Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust: Short Change Heroes [IC]

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

ASHES TO ASHES, DUST TO DUST
Theme

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Archive Thread

OOC Thread

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Nobody knows how we once came to live here, and nobody knows how we can leave. According to the chrono-meters, it is the year 8072 Standard Terran Years, whatever that may be. We have lived separated from whatever world is beyond ours for hundreds, if not thousands of years here, on the world we call Uadas. It is, so the sages say, a planet, part of a bigger universe filled with many worlds like ours. For as long as we have been separated from the rest of this universe, they say, our civilization, the technologies, have been deteriorating. "Ashes to ashes," they say, "Dust to dust."

We have no reason to disbelieve them, much what they say appears to be true. Indeed, the vast wilderness out there has ruins aplenty of long-gone cities and manufactories, the collapsed remains of an undoubtedly once mighty civilization. Some mourn the times long gone, the times they did not even live to see, but there is nothing we can do about it. Indeed, Uadas as we know it has always been like we know it - a vast and open wilderness, rugged terrain with scant settlements dotting the landscape.

It is an inherently dangerous world out there, away from the relative safety offered by the few cities there are. For some, it is death. For us, it is our livelihood. Traversing the wastes, earning our keep by killing what dangers we find. Some see it as just that: a job to earn one's living, while others see it as their duty. From the twisted Warlocks of Vannir and the Witches of Illash to the speed-freaks and their death cult, none are safe from us, and nor are we safe from them. It's a brave, pretty damn old world out there. What will you do, and for how long? Is the remainder of your life measured in years? Months, days? Hours? Minutes? There is but one way to find out.

- Markus, Wasteland Wanderer and Mercenary (retired)

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The City of Thanedice, Uadas
Arch-Regent's Palace, Crisis Room

The Arch-Regent looked at the screen, the images shown on it still as the video it had displayed earlier had ended. "They are real," one of Guranath's trustees spoke, a man responsible for intelligence affairs. "The videos have been verified, the town has been secured." The lord of Uadas' largest city leaned back in his chair. "Play it again." They did.

The town Teglah was a quiet, rural town, located roughly 40 miles south of Thanedice, famous for it's lack of anything interesting and worthwhile, and often known as 'that town where everyone is related to each other'. This did not mean it was exempt from the Arch-Regent's rule, however - security cameras where put on several key locations in the town, as well as several overlooking the town. It was cheaper than guards, and would do the job just fine for Teglah. Connection with every single one of them was lost at the same moment.

As such, seven hours ago, contact had been lost with Teglah, roughly around 2AM. It was suspected that the town's residents had risen in some sort of revolution against the Arch-Regent, whom had recently demanded the villagers pay their taxes for once. Come the dawn, a small team had been dispatched to investigate. What they had found was not the Teglah they knew. They had filmed what they saw - the footage of which Guranath was now watching again.

What he saw on the screen in front of him, yet again, was not boring old Teglah. Instead, what he saw was nothing but ruins - the stone foundations and ashes of wood from Teglah's buildings. The damage appeared to be done by fire, but according to the squad that had been present the ruins smelled different. It smelled, so they said, "like piss". Ashes did not smell like piss, something the Arch-Regent was quite sure of, but these somehow did. What was even more unsettling and stranger still was that there were no bodies to be found - no traces of them whatsoever. The situation was a strange one, and one uncomfortably close to Thanedice and as such it was now a concern of Guranath himself. Teglah had already been secured - assuming anyone would even want it, especially now - and more troops had already been sent, a Warlock with them so as to investigate if there was any relation to the mystical energies of the Aether.

The video footage once again stopped, Guranath leaned back in his chair even further. "Are we sure that this wasn't just somehow caused by even further inbreeding?" The room remained quiet for a second. "Quite, my lord." came the reply. The Arch-Regent uttered a frustrated grunt.

"Well, fuck."

---

Meravynn's Apartment

The Nisse sighed, bored beyond relief as she lay on her couch. She had only been back in Thanedice for two weeks and already she was getting bored. The parties just weren't like they used to - that's what had to be it, surely. Her eyes shifted away from the screen in front of her couch, which had been turned off for quite some time now, and to the weapons rack she had hanging right in her living room, much to the woes of some kid with a wealthy father that fashioned himself to be an "interior designer" she had once brought home. She liked it. Meravynn stood up, and walked over to the rack, grabbing her sturdy Designated Marksman Rifle from it. A smile appeared on her face. Only two weeks back and already wanting to go back. There truly had to be something wrong with her. She was rich - at least compared to most of Uadas' poor residents - had one of those pictographer/television things everyone in Thanedice seemed to love and want (she recalled there once being some sort of riot over them) , attended fashionable parties, and could pretty much fulfill her every need, and yet she longed to go to the Wasteland? Fuck, everyone would declare her mad next time she'd tell someone she was going back to the Wasteland - to her face, this time! That alone, perhaps, was a reason good enough to leave Thanedice for the Wastes again. Putting back the gun in the weapon rack, Meravynn nodded. Yeah, she'd go back to the Wasteland, and pretty damn soon as well.

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Arch-Regent's Palace, Crisis Room

"The first report of the Warlock has come in, lord." An attendant walked over to the Arch-Regent, rising from his chair to take the report the attendant offered to him. Taking the dataslate and looking at what it showed, before looking up, concern all over his face.

"Shit."

[Sonitusia]

Southern Entrance to Zufbridge, Uadas
Border Check

"Well look who's back, it's the robo girl," hollered one of the men on station. The other guards smirked, watching as the apparently female being put a sack of heavy objects onto the inspection table, breathing heavily, but not showing a bead of sweat at all. And there wouldn't be, otherwise she wouldn't be called a robot for nothing. Robot, cyborg, Warmind, whatever you wanted to say, she wasn't a normal living being. Her 'skin' covered the metal plating that sheltered her internal machinery. The long legs she had weren't made of muscles and tissues, but of pistons and wiring. The brain she possessed could contain more data than any organic life form can hope to achieve.

Yes, this was Koronian Robotics, L Series, Model 3, or as she likes to call herself, Koro L3. She pulled down the hood that covered her head, and shook the dust out of her silver tinted hair. She surrendered her sniper rifle, which had a rather large caliber, and looked quite heavy for a girl her size. She was also about to put down her M1911, before a guard shook his hands and grunted. "Look, we've known you long enough to know you're not going to go around shooting anyone here, so you can keep your weapons to yourself." She nodded, and took back her rifle, slinging it over her shoulder once more.

"Right, let's see what we've got..." muttered the inspector, opening the bag and revealing its contents, "Scrap metal... Scrap metal... Aaand, more scrap metal..." He continued to shift through the sack. "Oh wait! Guess what, more scrap metal! Alright you're good to go." He handed the sack back to the girl, who fell over slightly due to the weight, but she managed to balance herself once more. "Thank you, sir." They let her pass, and she entered the city of Zufbridge.

Zufbridge was a center of knowledge and engineering, with some of the most 'modern' machines and weaponry being created within. People of different races and mindsets were constantly bustling about, some falling over with a pile of books in their hands, and others drawing schematics on the move. Trade was also constant, with new weapons finding owners every day. Of course, there were also angry new owners complaining about faulty products, but that wasn't as usual.

Koro L3 made her way directly to a store, which was bustling with customers. The owner was a middle aged Draconid with a prideful smile and the pose of a professional smith; arms crossed, and chest puffed high. He was currently selling a human a refurbished battle rifle, when suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder. "One second my friend," he told the man, and he turned around to face the girl. "Ah, Koro, you're back!" he boomed, "I see you've brought another large haul for me!" Koro grinned, and plopped the metal onto a table, grateful that the work was complete. "There you go, Mr. Ignus... So, my payment, yes?"

Ignus nodded, and handed the girl a small USB stick, something rather ancient, but not unfamiliar to Koro. "Those are some really good songs and literature that have been collected by one of my customers," the draconid said, collecting the payment from the earlier human who had purchased the rifle, "I'm sure that you could use some more fine art in your, ah, collection." She nodded in agreement, and pocketed the stick. "Can I have a refill on ammunition as well? I encountered a few outlaws on my way to the collection point." The draconid gestured to the ammo shelves, and Koro helped herself as the smith returned to his customers.

[Ardavia]

Wastelands of Uadas

Alec rolled his shoulders as he sat down with his legs crossed, Judgment in his lap, before removing his gloves and rapidly disassembling the weapon. Spread out on the rolled out tarp before him, the pieces glistened in the sun. With careful and methodical movements he picked up each piece and wiped it off with an oiled rag before setting it aside. Soon done, he put the weapon back together, attached the bipod once more, and wrapped the weapon up in the tarp before setting it aside.

That done, Alec pulled open his pack and extracted a rolled-up blanket before rolling it out on the ground. Sitting down with a creaking of armour and stiff joints, he raised one hand to his face and removed his mask before breathing in deeply of Uadas' air. He wished he'd gotten further today, preferably he'd have reached Zufbridge, but those thrice-damned raiders had forced him to go around and cost him several hours.

After putting the mask aside along with the filter box, he put the same hand down the front of his armour, extracting a pair of slightly rust-stained ID tags that he gazed on for several minutes with a slight upward quirk of his lips. He looked to the sky.

Alec Lewis, whoever you were, I hope I'm living your life well enough for you.

Alec sighed deeply, and then laid down to sleep for a few hours. He'd need the sleep to stay alert while travelling.

[Saleon]

"Halt!" shouted a large man from atop the wall. He hits a button on his end.

The guards on the ground begin to scan their belongings. "is this really necessary? We've got licenses," she fumes.

"yeah, and we still find smugglers ever now and then. All of which had a license." one of the three guards responded. They rummage through her bags for illegal materials. They found an odd relic, some food canisters, and random pieces of scrap. "alright," he ways while chucking the bag at her, "you two can go."

"bout time! jeez! why even get a bounty license in this city," she grumbled. Red Rhino only grunted in resoonse. It was always difficult to understand Rhino, Asha had mostly gotten better at it, but it was only the emotion intended not the 'words,' so it wasn't exact. Asha could somehow make conversation, and, Rhino seemed to respond to each of her answers without seeming confused. "well they could have at least said my name. they had our data on their, and the license has it in big bold letters," she rebutted.

They made their way to the Bank, in the center of the city, and to one of the tellers. "we killed the cultist. Atticus Drowl," she said while handing the teller the strange relic, "as proof... this is his 'phoenix medallion,' he never leaves without it. The other cultists followed him cut of this." the artifact had traces of blood. The teller hands her a sum of money equivalent to the pay and thanks her for her services.

"and now, I say a drink is in order," Ash remarked. Rhino grunted at her while making some bodily motion in the opposite direction. "fine," she responded playfully, "we'll get your parts first, then I want a drink."

[Fascist Russian Empire]

Oasis of Arroyo

The birds chirped and the flowers bloomed in Arroyo, a paradise, an oasis in the midst of a great wasteland, full of unimaginable beauty. As per the usual, the Draconid tribe inhabiting the oasis was busy and hard at work growing crops, training soldiers, giving offerings to the Gods, and generally going about their daily lives. Once upon a time, the tribesmen of Arroyo had been content to just sit back and stay hidden in their paradise, but that had changed a long time ago, and the Arroyan people were now extraordinarily militant, attacking anyone who settled near their territory and often times killing outsiders just for wandering near their marsh. Trade and open relations with the outside were out of the question, Arroyo was a completely self sustaining paradise and they didn't need nor want anything the outside had the offer; as far as the Arroyans were concerned, all outsiders would do is destroy what they've worked so hard to protect for more than a thousand years, and violate the sanctity of their holy oasis.

The Arroyans fervently believed that Arroyo was on holy grounds, a sanctuary that the Gods themselves had led the tribe to. As such, it should come as no surprise that the tribe would do everything in their power to keep out foreigners, especially when you think about the naturally xenophobic nature of the Draconid race. The Nisse, especially, were vehemently hated by the tribesmen, and the Arroyans worked especially hard to kill any Nisse that came near their land. Some of the only people who weren't killed on sight were other Draconids, who were given a warning to leave and never return. The Arroyans considered themselves to be servants of the Gods, carrying out their will, protecting their holy ground, and the tribesmen were some of the most religious people on the planet. The tribe was led by their great Emperor, descendant of the great chieftain who had discovered a message from the Gods while exploring the great cavern network beneath their oasis (and who was then believed to be a messenger of the Gods, a divine vessel, and who was revered and put on a great throne along with his children). The Emperor was the fabric that kept the tribe together, the divine and glorious leader of the tribe, leading the Arroyans spiritually, on the battlefield, and in matters of administration; without a doubt, the most important figure in their society.

Then, there was Shijō, the finest warrior the tribe had to offer, their undisputed champion. He was the greatest fighter Arroyo had to offer, having killed dozens of Nisse and remaining undefeated in the arena. Shijō was believed by many to be a holy warrior, chosen by the Gods themselves to fight their battles for them, with the Emperor himself supporting this claim; as such, Shijō was a deeply respected figure in the tribe. At present moment, Shijō was in the tribe's large wooden dojo, helping train some of the younger warriors of the tribe. The Arroyans were taught almost from birth to be fighters, as they believed that was the will of the Gods, and their entire society revolved around combat. The Arroyan champion spent most of his morning teaching his tribesmen in the way of the sword, only to be interrupted by one of his kin. Coming through the door and approaching the tribe's champion, one of the Emperor's personal guards came to Shijō and spoke to him.

"Great champion, the Emperor has requested your presence." The guard spoke, simply. Without a word, Shijō nodded, and followed him to the palace of the Emperor. The palace was, perhaps, the most magnificent part of Arroyo; it was a grand wooden structure, with vast and elegant gardens, full of finely crafted furniture, and containing the tribe's most extravagant and highly decorated shrine to the Gods. It was an impressive structure, a glorious palace for the glorious Emperor. Without delay, Shijō went through the gate, and into the palace, where he was brought before the Emperor himself. While many tribesmen saw the Emperor on a regular basis, being personally invited for a private audience with the Emperor was a rare occasion, and a great honor to say the least. Not keeping him waiting, Shijō went to the throne room of the palace, and knelt before His Majesty the Emperor. The Emperor was a very tall Draconid, much like Shijō, wearing the finest robes the tribe's craftsmen could make, with two finely crafted swords sheathed at his waist, looking every bit as grand as the tribe's faith would make him out to be. The Emperor signaled for his guards to leave and, once they had some privacy, spoke to his tribe's champion.

"Ah, Shijō, Chosen One, you have arrived. I have something very important to tell you, Chosen One. Last night, I received a vision, a message from the Gods; a very urgent message. You, Chosen One, are to go into the caverns, deep into the caverns, and at the very bottom you will find a golden door. Through this door lies the Temple of Trials; pass through the temple, completing each trial, and at the very end of the temple the Gods themselves will come to you and tell you what you need to do. I know not what the Gods want, but they would not have granted me this vision if it wasn't important. Now go, Chosen One, and fulfill the will of the Gods." The Emperor spoke in a deep tone, reciting the contents of a vision he had received.

"It will be done." Shijō said in his own deep voice, getting up and leaving the palace without another word. Going back to his own house in the village, Shijō put on his metal armor, put his finest two swords around his waist, and entered the great cavern system beneath the oasis. The caverns of Arroyo were vast, and the Arroyans used it as an endless source of stone to build new structures and fortifications with. It took Shijō a great many hours to finally reach the bottom, and, after the long trek to the end of the caverns (being the first of his tribe to reach the bottom) he found exactly what the Emperor had foreseen. In front of him was an elegant, ornate door of solid gold, encrusted with many different gems, engraved with strange inscriptions. There was no doubt that this was the entrance to the Temple of Trials that the Emperor had told him about. Without delay, Shijō pushed open the door, and found himself looking down a long and wide open hallway.

At the end of the hallway Shijō found another door, this one made of stone. Opening it, he found himself in a vast, open room, torches lighting it, bones littering the place, and, standing in the center of the room was a great lion, standing guard for intruders. Looking up at the ceiling, Shijō saw, in Draconid script, the words Trial of Arms, making it clear that he was to fight the lion guard. As he drew his blade, the lion was alerted to his presence, and began charging at the Draconid. Getting into a fighting stance, and bracing himself, Shijō quickly got himself ready. As the beast leaped at him, ready to pounce, Shijō took his sword and pointed it upwards, the lion falling onto the blade and being impaled by it, the beast roaring out in pain. Giving it no time to recover, Shijō pulled the blade out of the beast's chest, and gave a hard swing towards the lion's head, the beast being decapitated in a single blow. He had done it; the first trial was over, without much difficulty.

Moving on, Shijō found another door at the other side of the room and, going through it, was brought into a second room. This room had engravings on every corner of the walls; murals, depicting a great battle between Draconids and Nisse. On the ceiling was, again, in Draconid script, the words Trial of Perception. On the floor were the words One of these are not who they seem to be; find the impostor, and you will see. Shijō spent the next few minutes carefully examining the murals, looking for anything out of place, before he finally found something out of place; what appeared at first to be a Draconid, in the middle of a line of soldiers. A closer inspection, however, revealed that the soldier had long and pointy ears, and when Shijō touched the mural, the soldier's Draconid face fell off, the stone hitting the floor with a clank, to reveal the face of a Nisse soldier. After discovering the secret, Shijō heard the sound of a hidden door opening, allowing him to pass in to the third room.

In the third room there was nothing but torches and a stone statue at the end of the room depicting what appeared to be a Draconid chieftain. On the ceiling were the words Trial of Strength, and, after a moment of contemplating, Shijō approached the statue and put his arms around it. Pulling with all his might, Shijō heard the sounds of cracking, and after a while of strenuous pulling, the statue broke, the Draconid dropping the heavy stone on the ground, panting from the exertion. Where the statue used to stand, there was a long, wide hidden hallway, now revealed, and after a little while of resting, Shijō went through the hallway. After a little walking down the incredibly long hallway, Shijō noticed more Draconid writing, this one reading Trial of Agility. After a brief moment of wondering what he was supposed to do, Shijō got his answer when a hidden trap was trigged and, coming out of hidden vents, toxic gas began rapidly pouring into the hall.

Sprinting down the stone hall, Shijō managed to outrun the gas and, coming to yet another door, rushed into the final room of the Temple of Trials. In this room there was no guard to fight, no puzzle to solve, and no feats of strength and agility to perform. Rather, there was an ornate table of solid gold, upon which was a small vial containing a faintly glowing purple liquid. Taking the vial and drinking the contents, Shijō found himself passing out, slipping into a state of unconsciousness, his unconscious body falling onto the stone floor beneath him. Entering the dream world, Shijō found himself back home, in his village, only things were just a little bit different. The entire oasis was on fire, with dead bodies littering the village, a small handful of Draconid survivors fighting off a swarm of Nisse invaders. After a few moments of seeing death and destruction brought to his home, his vision faded and was replaced with a new vision. This time, he again saw his village, only this time there was a great darkness, the burning buildings and dead bodies being replaced with a long abandoned village, the flowers and trees of the oasis all dead, the once green grass now a sickly grey, the once clear blue springs of the oasis now a murky brown. Then, Shijō heard a deep, echoing, enchanting voice speaking to him from above.

"Chosen One," the voice spoke, "a great threat to Arroyo has emerged. Demons, driven by bloodlust and greed, will soon set their sights upon our holy ground. You have already seen what will happen if they aren't stopped. It is up to you, Chosen One, to stop this threat; the fate of your home and your tribe rests in your hands. Travel to the east, Chosen One, where you will find a great army of demons. Defeat them, Chosen One, at all costs, for the fate of this sanctuary is dependent on your actions. To help you in your quest, you will find several gifts from me in the temple once you awaken; may they serve you well, Chosen One. Now, go; stop the demons, save Arroyo."

Once he woke up, the room Shijō was in looked a bit different. A panel on the wall had opened up, revealing a hole in the wall, inside of which was a faintly glowing blue katana along with a sheath heavily decorated with Draconid imagery, made of some strange material. Shijō picked the sword up, upon which the glowing stopped, and sheathed it around his waist. Also inside the hole was an ornate ruby necklace in the shape of a great dragon, which the Chosen One put around his neck, along with a large purse full of gold coins. It was obviously a message from the Gods, and Shijō fully intended to embark upon his holy quest to save Arroyo immediately. He didn't know why the Gods had chosen him of all people to embark on a dangerous quest to save his tribe, but he was certainly going to do everything in his power to complete his quest. Beginning the long trek back up to the surface, he once again stopped in the Emperor's palace to inform him of what had transpired.

"Chosen One, you have returned, and I see have brought back some treasures with you. What have the Gods said to you, Chosen One?" The Emperor said to Shijō, carefully studying the Draconid.

"They have informed me that there is a great threat looming, that Arroyo is in grave danger. They have told me to travel east, to stop a great host of demons and save Arroyo from imminent destruction." Shijō told the Emperor.

"Then you must go at once, Chosen One, and embark on your quest. Take whatever you need from the storehouse, and go, carry out the will of the Gods and protect our home. You will be in our prayers, Chosen One." The Emperor said to Shijō. With a final bow, Shijō left the Emperor's court and went to the tribe's storehouse, where he took a weeks worth of food and water and began preparing to journey east. It would be a long and difficult journey, no doubt, but Shijō, the Chosen One, was determined to complete his quest, protect his home, and carry out the Gods' will.

[Ameriganastan]

The Drunken Dragon Tavern, Thanedice

"Come on, you wee weaklings! You fight like a bunch of one-legged nursemaids! You aren't even worth getting a smack from Delilah!"

Inside the run down tavern in the less reputable parts of Thanedice, an obviously intoxicated Unbroken tossed a man out the window, turning and punching another one in the nuts.

"I've had fights with children that were tougher than this!"

One of the other men kicked him in the nuts as well. He actually laughed.

"Nice try! My knackers are tough as iron!"

He grabbed the guy by the ankle, throwing him into the wall. Leaving another to smack him with a chair.

"Oh, it's like that is it!?"

Contrary to his previous statement, he drew his warhammer.

"Now you get to meet Delilah!"

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

The City of Thanedice, Uadas
Arch-Regent's Palace, Crisis Room

"Then it is decided." Guranath spoke. "Rather than wasting our own man on something like this we shall offer a suitable reward to those that solve this... mystery. Let the scum that traverses the Wasteland concern themselves with this. Put a bounty up throughout the city." The arguably most powerful man on Uadas stood up from his seat. "Now then, with that handled, it is back to more important business. Iored, I want those new taxes to..."

Throughout Thanedice and the surrounding areas

As per the Arch-Regent's orders, bounties were to be put up following the 'Teglah Incident'. Small groups of guards in the employment of Guranath went through the city, putting up bounty posters on boards and in cafes (naturally, without asking any permission from the owners). As was to be expected, the posters were large - something Thanedice's officials always made sure of. The bigger the better, after all - or at least the most attention-grabbing, which could very well be seen as being better when concerning bounty posters. The posters read a plain and simple message for all to read.

BY ORDER OF THE ARCH-REGENT OF THANEDICE

Any and all willing so-called "Adventurers", "Wasteland Wanderers", bounty hunters, and mercenaries are hereby to report to Troops located at the residence of Teglah.

Those that take this job will be involved in a long-term investigation and are expected to report to the Arch-Regent and his officials with anything worthwhile they discover.

The mission, which shall be explained in-detail at Teglah to those interested, is considered of utmost importance and as such the payment shall be high. The reward shall be given after completion of the mission.

Meravynn

Meravynn walked through the streets of Thanedice, her scarlet hair pinned with two small bones she had found, no idea to who or what they belonged. The streets were busy as ever, people going to or coming from their jobs, buying things at stores and market stalls, drunkards spilling from cafeteria. She was not on the streets to go to her job - she didn't even have one! - or to buy food, nor to get wasted. Nay, Meravynn had decided only half an hour ago that she was going to get out of Thanedice for a while yet again, and as such she was looking for a nice, preferably big but not too hard, contract. As such, the Nisse made her way to the closest bounty board, a large, glowing pillar with posters attached to it. She looked across the many different posters hanging from it, her eyes falling on the largest poster she could see. BY ORDER OF THE ARCH-REGENT OF THANEDICE, it said. Payment, it continued, high. Most interesting indeed. Teglah. Less interesting.

Meravynn shook her head to herself. To boring, old, inbred Teglah it was, then. A contract offered by the highest authorities with a suitably high payment wasn't something to neglect - although she was sure many others would do just that, seeing as it seemed to be more of an investigation than some sort of brute-force assault on some group of bandits. All the better, she decided. The less there were to work on the investigation, the higher the turnout would be for her. Satisfied, Meravynn started her walk home, to get her things and to prepare to leave Thanedice one more, glory, riches, and adventure awaiting her.

[Sanabel]

Wastelands of Uadas

Xander had been walking since birth. From the time he could, he had walked with his large tribe, his family. Walked for better grazing, walked for water. Walking was their way of life, their primary mode of transportation. After that, walking hadnt been as enjoyable. Walking, carrying supplies, as a slave was terrible. Cain had changed that. Walking became good again.

On and on, one foot in front of the other. He had walked forever, and would continue walking forever. The earth crackles beneath his animal skin reinforced boots. There's truly nothing. The sound of wind across the plain, over the sound of his boots. The feeling of his long broken in pack on his back, crossbow in hand. Comfortable animal furs over his body, hunted rats tied together, around his neck. The monotony continues, just as the need to walk. On and on. But he was alone, where he liked to be. No one could replace Cain, and so alone he would stay. Cursed to wander the wasteland until he dies. Until now.

Scanning the horizon with the magnification setting on his visor, he doesn't see much. Until something small and shiny catches his eye. Cautiously, he loads and explosive round into his crossbow. It looks like a normal bolt, with a handful of modified shotgun shells to explode upon contact. It could take off a limb, or blow a hole in a chest. Even through armor. Approaching the shiny, he creeps across the landscape, bloodstained pistol in his balancing hand, beneath the bow. It was a system he had used successfully time and time again. Itd saved his life, and that of others.

Getting closer and closer, he sees the shiny was a little metal, rusted thing on a necklace. The necklace of some kind of humanoid(Alec), he couldn't tell. Raising the crossbow, he yells at the seemingly asleep warrior, "H-H-HEY! W-W-WAKE UP!" Those were the first words he'd uttered in weeks. They roll off unnaturally, and stuttered. Noticing the covered rifle, he stands between the man and it.

[Ardavia]

Alec jumped in surprise at the sudden voice, and reflexively grabbed for Judgment before realizing that the weapon was out of reach. Fuck. Going into a crouch, he eyed the speaker warily. A humanoid, wearing ragged clothes and crudely-made gear, aiming a pistol and a crossbow at him.

Unarmed and at gunpoint, he decided the best course of action was to surrender, and slowly raised his arms upwards. "What do you want?", he questioned, cursing his luck. The man (if that was what it was, though it sounded somewhat like a male) looked like he might well be a raider (in which case he was unlikely to make it out alive at all), and he didn't like the look of those stains on the pistol, much less the crossbow pointed at him.

[The Krogan]

Uadas Waste's- In-route to Thanedice

Imperator Loken had been traveling on foot for several days now through the wilderness and occasional road to reach the "great" city of Thanedice in search of work, and still had a while yet left to go. He had had little luck in finding any work in the wastes that called for his set of skills, and those who did offer him contacts either couldn't pay him enough or didn't understand that he wasn't some damned servant bot that would water their plants. Hell he was once one of the most advanced A.I.'s, or Warmind's, of his age; himself and his brother/ sisters had been demigods of war. When an Imperator Legion marched the very earth itself shook in awe and the enemy would be ground beneath their metallic tread. Now though..... he was most likely the last of his kind, a relic from a bygone age long forgotten by the current denizen's of the world.

The whistling of the wind over the rolling landscape and the skittering of small animals were all that could be heard in this desolate landscape, with Loken's heavy metallic tread interrupting the otherwise natural harmony of the wilderness. It had been a while since he had last scanned his surrounding for any danger or useful items, and since it was better to be safe then take an anti-armor round, the ancient Warmind stopped and began to take a thorough full spectrum scan of his surroundings. If he was lucky he might find some scrap metals to trade in.

Initiating scan..... Scanning.... Scanning.... Scann... ALERT, one organic... ALERT, two organics, first organic stationary, second organic mobile.... Compiling further data...

Loken immediately set off in the organics direction to investigate, rarely did they travel in such small numbers through the wastes, and by the data the scans were sending him the mobile was approaching the stationary in manner that indicated stealth. The two were just on the other side of a nearby ridge, and Loken's long and tireless strides were eating up the distance in no time, and was soon atop the crest of the hill. He immediately saw that one of the organics was pointing a crossbow at the stationary and heard him say

"H-H-HEY! W-W-WAKE UP!"

Scanning.. Male human, male mixed species... both armed..., the data only took heartbeats to collect and Loken came up with a plan.

I do not know all the information of this encounter, immediate termination of armed unknowns unwise... Investigate and intercede, if organic reaction is hostile they will be immediately terminated

Loken pulled the Mattock Pattern Assault rifle, in case, from his back and increased the volume of his voice capacitors before approaching the pair and saying,

"Unknown organic! state your name and reason for hostile action against the stationary."

[Sanabel]

Xander keeps the bow and pistol trained on Alec, but turns his head to face this new comer. "Ummm...my uh n-n-name is Xander Cain. A-and uh, I-I am threatening him, b-before he has the ch-chance to threaten me." With that, he relaxes his pistol hand, ready to swing it up and shoot the warmind seeming type. Could he have just walked into a trap? No, he would've seen it coming. This was a typical standoff. But why did he approach this sleeping humanoid? Maybe his subconscious wants a companion, some kind of interaction. Itd been seasons since his last.

[The Krogan]

Xander keeps the bow and pistol trained on Alec, but turns his head to face this new comer. "Ummm...my uh n-n-name is Xander Cain. A-and uh, I-I am threatening him, b-before he has the ch-chance to threaten me." With that, he relaxes his pistol hand, ready to swing it up and shoot the warmind seeming type. Could he have just walked into a trap? No, he would've seen it coming. This was a typical standoff. But why did he approach this sleeping humanoid? Maybe his subconscious wants a companion, some kind of interaction. Itd been seasons since his last.

Loken quickly did a search within his bounty data banks for this Xander Cain, and upon finding no bounty on him, moved on to analyzing the organics reasoning.

Preemptive strike tactics... Common in the wastes, logical if Xander has something to hide or is paranoid... Can't be part of the bandit tribes, he has no markings or identification... Lone wanderer then or an explorer, but something is wrong.... Hostile action taken by Xander Cain makes no sense, waking the victim instead of just killing them is counter productive to the objective, the chances for the potential victim turning the tables has gone from 0% to 20-25%... Further investigation is needed and I will not permit homicide without a reason.

The whole thought process took mere seconds, with Loken responding to Xander,

"Your preemptive strike tactics, Mr. Cain, are unsound in this situation, not only have you alerted your target to your presence, you have put your life in danger that could have been avoided by simply killing him in his sleep, if you merely wanted to threaten the male organic, you would have been better off just avoiding him, as you have now created a potential enemy that must be dealt with... either diplomatically of violently, and I will not permit you to commit homicide without a definite and logical reason". Loken said in a deep synthetic voice.

Turning towards the male still on the ground he asked, "And you, what is your name."

[Sanabel]

"D-don't answer him." Xander says sternly. His voice was coming back. How pleasant. "Not until this warmind says who he is." Staring at Loken for a moment, Xander looks for armor chinks. "I never said I was going to kill 'em. Truth's, I dont know exactly why I woke this guy up." He truly didn't. On a normal day, he would've left him there. "Maybe give 'em some company, exchange food and stories. Good will comes rarely on the waste."

[Ardavia]

With a careful glance at the Warmind, and having lowered his hands to his sides, Alec stayed quiet at the urging of the savage still holding him at gunpoint. Keeping one eye on the crossbow still pointed at his face, his hand reached for his back and he carefully put his hand around a leather-wrapped handle and slowly withdrew the blade as quietly as he could while the man... Xander was distracted. Centimeter by centimeter, the dull black blade came out of its sheath, revealing the perfectly sharp edge of the survival knife.

Alec had never liked close-range combat, let alone actual hand-to-hand, but needs must when needs must and all that. And, he noted, it's looking more and more like I won't have to use it. Good, getting blood out of my gear is a fucking pain.

[Sanabel]

Keeping his bow trained on Alec, watching the warmind, Xander backs up slowly. His first interaction hadnt gone so well. He wants to get far enough away to run, so he keeps moving. Hopefully once he escaped he wouldn't have to see them again. Still heading back, he says, "S-so where are you headed?"

[The Krogan]

"D-don't answer him." Xander says sternly. His voice was coming back. How pleasant. "Not until this warmind says who he is." Staring at Loken for a moment, Xander looks for armor chinks. "I never said I was going to kill 'em. Truth's, I dont know exactly why I woke this guy up." He truly didn't. On a normal day, he would've left him there. "Maybe give 'em some company, exchange food and stories. Good will comes rarely on the waste."

..... mentally unstable then... obviously logic and reason is not on this organic's minds Loken thought before answering Xander.

"I am Imperator Loken, Banner Carrier of the.... errr never mind... I am called Loken organic, and if you had merely wanted some company you could have just awoke the sitting organic without threatening him... So I suggest you lower your weapons so we can all, uhmm, breath easier."

The whole time Loken had been talking, Xander had slowly been backing away and then said.

"S-so where are you headed?"

Not skipping a beat Loken answered, "Eventually Thanedice"

[Sanabel]

"Never heard of it," Xander answers. He needs to keep the warmind busy. He had heard vague rumors of the city, but not much. One day, he wants to head there. But not right now. The sun is bright, and his visor adjusts. The wind still blows, and the rats still lay around his neck. But it would be night sooner than people think. He needs a camp.

[The Krogan]

"Never heard of it," Xander answers. He needs to keep the warmind busy. He had heard vague rumors of the city, but not much. One day, he wants to head there. But not right now. The sun is bright, and his visor adjusts. The wind still blows, and the rats still lay around his neck. But it would be night sooner than people think. He needs a camp.

Loken merely shrugged at Xander's lack of knowledge about the city and said,

"So whats it going to be Mr.Cain, are you going to lower those weapons or what?"

[Ardavia]

Alec sheathed the knife once more, this time with an audible creak as it slid into the sheath, and then slowly rose to his feet while keeping an eye on the slowly retreating Xander. "I'm heading for Zurbridge, myself." He said curtly, moving to retrieve his mask and sliding it onto his face. Once the breathing apparatus was secure around his face, he took a deep breath and then spoke again, his voice now slightly raspy.

"Okay, can we all stop with the weapon pointing, maybe try and be civil to each other? I'd really rather not have a shootout here, and night's coming. Camping together would be safer than doing so alone."

[Sonitusia]

Zurbridge, Uadas
Koro_L3's Residence (A Warehouse)

Not really having what a normal person would name a house, all that Koro really needed for a comfortable place to rest was the ability to lay down somewhere. Even on the hard wooden floor of the building she called home for quite a long time. She flipped a switch, and a series of old light bulbs awakened to shine the inside of the warehouse. She began unpacking her gear for the time being, as she wasn't needed for another metal haul for the next couple days, so she would be busy helping out Mr. Ignus in his smithy.

She leaned her sniper rifle on the table in front of her, and muttered, "Okay, let's study the data..." Koro put the USB drive onto the small desk, which also had the equipment to connect digital data directly to her hard drive. She sat down into a chair, and plugged the device into her equipment, afterwards putting on a hat connected with cables. Instantly, she could feel the information flow into her brain; books she's never read before, and the soft and hard melodies of music she's never heard before. She enjoyed the rest of the night indulging herself with the new knowledge in arts she possessed now.

[Sanabel]

He's right, it would be safer camping together. Slowly, Xander bends down, dropping the pistol next to the bow on the cracked earth. "We should camp together," he says. "Safer. Surely. First, we should find better camping grounds."

[The Krogan]

Loken stood there kind of awkwardly when Xander said they should camp together, as he neither needed sleep nor rest he usually never made "camp". Loken always kept on the move whether it be night or day, never stopping to rest or "catch his breath". It had always seemed like a waste of time to just stop and sit around waiting for daylight when he could see just as well in the dark as he could at night.

"Well organic's.. if your done with trying to kill each other I will be on my way.."

[Ardavia]

Loken stood there kind of awkwardly when Xander said they should camp together, as he neither needed sleep nor rest he usually never made "camp". Loken always kept on the move whether it be night or day, never stopping to rest or "catch his breath". It had always seemed like a waste of time to just stop and sit around waiting for daylight when he could see just as well in the dark as he could at night.

"Well organic's.. if your done with trying to kill each other I will be on my way.."

Alec just nodded in response to the Warmind, and jerked his head to the side. "Go ahead. Thanedice should be roughly that way, but I'm sure you already knew that. Either way, we should get to a better spot to set camp, yeah. Any ideas, Xander?"

Not waiting for a response, Alec turned to the wrapped-up Judgment, removing the tarp from the weapon and rolling it up before putting it in his rucksack. Hefting the familiar weight of the machinegun in his arms, he turned to the other two again, slightly expectant.

[Ameriganastan]

"Aye, that was a solid punch, lad! You almost left a bruise! Barkeep, another round on me!"

The inside of The Drunken Dragon was in shambles. After completely destroying the place, the Unbroken and his opponents had gone back to being friendly drunks instead of fighting ones.

"And remember, Bhaltair Rocksmiter is the name! If you ever need a skull cracked or a crack in your armor mended, I'm your man."

Stumbling off his stool, he wandered over to piss in the corner. Until a poster caught his eye.

"Oi! Who here is sober enough to read!? Nobody!? Fine! I'll do it. Can't be that hard."

Tearing it off the wall, he squinted like a blind old man.

"...B...bunty...banty...bounty! Bounty...haunters? No, hunters! Someone wants a bounty hunter. Art Reginald...no, no. A-r-c-h...arch! Arch Regent! Pavement shall be hi...why is the pavement saying hi...wait, that says payment...payment shall be high!"

He tossed the poster aside, stumbling outside to his parked caravan.

"I'm going to...to..."

He walked back inside and picked the poster up.

"Teglah!"

[Sanabel]

Xander bends down, picking up his weapons. "Nice machine gun. I say we head to a hill or something, to get higher up." He scans the horizon. It would be night soon. Having company would be nice. Someone to walk with. Something to do.