build and loose clothing hide his rather defined form. He stands at an even 5'10. His defining points are his visible and yet strong jaw line; which is covered in a rough outline of black. His cheek bones are set high to boast his "royal-esque" which he is entirley not. His eyes shine a glimmering blue, betraying his usual neutral gaze. His hair drooping over his shoulders and onto his back. He stands proud, conveying a sense of honesty, loyalty. Armor/Clothing: His armor is a combination of leather,chainmail, and cloth. He is usually seen walking about in his casual white tunic which is loosely fit around himself; followed by his black leathered pants and boots. His belt fastened around him holding his rapier on his left and dagger on his right. A necklace is tied about his neck, a simple string cord in which he treasures. When armored he dorns a chainmail vest with shortented sleeves, the cuffs of his tunic lie beneath and tucked under his black gloves. He then equips what is left of his armory, a leather pauldron that is fastened on his left and a steel pauldron that covers the right from shoulder to arm. His right hand clad with a decorative steel vambrace. Personality: Artarion is a man of loyalty, well to those whom he respects. He is also is the type to speak when the time arises or if questioned. He is not one to spout for the pleasure of filling the void of silence. He estimates, calculated and projects his thoughts in a clear and conveying way. He is not one for shying away from truths. He isn't at all a monotone man as he has his few jokes, and laughs. Artarion can be summed up to be a calm man for the most part. Although a human has his defining and flawed moments. History: Artarion had a harsh upbringing. As a child he was mentored in sorcery but failed miserably at anything that counts as a major spell. His parents had the expectation of a survivor. As both his mother and father found it to be vital that in a world like this. You must be able to take care of yourself. You must be able to protect yourself from the dangers that the world throws at you. Artarion was taught the meaning of thought, not speech. He was carved into the personality in which he has now. At every turn Artarion would be the one fending himself. At the age of sixteen his parents had died, his inheritence stolen; his once wealthy family vanished one night only leaving stains of blood. With the fear of him being accussed of their murder he fled his home. For twenty-six years Artarion resided within the city of Innarlith. His life with little friends, doing jobs for the dockworkers, ship captains and what ever comes his way. He never gave his passion up for the bow and blade (rapier) his most cherished possession is his fathers rapier. It's grip designed to appear as if steel vines wrapping around until the head of the pommel. He owns a small home near the docks of Innarlith.Its' built of stone and quite quaint. To this day Artarion lives a life of relative peace. The nightmares of his family now faded into history he lives a humble life. Or does he?

Late Evening. Bloated Float Inn The sun had retired, giving its' sister moon time to present its white gaze. Stone arrived within the Bloated Float a good while ago. He had assigned about three of his men to hide themselves within the inn. They did a fair enough job for Stone could not see them. This for him reassured him he was not an amateur. He slowly drummed his fingers upon a round table he had always been reserved since he had taken over. Sitting within a corner where many ears were out of distance and where eyes would rarely travel. The inn was dimly lit with the candles that sat upon the table. Flickering about to the slight air movement within the float. Stone wore his same attire he had worn when he was given the duty of welcoming the Crimson Crow. The laughter the voices, the music and even the dancing kept him distracted from his nearing meet. Stone had been watching for some time and now his eyes flickered to a new approaching figure. The figure was female. She wore a black leather attire as she took her seat in front of Stone. He nodded as she returned the nod. "You hear about the arrival Anise?" Stone said at the moment she sat. Her blue eyes gaze a startled look but her emotional expression unchanged. She shook her head as she replied. "I have not Stone. Please do elaborate if you wish." "My elaborations are not needed Anise. You'll know soon enough." Stone gave a coy smile. Anise shrugged as she then spoke. Her voice melodic and soft. "You asked for my presence....boss?" "Mmm..yes I need your assistance again Anise. This business is odd..not very odd..but odd enough." Stone spoke with a rather contemplating tone as if he was not sure but had to be careful. "I suppose caution is reasonable..." "It is Anise. What I need you to do is strictly you and I. Understand?" Anise nodded as she tapped the table. Stone dropped a hefty leather bag containing a large amount of imperials. She took it, feeling its weight and smiled. "We have a deal then.." Stone said "Yes. We do. Tell me what you need Boss." "I need you to look into the Crow case. Then double back and follow up on the relation between the Alrien Family and the Crow. Somethings up. There has to be. The Crows aren't ones to simply come into a city that threatens with disease, poverty and a crime rate that the divines gasp about." Anise nodded. Seeing where Stone was going she had already taken notes mentally. She continued to listen to Stone as she flicked a stray black hair from her tan cheeks. "You believe the Alriens ties to the Crows would be strong enough to persuade the Crow to return....and..kill you?" "Why not? House Alrien threw a large sum of imperials at them so he might as well have them on the pay roll. Or at least a hundred and some odd number of them." "And a imperial emissary came to you and informed you of their impending arrival? I do not see why the officials would want you dead." Stone shook his head and smiled. "That is the thing. I have come to a reasonable conclusion that they do not know. Even though the emissary is a bloke I do not think they knew of there arrival. I have Midas at the docks speaking to ship masters. Those that passed by the ship that carry the Crow keep us in the loop of how long we have till then. I...in the end will have to create a big festival to greet them." Anise thought quietly for a moment. Joining Stone with a drink as a waiter came by. She sipped the ale thoughtfully as she pondered her moves. "What if you wrong?" She said as she went for another sip. This gave Stone a jolly chuckle as he shrugged. Anise sighed shaking her head. "What if I am m'dear..that is the question that haunts everyone in my occupation. Although one can never know the answer. One must always be prepared in my line of work. So here I am Anise. Trying to be prepared for a damn good party or a damn good blood bath." He smiled as he chugged the rest of his ale then stood. He tossed a few coins on the table and then looked at Anise. "Find out what you can before dawn tomorrow. Report back to me once you have the information." He patted Anises little black head as he walked by. She smiled as she watched him leave. "It was good to see you again...boss."

Within the cluttered office a man sat. His quill pen shifting about in the wrists of a rather well built man. His bald dome shining with the sweat that flooded his face. It was a humid day. Awfully hot and sticky. Stone who sat impatiently and uncomfortably signing a incessant wave of papers became rather antsy. He was having a day that rather reflected his mood. He was troubled and rather confused. He signed off the last parchment as a robed man looked to him with a perked brow. "Is that all boss?" He said with a rather annoying tone. Stone scratched his small beard and grunted. "By the nine no. I have a extensive write off I must do within the hour or Alice will have my arse." Stone replied as he looked at his intern rather plainly. The robed man sighed and nodded. He then walked to the opposite side of the room which lead out into a small hallway. Stone who stood from his desk on the opposite of the office walked over to a large window that looked out into the docks. He smiled, letting a hand slither in front of his face. He clenched a fist then released it. He smiled. Letting the hand go limp at his side. He had built this district. Refurnished taverns, a few low key brothels. Perhaps a dozen gambling joints but he wasn't counting. A low knock came from his office door. His gazing ceased as he glanced back. Placing a hand onto his side where he had a small dagger in his belt. "Come in." Stone said as the door opened at a slow pace. This would make Stone quite cautious but he knew who it was. A small child had walked in. The height of which would be at the knob of the door. It was a girl. Her hair was lush brown and she was missing some teeth. She wore a plain blue dress with buttons sewed into the shoulders. She gave a cocky smile. "Hey Pa." She said hopped onto a seat in front of his desk. Stone smiled as he gave a jolly laugh and said. "Hello my divine." He smiled as he knelt down in front of her a affectionate smile radiating from his face. The child gave Stone a stern look. This in turn made him chuckle but he waved a hand and said. "Oh serious business then. Right let me take a seat." Stone stood, then walked around his desk and sat into his rolling chair. He leaned back within it and said. "Well dear Katlina. What is it that you most urgently need me." "I need a favor." "Oh..what does this favor partake in." She gave a sweet smile. At this instant Stone knew what she was going to ask for. He gave a rather unsuprised look as he then grabbed a key that was laying beside a book. He then turned the lock on a drawer unseen to Katlina. He then began to count some coin. Throwing about a dozen on the table he then smiled. "Does this fit your standards dear Katlina." Stone asked with a coy grin. She nodded. Hopping up from the seat and gave Stone a big embracing hug. Stone returned the hug fully and watched his daughter take her leave. Stone smiled for but a moment a man suited in armor besides the helmet dodged his joyful daughter and came into the room. Stone stared at the armored man with a annoyed gaze. The man was aware of Stones discomfort. He opened his mouth to speak but Stone raised his hand for him to cease. "You know of what I ask. You disregard my wishes."Stone said in a cold tone. "I do not wish to interrupt your personal affair Master Stone. Although...it was quite urgent." The emissary spoke with a rather confident tone. Damn high imperials. Stone then sighed. "Well..next time you enter without knocking i'll cut you good understand." He looked to the emissary who was unaffected by the threat. Although Stone was all very serious about what he said. "Go on then dog. Speak you words and sing your song." He pointed to the seat in front of his desk. The emissary then nodding unphased by the insult he then gave a smirk. "We have a rather unforeseen happening." "Well what is it?" "It's a delicate situ-" "I don't care dog." "Fine...by this time tomorrow a ship will be arriving. The ship holds a group of investors that are highly respected amongst us." Stone chuckled to the amusement but the humor fell flat with the Emissary. The emissary shifted in his seat then continued. "The ship holds The Crows of Crimson." Stone raised a brow. "About one-hundred and twelve." Then stone choked. Stone gathered his professionalism then nodded. "What in the name of the nine do you want me to do about it..." The emissary then smiled as he gestured outside the window. "Give them a warm welcome. Rent out a tavern for the night with some woman. Then I would recc-" Stone held up a hand. "You want me to do something that is far below my occupations level." The emissary then showed a slight shy sliver of disappointment in his face. "You control the docks Master Stone." A fair point Stone then thought. Stone pursed his lips for a moment. "I'll deal with it. It wont be on my priority list but it will be somewhere. I will be sure to appoint the most trusted of my associates to greet them." Stone smiled and extended his hand to shake. The Emissary stood and shook the hand firmly. He then gave a smile of suspicious intent. "In person Master Stone." At that Stone simply noted that he might be getting hit. Although he just smirked and nodded. The emissary left and Stone now sat and sunk in his chair. "Doyle.." Stone yelled. Doyle the man in the robe popped up in the door. Stone then said. "Go inform Alice, Tricia, Delivio, and Artarion." Doyle nodded letting his long hair drape below hiding his face. He then takes his leave as Stone leaned back in his chair. Awaiting the next day.

Character sheet: Name: Stone Whitestrake Occupation: Stone is an operator. He controls the imperial cities docks. He controls the lowest and dankest part of the Loyalists binding control. He keeps all those that borrow money from the company within line. Making sure that they pay on time. He controls numerous taverns, brothels and gambling joints scattered within the district. Stone is a man who operates the lowest to highest of crime in the docks. From illegal shipments to weapon importing. He is one of the many disks within the spine of the city. He is who many call "Boss". He would have hired muscle, hired assassins, and even magicians to aid within his tasks. Age: 45 Gender:Male Race:Imperial Personality:Stone is a serious man. He is about business without fanciful distractions and side topics. He is straight to the point and calculating. He takes his time within every movement planning each step to over shadow his opponents. He wears a mask to many. He is a man of generous and humble opinion when in present to the public. Although behind the curtain he is a man of a cold mind. Weapon: A great sword. Appearance: Stone is of mild build. His muscle is shown although his stomach is slightly bulging due to the liquor he drinks during his works. His head is shaven and bald as it gleams to the beating sun. His beard is full grey and cleanly shaved. Wrinkles of experience cover his face as a scar as well is shown upon his right eye. His bright blue iris's deep and staring as a mere glance would petrify those around him. Stone wears a basic steel plate chest piece over a blue blouse that is under it. A large sash as well wrapped around body as it shines crimson. He wears a signet ring of his family the "Whitestrakes". He stands at a 5"11. Armour: Steel Breastplate/Blue tunic underneath/Plate Greaves/Black Leather leggins/ Left shoulder Pauldrons/ Right arm unarmored only showing the tunic. History/Biography: Stone is a man of hard work. He had been working from the lowest level of muscle for his predecessors. For years he had been within the lowest of branches within the community. As a young boy he had been taken up to serving within a tavern. As events turned the tavern was burned down and the man he now works for took him under his wing. Letting him deal with those who does not pay or is in need of protection. Years pass as he takes his boss's place. Controlling a small part of the market district. Although his power was now apparent he was thrown in to dangerous war with competitors. Through months of bloody war within the city he was at a loss. His house had been dishonored and he now was set aside and kicked out of the market district. He who was at the very least lucky for getting out of the war with his life. He set up a small office within the docks. Using his little coin he hires muscle slowly taking a tavern. Steadily gaining income as he sneaks within the society he was pushed within. He then grows into a larger business. Competitors soon realize his sudden appearance. Though Stone thought the process out. Anticipating their realization he hired several assassins. Stone had already gained much territory without his competitors realization. Taking it from under them. Stone then ordered the deaths of five officials. Successfully slaying the five he had taken over the whole district within a month. Loyalist politicians then realize his rising power. Now Stone runs the Docks. Through political schemes and assassinations it all leads to him within the end. Now he sits within his office dealing with his every day intrusions.

Chapter 2 Territory "You see Artarions little show?" A voice spoke, the tone was of rather contemplating and deep thought. He stood, biting into a apple keeping a watch on passing peasants and other small time people. Watching them commune and converse as if the execution never happened, as if families did not lose a single soul this day, The two, who stood leaning against a stone wall were within the district of the most appalling poverty within the city of Adrilisa; the capital city of the empire and whom their angelic emperor resided. Trash was at every corner, woman in tattered clothing offering themselves to the lowest of all life, it was truly a sight so see within the city. Across the city where the rich swell their bellies whole on the other side of the capital. While the ones who work throughout their lives with little pay get to starve and fight for the pickings. It was out of normality for these people, they had no vision of what the west and east side of the city looked like. They would sit there in the streets dreaming of the heaven that is just beyond the massive gates that separated the rich and the poor, the loved and the hated. But yes this common district which was another name for the poorest section of the capital was ripe with fruit. It was the most wealthiest spoils for any house and house Lyrron had it to himself. Throughout his life he controlled this area and now it is threatened. "Was I suppose to?" A soft voice echoed throughout the ally, it was a man though. A rather small and skinny like figure, not much muscle but the speed compensates for lack of it he supposed. The rather large of a brute man, who was shaved bald. His head gleamed with the reflection of the shining sun. Looked to the small man with a raised brow. His expression rather showing slight confusion and aggression, but the slender man took note that it was his normal look. All brute but no brain. He was from this district to be exact, his accent was of a more dwarvish sounding lisp. Although he was no dwarf he spoke and sounded like on, it struck the slender man quite odd but he did not come to care in the next few moments. The brute wore a simple tan tunic with lacing about his collar and down to his chest. Leather leggins that had reinforced knee cap protection when he does the dirty work. A large broad sword hung from his back within a sheathe, it was crafted for him since he was the only one strong enough to wield it with two hands. "I suppose you hop from roof to roof, window to window and such..would a execution be more of an..eh..entertainment?" The brute said, his eyes on the cold blue iris of the slender man. "Bah," The slender one snarled shaking his head. "We are not to be barbarians Midas, we are of higher quality then that. The Whitestrake House are full of..merciless killers and they are a house that should be put to the stake." Midas nodded, tossing the apple aside with a grin. "You...are a merciless killer Balian, so don't be calling we men of stature brutes." Balian rolled his eyes, he knew Midas was jesting but he did not care. So Balian checked his weaponry hidden behind his cloak, the throwing daggers, the rapier on his waist, the short sword strapped on his back, poisoned darts, and at last his coin purse for amusement that is. Balian wore a dark brown cloak, that covered is weaponry, though the sound of it clanking together couldn't be helped. He wore no armor, he would much rather stick to his clothing. A loose tunic that was usually worn by bards but he had it for reasons untold, leggins made of the fine black cloth and leather boots strapped tight to his feet. "Heads up." Balian said quietly, he gestured with a nod towards a local brothel they owned and protected. Midas peered over, looking to the center of the street which were filled with commoners and run down one story buildings besides the wooden brothel which was between two housing structures. Balian narrowed his eyes to the three men who approached, they had weapons and fine ones at that. "Steel, Crimson Crows." Midas nodded. "Forty five coins say those are Mennians men." Midas glanced to Balian, awaiting an answer for their bet to who is who. Balian concentrated, he flexed his wrist as he tested the spring that released his throwing dagger into his capable hands. Balians eyes grew wide, he looked to Midas noting that he had the same expression. Within the streets one of the fine clothed men grinned, harassing the woman who stood outside by pushing and shoving. Though that was not what caught Midas and Balian off guard, it was a shining glow coming from one of their palms. A red glow, then green, then yellow. "They have a sorcerer." Balian muttered, cursing under his breath as he gritted his teeth. "Wait for it." Balian said, they have not been spotted but they soon will be if they happen to see them do anything stupid. At that moment the one with glowing palms kicked the brothel doors open, raised his palms readying a magical strike. In a spur of blood a throwing dagger impaled right threw the magicians chest appeared. He fell to his knees gurgling his own putrid blood, trying to say words but nothing coherent. Steel appeared in the other two's hands in a blink of an eye, searching within the screaming crowd of who committed the vile act. Balian used the cover of the scattering crowds to cover himself, to be one with the crowd and be invisible to the obvious. Midas, who took off in his own spur of rage had already made contact with the two, swinging his war sword at them with all his might. Balian quickly tossed another throwing dagger when he made eye contact with one of the men. Quick and agile Balian ducked from the mans sword, missing his throwing dagger shot he pulled his rapier coming to a stance which startled his opponent. Balian smirked, knowing fencing was something unheard of within the empire. Though it did not stop his opponent from charging with his sword raised high and his face full of rage to come swing without paying attention. Balian side stepped his swing, playing with his opponent like a game he sliced his wrists with a flick of his wrist and a step forward. The man, mumbled curses which in turn amused Balian. The man came at him, Balian who was full and ready feinted an attack, parried then struck. Though the surprise was that his opponent was rather quick to respond, the man protected his mid section which was the target Balian tried to go for, with a swing of his blade deflecting the thin rapier. Balian, humorously bowed his head; then made a growl. A dance it shall be Balian thought as he stepped forward slicing at the man, though he was quickly repelled by the abrupt lunge the man made. So to compensate Balian side stepped, taking the only opening the man left he did it a very dirty way. Piercing the mans neck, impaled it right through with a squirt of red mist when he pulled back out. Balian did not enjoy such horrible deaths but he wanted to finish the dance quickly so Midas would not get overworked. The mans lifeless limp body fell to the ground with a thud, dropping his steel sword and twitched for a moment. Balian sighed for a moment with disgust of how he had to end his dance, though he looked up to Midas who was still thrashing about. Balian, slowly walked up, his rapier lowered in his hand. Using the end of his rapier he thumped the man in the head, knocking him cold. Midas, who stood in front of the unconscious body of his opponent had his sword raised above his head as if he was going to deal a deathly blow. But Balian quickly took note that he left himself open to a strike, therefore..secretly he just saved his partners life. "I had em." Midas said with a grunt, letting his sword in his hand drop at his side. "Of course you did." Balian said with a grin. "I did!" Midas yelled, his free hand rubbing his bald head. "Yes, while you think on that. I need you to get this man inside the Brothel, tell Tina that we need a spare empty room. We will see who this man works for with a little Midas Negotiations no?" Balain smiled plainly then nodded, waving his hand to the distraught half naked women who stood with their mouths open as if telling them it is all fine. Midas pulled the unconscious man by the feet into the Brothel. As Midas did so, Balian stood outside. Inspecting the bodies, then pulling his knives from his enemies back and one from the brothel wooden wall. The streets were quite, the screams ceased. Only the haze of death lingered like a cold striking those who are not immune. Death was committed, and granted like a appraisal to the gods it was there. Balian who had walked to the steps of the Brothel turned looking to the dead bodies. He then see's men and woman alike in tattered clothing looting the bodies of the ones he had just killed, Balian sighed while entering the two story structure. " The room has been set up my lord, just upstairs to the left. Last door to the right." A woman said, who was quite attractive but Balian took note she is paid to give pleasure..so nothing special will come of it. He nodded, throwing a small coin purse to the lady who informed him. "Thank you my lord." She bowed her head. Balain looked around the room, every woman and man was silent. The voices, the moaning all of it ceased. The piano did not play the servers did not serve they all just stared with curiosity. This amused Balian, so he let out a laugh. One that made others flinch as he raised his arms as if announcing something of grand measure. "Please, ladies and gentlemen let the party go on!" He yelled as he clicked his boots together, and at that instant the run down brothel began singing again. Conversations were sounded, the piano played and the drinkers drunk. Balian nodded in content as he walked up the old molded wooden stairs, his hand sliding again the wooden hand rail as he walked the spiral stairwell. He finally reached the top, following the womans instructions he went to the last door to the right. Opening it he saw Midas throwing his right hooks at the mans jaw, blood already contaminated the soft wooden floor. The man, strapped to a weak wooden chair spit taunting Midas. "Midas, calm down." Balian said raising a hand. "This grunt is mighty disrespectful. I had to take it upon myself to teach him what his swine of a mother should of." Midas said, his face was red and his nostrils flared. "I understand, now please let me speak to him." Balian said, approaching the bloodied man as he pulled up a chair to sit in front of him. Eye to eye they stared at each other. For moments they just stared. "He wont talk," Balian shook his head and sighed. "Midas, prepare him for a mind probe." Then the man suddenly widened his eyes, he began to shake his head and flailed with frustration. "No, no please don't do this I'll tell you anything please!" Balian shook his head to the screaming mans voice, Midas walked behind the him, grabbing his head placing his thumbs at his temples. He shook violently screaming for mercy. "I'm sorry, but you were instructed to spew lies in this kind of predicament..I will not take the chances." Balian said with a low tone, almost whispering but loud enough so he could hear. He snapped off his gloves, laid them on a desk and approached the man who shook with ferocity. He begged and pleaded not to do this but Balian did not listen. The man squirmed as Balian placed his five fingers on the mans forehead. "You...wont...feel..a...thing." Balain said, though lying to him obviously. A mind probe is a painful experience, when a psyker, a person that posses the skills to enter ones mind delves into ones so called memories. This..experience has the pain of a thousand migraines and only ends with the memories of the one who was probed to be scrambled, forced into a endless realm of dementia. Balian closed his eyes, focusing all his strength on calming his own muscles. Imagining as if he were a weightless air bubble. Sinking into the wooden floors, and into the dirt ground below as if nothingness. His muscles relaxes, his mind became one. Imagining in his mind as two bubbles appeared, one was his and the other was the mans. And Balians nothingness bubble, became one with his..forming their minds into one. At that, the figiting man ceased to move, put into a state of dreaming almost. Balain searched his mind, going through thousands of pictures a second. Midas watched him twitch and turn uncomfortably. It only takes moments to mind probe, but to Balian it's hours inside a mans head. Cycling through decades of memories, skipping and reversing time inside his head. After five minutes Balian awoke, he was startled at first..dizzy almost. He held his head in his hands. "You alright." Midas said as he leaned down placing a hand on Balians shoulder. Balian rose his head, looking to Midas with a stern and ferocious look. "Inform Lyrron..that a war is coming." Balian spoke with a tone that stung even Midas. "House Whitestrake has moved against us, the treaty is broken!" Midas looked out the window of the room they were in a look on his face of sadness. "We cannot win a war with the Crimson Crows, nor the Whitestrake house. We are to small in number." Balian nodded, his mind was if changed for he was sure on one thing. "Then we head chop the head of the snake right off." He said with a grim tone. Midas then looked to him, a moment of silence reached them and then Midas said. "We will be violating the House code of war." "No..we wont attack him directly but we will attack him close to hit..we will hit something he has had heavily guarded. Like his market. Perfect." "We force him to think we have broken the rules, he will attack..then we pull back awaiting him to attack our house then. You are clever Balian." "Thanks, but no time to flatter me round up your men. Get two magi to accompany us, we are going to need a big boom." Midas nodded as he walked out of the room preparing the strike. Balain turned to the man, who was now awoken. "You are a new customer here, welcome." Balain said bowing his head to the man. The man looked about the room, pulled his hands but to no avail. He deducted that he was in some sort of predicament. Which suprised Balian. "Where am I! Where have you taken me! Please I don't understand what I did!." He said in a panicked notion. Balian only nodded and ruffled his brown hair. "It's alright." Balian said, then he left the room. Within his mind he saw so many images, of Artarion. Instructing the man of what to do and how to do it. All that was known to Balian was now in his mind, and Balian was ready..ready for war.

(Picture of Artarion) http://th05.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2011/328/3/f/lord_of_mercenaries_by_justaman78-d4c0dit.jpg

Chapter 1/Legacy The bell struck, its' thundering sound echoed across the city, the voices ceased and the birds scurried into the sky that was still and unmoving. The gathering begun, the stench of death tickling the nostril of every man, woman and child who stood watch. The city, a city that was made of shanty towns within the lower district, the cobblestone roads soaking with tears and human wastes and rotting food. The residential buildings built of cheap wood and rotting sheet metal for a roof, the windows covered with a yellow like paper. Each individual dressed as if the rags for a washcloth was stitched into a manner of what some call a dress, a tunic, leggins, and other assortments of clothing. Each of them grimacing at the sight of the gallows that stand tall stained with blood and the pile of dead bodies. The wind was still, the stench was clear, the very essence around them hung like death was tickling at their very ears with the echoes of silent cries and the murmur of grief. A line formed on the stairway to the gallows, a dozen men chained together awaiting their deaths while the town crier, dressed in formal attire called out their names as he unrolled the parchment he had in his sweaty hands. He looked to a man, who sat on a chair made of plain wood he was dressed as royalty but he was nay of any royal tree. The man nodded, signaling the next batch of men to approach the gallows. The crier nodded and red. "Emillio, Vinnius, Elerious,Draneric, and Leoric." He presented them by waving his left hand to the stair well, armored men clad in steel unlocked the chains that was placed on their ankles and wrists. The man who sat on the chair grinned, as he watched one man try to run from his execution he was only cut down by a wave of a sword; his blood spewing from the neck down to his chest. The rest, slowly walked up the stairwell, it creaked with the moan of old and rotting wood. They each formed a line, ropes dangling above their heads as the executioner one by one tied the thick rope around their necks, adjusting the size to their Adams Apple. The executioner looked back to the sitting man and nodded, he slowly rose to his feet and walked in front of the bound to be dead man and spoke with a loud and booming voice. "This! is the fate for all my enemies, this! is the doomed fate for all those who betray my trust...and I swear to you by the gods I pay in full price when blood is demanded!" He pointed to the men whose necks be bound to the ropes he laughed whole heartily and spoke again. "I have brought down the house of Varro, I have won the battle of Stygian, I have fought the war of the plains and this is what I was challenged with!" The man grinned shaking his head. He bowed his head, the crowd watched intently but with fear, their eyes widened to the surprise of the mans humorous mood. "The gods show mercy on you." He said as he gestured with a flick of his wrist, then the trap door beneath the dead men flung open the sound of necks snapping cracked in the air like lightning. The peasants winced, some gasping and others remaining silent and even perhaps some were amused. "Artarion." Another man said, stepping upon the gallows he looked to Artarion with a scowl. "Your business concludes here, we will take care of the rest of them." Artarion smiled, he bowed his head to the man and said. "Guard Captain Davros, it is all yours." Artarion leaned close dropping a rather large sack of coins into Davro's hand. Artarion leaned in to the captains ear and muttered. "I believe our business is concluded.." Artarion pats the guard captains armored silver shoulder and walks off in a brisk pace down the stair well. His men, or so called muscle followed him into the streets the peasants parting like rats from his path. Each guard of Artarions was clad in Black steel, their armor was bulk and thick over the breastplate they wore a tabard, the insignia of a crow of crimson with its wings spread apart shined upon the black tabard, its edges embroided in gold. Artarion and his personal escorts walked the streets, with each block the buildings status became more of a accepting appearance. The buildings became built with a more cleaner wood, the air began to smell fresh, each window was made of glass, each building billowed smoke from their stone chimneys. Soon, a few blocks past the stone buildings appeared, their tall stature putting a shadow over its' lesser residents. Each corner was filled with thriving open markets, men yelling over crowds of over zealous citizens that were dressed with exceptional fabric. Artarion, at last reached his office, a tall building made of wood and brick, the windows gleamed with is clean and shining reflection of passing citizens. The double doors were guarded by his most trusted warriors, who kept watch at every movement since his office was placed at the very heart of the market place and it was quite at work today and many had to watch their coin purses. Artarion absently checked his coin purse, still intact though he would not think of anyone ever trying to pickpocket him. He entered, opening the double doors as his men followed they each dispersed left and right within the lounge area. There was many men within the interior, it was filled with people sparring within the courtyard, initiates swinging at dummies to the east wing of his courtyard. And within the entrance there was what he called lounge area, where his men would each take a table, sit and drink telling tales of the jobs they had taken. Artarion was a man of business, he was a man of powerful capabilities. He was respected throughout the city, the guards he would payoff would not interfere with any jobs that broke the law which were many. Throughout Artarions life he had fought battles, won wars against those who wished to move into his territory with a decisive blow. He had been doing this for thirty five years, it is the longest a lord of house Whitestrake has ever reigned within the boundaries, and he had expanded to the whole west and east part of the capital city. Artarion, walked into his personal office in the second floor within his house and stood infront of the mirror he sighed as his age slowly crept up on him. His fingers ran through his rugged slicked back grey and white hair, his clean shaven beard was of the same hue of his hair. He was quite the tall man, boasting at 6'2 with the muscle of a young professional assassin and the dexterity of a master in acrobatics. He was strong, and he knew it, he was quick witted smart and quite lucky. He pulled his cloak off, revealing his royal clothing. He wore a steel breastplate under his royal velvet sash. His right pauldron was of steel, it was crafted elegantly and professionaly the engravings for dramatic decoration at she pauldron was meant to look of a ravens wing protruding from his right shoulder. His left arm was not armored but covered with the tunic he wore under his breastplate, it was made of the finest blue silk the edges made of pure gold. Artarion gave a cheeky smile, then sat down on his desk taking off his longsword sheathe from his side and placing beside his chair he leaned back letting out a deep sigh of relief. "Boss" A voice spoke within the room, Artarion nearly jumped but just sat up and said. "You have to stop doing that..." "Why" "Because I said so." The figure grunted as he approached. He was a slender man, his face was covered with a shroud so only his grey eyes were visible. He was of the eastern origin and he had a accent of one as well. "What is it.." Artarion said as he rubbed the wearyness from his eyes. The shrouded man spoke, his voice was gentle and calm. "Lorrin and Theoban went to the designated locations as you asked, they filled the coffers willingly thank the gods, then they hit each tavern, brothel, gambling joint, and local markets..we are up to one-hundred and fifty percent in earnings boss." His voice hinted with excitement. "Mm, yes don't get to excited Ja'bar, expanding means two things." He held up two fingers. "We make friends, or we make enemies." Ja'bar nodded, "What of House Lyrron." Ja'bar asked. "What of it." Artarion replied. "We are..moving into his territory are we not." Artarion hm'ed and nodded, he opened a drawer from his desk, throwing out six leather sacks fat with coin. "Get Linius, Sticks, Marrio and Kiera." Ja'bar nodded, then he asked. "What do you wi-" Artarion quickly interrupted. "I want them to approach Lyrrons controlled area, mainly the gambling joints near the taverns 'blue moon' and 'flames wright' then, I want them burn it.." Artarion grinned shooing Ja'bar but within that moment screams were heard, Artarion became quiet, Ja'bar stared out the window for only a moment. Almost as if time slowed a massive shock wave made the building shake with feriocity, the windows exploded and smoke came from each one. Artarion flew from his desk and into Ja'bar, the massive explosion sending him off his feet and into his associate. Artarions ears rung, voices were muffled as screams of terror were sounding like the noon bell. He rubbed his ears, coming to his feet slowly he stumbled to the window behind his desk..which was now thrown across his office. He peered outside, his vision slightly blurred he saw his Market place in pieces. The bodies of dozens lie dismembered by the explosion, his vision was nearly none from the billowing smoke but he made out dozens of bodies. His hearing returned slowly, his breathing was heavy and he saw figures appear within the smoke. Each of them he knew held a weapon, each of them armored and ready to kill. Lyrron..broke the rules, never to assault the headquarters it was the rules of ancient house warfare..but they broke it. Artarion became enraged at this appalling act, so, he let a roar that everyone throughout the district heard. "Crows!" he screamed in anger. War..war now begun like a storm within the unforgiving ocean of endless change...clear..but unpredictable it began.

Vlad grabbed his rifle, within a full sprint towards the door and where Morgan struck the lamp post. Vlad tried not to laugh but he couldn't hold it, he didnt mind that an explosion went off he just felt like laughing at Morgan. "Oh! Are you alright there!." Gasping some breaths between his words he sighed with comic relief. Continued his running towards the black cloud that rose through the air.

Yes, that is the point but that would be a plot without the focus. I'm not saying my plot would be ideal but at first everyone was willing. In the end I made a plot for people to actually want to come scavenging an armory with weapons and supplies. That was leverage I used to get them to join my quest, no it is not a revenge quest, it is a personal vendetta. And Baldur :P I didn't mean to say Tomoyo is a op person it's understandable you had a valid point of how she was trained and in japan a great place I tell you I loved it with a passion. TheBestIdiot I agree, I have nothing to disagree with you on besides the point of just walking around aimlessly without a subplot or a focus point within the rp is like playing a game when you beat the main quest storyline and all the side-quests. But still I am willing and fully understanding what you want and as I stated before I will gladly make any changes and discard my solution that I threw out to make the rp much more appealing to make everyone satisfied. Now, if we can all be adults about this and come together on a solution that would be great, so far this rambling has stopped the RP completely which in sad truth makes it go into a slow and painful death if we do not agree on something you; guys are great, and I believe we all can come to a agreement very soon. So..lets not dwell too much on ill-situationays :P

Vladimir is just knee deep in debt that barley knows how to use a gun properly, but if need be I can erase him killing himself in the plot of him trying to kill Malcolm.

No, the RP just escalated into something the majority of the people do not enjoy, it's all good flipout nothing to worry about all will be fine I assure you.

Name: Artarion Whitestrake Age: 55 Gender: Male Alignment: Situational Race: Human Deity:(optional) Personality: Artarion is a man of caution, he is quick and careful, he does what he must to survive and succeed. Though when the time calls for it he can be cold and as deadly as the finest steel. He is a man of respect, a man who believes respect is earned not granted. Artarion is also a man of trust, a man who would keep the darkest secret until death greets him. Artarion, during times of peace he is a generous man he is known to give to the poor, taking in those who seem to be fit for whatever job he thinks they are well enough to do. Artarion is simply put a man of all kinds. Weapon: Artarion wields a longsword. The hilt is embroided with gold, beyond it's large and frightening pommel a leather strap hangs from it, dangling a blue diamond that would seem as if it would shine in the night. Upon the blade the words "The Kindness of Death" is engraved upon the side of its killing edges. Dragon(if Applicable, Name,scale color etc) Appearance:His face shows experience, upon his elder like face is a long scar running down from his left cheek, down his lip and to his chin that was made by the grace of a dagger. Slight wrinkles are known to be shown upon his face, his cheekbones are of a rather elegant and simple design. His rugged hair slicked back, shining with grey and white strands. His eyes are grey, small in a sorts but when they look at you the feeling of intimidation wash's over those who stare back at him. He is 6'2 quite tall for a man, his bulk is of the appearance of strength and dexterity. (Picture of Artarion) My link Clothing:Upon his body is plate mail, His left arm is equipped with a reinforced steel pauldron that guards his vulnerable sword arm. His right is not armored, rather it is covered by a regal bluish tunic which is embroiled with gold along the sleeve and collar. Over his armor is a tabard of sorts made of red silk made by the finest tailors, stitched together with wolf fur that runs from his chest to his back. History/background: (Location still not decided) Artarion, he was raised within Teirm his whole life, he battled through poverty, fought for men who had power over others. He was a boy who rose through the ranks, learning how to survive within a world without mercy. As a young lad he served a man Lucius, a small time business man who controlled a few taverns and brothels. Every week he would send Artarion to get his payment and Artarion was what you called muscle. For years he served under Lucius, learning the trade of being a man who owned territory, Lucius soon realized that Artarion had a gift, a gift that would soon be put to task. So, Artarion learned the ways of working territories, fighting for them and killing who ever got in his way. He hired muscle, assassins, wizards , professional thieves and every single little detail you can think of he began exponentially gaining territory, and soon after he saw that he could lead his men he off'ed his boss, only to take his place. Though now, a new threat arises Artarion is faced by another man who challenges his seat of power within the industry of territorial gain and control. The countless Taverns, Brothels, Gambling rooms, Inn's, and even guard barracks were now threatened . Artarion now faces economic failure and a war that could destroy him. (If you happen to have a problem with the setup I wish, I assure you I -will- not be OP'ing him at all I will play him responsibly and realistically)

Flipout you're a great Rp'er but the plotline of the legion some how making it's across the country is utterly impossible, Caesar would not be that...ignorant. We wont go back 60 pages. The plotline of something this..this grand of a scale comparing it to a few people who just want to survive is a thought that pass's through the minds of people who just want that hero scene. Besides I am sure we would enjoy something of a smaller scale and something that makes more sense, Caesar cannot expand across the country in such a small amount of time. And they would not send an army after you. It isn't you that started this shinnangan. The problems are there, the OP people are there. We are trying to be -realistic- now I am not giving the lecture to you heck no your great so far it's just that truthfully I don't think the NCR would give a second thought to you if you disappeared. Though there are some here that somehow obtained amazing abilities of invulnerability and such one cannot be skilled in all sorts of fighting, nor can they be experienced with every weapon, nor can they choose weapon types that are not invented within the early 1900-1950's. Realism that is the aim, not super soldiers that can take on five guys because in a real life situation if you fought five guys with a sword..you can probably be dead and the training to use a sword properly in this type of world is highly unlikely unless you somehow found the bat lair and was trained by batman.

Vlad, puffing on his cig calmly hopped off his spot on the counter, rather bored he saw Morgan walk out of the Mart, so Vlad decided to follow the fellow. Planning on talking of plans and such to him he was only a few feet from him. Vlad, opened his mouth to speak but as he opened the door he saw Morgan, in mid air flipped over as if he were being pulled by his feet. Stunned for a moment Vlads cig had fallen from his lips without him even noticing. He looked up a quick moment only to see him disappear. Vlads eyes widened he backed up to get a better view, though to no avail he yelled ."Morgan!" Silence, he yelled again "You alright up there!"

He looks to Sandor with all seriousness and says. "He is over in the storage room to the east side of the Mart, in that hallway over the the last door to your right." Vlad points to where the hall way is and says. "I can't kill him, but if your up to it I need you to." He looks to Sandro with a sad look, though he shook it off within a second.

Vlad heard Sandro and looked to him from the counter he was sitting on and said. "Sandro! Please come here would ya." He waved him over to his counter.

Vlad had reconsidered leaving abrupty, instead he sat on a counter, cross legged and smoked a cig. Watching the group commune was rather amusing, he grinned to the words of jest and winced to the sound of bones breaking. It..was peaceful, Vlad had made it a moment for himself to celebrate not being dead. Though he still had a wounded shoulder but he had already strapped it with bandages and got the bullet out during the others long conversation. "I'll be here waiting for you all then, i'll guard this place..say who is staying as well?" Vlad asked with a curious tone, he didn't want to be stuck in the Mart all alone but he was a little fare away to hear every word of the conversation. Sitting there he pondered on what to do next, he had gathered enough info from Leo that he could probably plan something but for some reason he couldn't. To plan on something so unpredictable was risky, but plans are never perfect and something always goes wrong in this world. Now that Vlad knows there's a great many merc leaders after his head he decided to wait on telling the others. So, he sat watching the others closely like a Shepard tending to a flock.

Alrighty :P whenever your online im up.

Well, I love medieval RP's set in a fantasy world. Though I regret to say I do not know anything of Alagaesia :( I would love to join but my knowledge on such a thing would be terrible. Anyway I can learn the world and its iconic locations and such please do tell me and if I learn enough I'll make a character sheet. On the meantime ill try researching the place up.

Vlad came back in the Mart, seeing everyone gathered he said. "Well, Sandro I can answer that one. I can't kill 'em..but if you up to the job I need you to do it." He nods to Sandro, turning his head to Versing he perks a brow. "You alright Versing?" He then hears Axelle speak and nods. "That was the orignal plan, the legion wont be moving fast, I was going to stop by the citadel since its on the way."

Vlad looked at Cathy and squinted. "You can tell us when to off him?" Vlad laughed then shook his head, he then looked to Axelle. "Well, thankfully I remember you were here. I am heading out, if want to join me id love the company." He smiled to, then looked to his left, where Versing stood. "I'll be outside." Vlad said in mid-inhale of his cig. Vlad then looked to Sandor, giving him a quick salute he said, "You comin with me old chap?" Vlad then exited the Mart, outside and standing on the sidewalk puffing on his cig. "I'll give em five minutes I suppose." Vlad said while he graciously puffed on his cig.

Vlad lit a cig, taking a long and calm drag then nodded. "I know, that is what pains me. Anyway, I havn't seen Axelle...oh I forgot I showed her where to hide..i'll be right back." Vlad rushed back in the Mart then down the eastern hallway, he say Cathy doing something but went to the door. "I got a better solution." He knocked on the door and yelled. "Hold on Axelle!" Vlad stepped back, then kicked the doorknob as hard as he could, it snapped right off and with that the lock. He saw Axelle and the prisoner then said. "Are you alright?!"

Vlad sighs, he had a long talk with Leo and that talk was private. The knowledge Vlad has obtained was minimal but well received. Vlad shut the door behind him leaving the hall way and out to the main plaza of the Mart, where rubble and large gaping explosive holes were. Bodies of mercs were in a corner and Vlad could smell them already. He walked up to Sandro, placing his hand on his shoulder and mutters. "I need you to kill the guy in the storage room." He pats his shoulder with a smile and with his bag on his back and rifle in arm he went towards the exit. before he did he looked back and said. "If anyone still wants to join me on taking out Malcolm and his boss, i'll be outside for five minutes. After that I'm leaving for good." Vlad in truth did not care for the legion, for he was going to die soon now. He held no grudge for Cathy, for it was her that made them split but he didn't mind.