BigPapaBelial

Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont

Tyler Ermineskin - Hat Trick

On Ice

In the Office Arena

"Puck’s Down…Let’s bleed!"

Age: 36

Appearance: 6’6” (198 cm) Big enough to block a doorway. Tall enough to be seen over chaos. 285 lbs (129 kg) Dense. Not bulk for show—this is working mass. Hits land heavy, hard and with weight. Elite-power athlete build, barrel chested, thick neck and broad shouldered, big thick tree trunk like legs built for power off the push, and stability when he plants himself. And a Core with rippling six pack abs, the man looks like a tank, but moves like a freight train that learned footwork.

Role at SDN: Hero Representative (Canadian Transfer) and SDN Public Relations Representative

Background:

Tyler Ermineskin grew up just west of Edmonton, in the bosom of the plains and rocks of the Enoch Cree Nation, right on the western limits of the city. For being one of the richest Reserves in the province (Well done River Cree Well done), it’s also a community of good people, raised right and raised fair. It’s also close to the heart of the rivalry between two great hockey teams, the infamous Battle of Alberta. In the North Corner the Edmonton Oilers, in the South Corner the Calgary Flames. And Hockey has been part of Tyler’s upbringing from the start. He at one pointed wanted to go pro. He trained in the summer in between working on the farm. And skated hard during the cold winters of Northern Alberta. Hockey is in his heart, part of his soul. Just as the Pow Wow and the Sweat Lodge are part of the Cree identity, Hockey is part of that ceremony for Tyler, cold, frozen and power.

Tyler was big early. It was pudge early. But as time went on, as he grew, it went from plump to solid muscle though when he started to put in the work. His skating built his legs and core, weight lifting and other various exercises made him strong and fit as he grew up. As a kid he could outrun and out hit any kid his own age and older on the ice. If he were born earlier and was older when he began to play, in a earlier time, he’d have been picked up as an Enforcer, a Goon. But that’s not what he wanted. He wanted to play. He wanted to play well and he wanted to make people smile and enjoy it while doing it. So he learned how to fight too. When the whistle blew, the puck hit the ice he’d play right, he’d play good, and when the gloves came off he’d hit good and hard. Defense! Defense!

His playing took a second seat though in his early teens, his family moved to Cali, chasing work, chasing change. Sadly there no frozen ponds, no backyard shinny, no frozen boots and clouds of cold breath.

Just hot asphalt and desert and mountains and the ocean side.

So Tyler adapted.

He got a good education.

Business. Public Relations. Human Relations.

He became a People Person.

But he never gave up on his dream. But now he played on the rink of the Corporation. By the time he was in his 20s, he was a boardroom enforcer, he played for the people, made room for making things enjoyable for people he worked with, made things fun for people he worked for.

And in a land of heat and black concrete, he rediscovered his sport again. He found hockey enthusiasts. He began to skate again. Started working for SDN, brought his love for the sport and his powerhouse approach to Public Relations to the company.

Time passed and he worked hard and well. Became one of SDNs go to people to help their image. Socials, Public Events, Meet and Greets. He helped and facilitated. And in it all also squeezed his love of the game of Hockey in.

One time, heading back home, with a cadre of Heroes, they held a shinny charity game back in Enoch. To show the Rez Kids that even in times of poor and loss, people can rise up.

This is about when it all came and flipped.

A chance situation, one in a quadrillion. As they played some strange cryo tech being used in the arena to keep the ice perfect went on the fritz. And an until now unknown ancient Native American energy source buried under the reserve linked to some ceremony ages ago, mixed, broke then unleashed. The building cracked, the ice shattered. People scattered. Girds shattered in the cold. In hockey pads Tyler hammered up and pulled people from the wreckage. The ancient spirits of this old ceremony rose up, tired and a little pissed at being sealed. Sought out something.

And rather then their captor, found someone trying to safe people. Whatever intelligence was there, flipped. And merged with the powerhouse holding up an subzero freezing girder.

When the heroes he came with and local SDN rescuers came to help, they found him standing in a dome of deep blue almost glacial ice.

No one there knew what to make of it. He’d help up cold steel, helped trapped victims, and stood against the cold face to face. And the cold rather then killing him, worked to empower him.

In the face of potential pain, he’d shown, Courage, Power, and Caring.

The people he saved didn’t see just a simple rescue.

They saw a Hat Trick.

His group of heroes and SDN fellow employees went back to Cali, with a story. He stayed behind to learn how to use his new powers. It took almost a year, before he returned to California, with a registration to use his powers, and the Hero name of “Hat Trick”.

The name stuck, his love of the game grew. But he still played in the arena of the board room and the social stadium.

Appearance: Jet black hair, long, worn back or braided; often tied with traditional feather adornment when unarmored. Ice-green with steel flecks eyes Cold stare, but alive—never dead, never empty. Medium brown, weathered skin tone, an outdoorsy sort, fits he likes his shinny, and no one from Enoch will miss out on a chance to strip off their shirt in summer and play some field hockey. Prominent facial scarring across cheek and brow, Old knuckle damage, Shoulder and forearm scar tissue Every one earned. None regretted.

In his armor he appears Broad-shouldered, low center of gravity, Heavy reinforced boots with ice-channeling tech, Blue and orange armor reads “hero” at a distance and “problem” up close, Ice manifests first at his feet, then creeps outward—visual warning system, and when it surrounds his feet, fists and legs like a second layer of armor, then you’re really boned.

Out of armor he prefers, “Power Suits” and outfits that say, “Look-At-Me”. His suits are often strong blazers or suit jackets with crisp dress shirts and good fashionable dress pants, with good strong leather boots and shoes, that could be easily at home in a broad room or kicking in a door in a pinch. Casually he likes his short sleeved shirts, in neutral and dark colors, jogging pants and jeans, with good serviceable sneakers and boots.

Powers:

Cryokinetic Mastery Hat Trick commands ice like a veteran commands a line change—precise, brutal, and perfectly timed.

Instantly freezes terrain, air, and structures

Can weaponize ice into blades, shields, spikes, and crushing impacts

Generates sub-zero shockwaves with every step on the battlefield

Builds up to a devastating Over-Armor state, a kind of “Limit Break” where his strength and vigor are in a state of overdrive

Icebound Physiology His body operates at extreme cold without slowing.

Near-invulnerable skin when fully “iced up”

Enhanced strength, stamina, and pain resistance

Can absorb cold-based attacks to grow stronger

Combat Savant (Hockey Style) Everything he does follows rink logic.

Devastating body checks and physical close in attacks, Tie’em up and wail on them

Momentum-based strikes

Crowd-control tactics that turn chaos into spectacle

Likes:

- Almost any kind of sports, but is a hockey fanatic, when it’s hockey season he’ll show up at the office with whichever Albertan team sweater jersey that is in the lead standing, has curated Calgary Flames and Edmonton Oilers jersey

-Incredibly proud of his heritage, and by extension is very friendly with local reserves and nations in and around Claremont and California

-Loves his sweet treats, will go to great lengths to get his hands on a cheese cake ice cream treat from the place down the street from the SDN building

Dislikes:

- Rascism and Bigortry, team mates and villains alike know the best/worst way to get him going is to insult minority peoples or those who can’t stick up for themselves. More then one villain has met a Cross-Check Rush to the dome after calling the First Nations people some kind of slur

-Alcohol, this is personal, his grandfather was an alcoholic, alcoholism is a plague on his people.

-During a fight, he gets incredibly annoyed and angry when a foe escapes his control. And will go to great lengths to get them back under his control

Quirks:

-Has rigged up a high output speaker and mic system into his armor, so when he’s in a fight he’ll often narrate the altercation. He’ll broadcast hype to his allies and really piss the enemy off by narrating the punishment he’s dealing out to them

-Has a tendency to laugh off stress, he smiles and jokes and laughs to make it seem like he’s in control. But when he starts cackling, and laughing in the middle of a fight, there might be something wrong

-Villians and Criminals with heat and fire based abilities are his anathema clearly, but he hates people who will just set fires for no reason at all. And goes to great lengths to combat that, sort of an unofficial fire fighting hero

Stat Specialisations:

Combat: 2
Vigor: 4
Mobility: 2
Charisma: 4
Intellect: 1

Misc Items:

Burn it to the Ground - Nickelback Theme song often played as he approaches a combat situation over the Speaker system on his Armor. A Canadian staple band, hard hitting and morale boosting

A movement style based around skating and sliding. Think Frozone, but bigger, heavier and less Olympic endurance skating and more NHL juking and power strides. This isn’t elegant figure skating or the long strides of endurance skating. These moves are broad, balanced, powerful. Dynamic and explosive, favoring speed and agility. Making him fast on the turn and quick to stop. And with his size when going fast he hits harder than a truck. He leans forward producing a balanced and power stance, big powerful pumps of his legs sending him hurtling along, but at the same time he has the balance to do turns, spins and glides. He’s not afraid to show off that strength and agility.

Will engage the crowd watching a situation in call and response chants quite often. He's got quite a few. And will urge watchers and team alike to engage, and to Call-out Special Moves that he calls "Plays". Examples of this are:

THE ENTRANCE RITUAL (A CLAREMONT STANDARD)

Hat Trick (low, calm, mic-hot):“CLAREMONT—”
Crowd (instant, thunderous): “HIT!”
Hat Trick: “CLAREMONT—”
Crowd (louder, feet stomping): “HIT!”

And -

THE FINAL CHANT (THE LAUNCH more then likely into a devastating Play)

He drops into a skater’s crouch. Ice coils under his feet.

Hat Trick: “PUCK—”
Crowd: “DOWN!”
Hat Trick: “GAME—”
Crowd: “ON!”

CALLING OUT ON A PLAY (These can get people roaring)

Hat Trick: “Eyes on Me!”
Crowd: “All eyes on!”
Hat Trick: “Let’s take’em to the Cross Check Carnage! Three rounds!”
He forms ice around his bladed hockey stick, and hits the opponents three times, once from behind, again across the shins then a third with a mighty shoulder check. Each time the crowd roars:
Crowd: “One! Two! Three!”

Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont

@FourtyTwo

hello there, been looking at this for abit. And drew up a CS. Hope this is okay.

Tyler Ermineskin - Hat Trick

On Ice

In the Office Arena

"Puck’s Down…Let’s bleed!"

Age: 36

Appearance: 6’6” (198 cm) Big enough to block a doorway. Tall enough to be seen over chaos. 285 lbs (129 kg) Dense. Not bulk for show—this is working mass. Hits land heavy, hard and with weight. Elite-power athlete build, barrel chested, thick neck and broad shouldered, big thick tree trunk like legs built for power off the push, and stability when he plants himself. And a Core with rippling six pack abs, the man looks like a tank, but moves like a freight train that learned footwork.

Role at SDN: Hero Representative (Canadian Transfer) and SDN Public Relations Representative

Background:

Tyler Ermineskin grew up just west of Edmonton, in the bosom of the plains and rocks of the Enoch Cree Nation, right on the western limits of the city. For being one of the richest Reserves in the province (Well done River Cree Well done), it’s also a community of good people, raised right and raised fair. It’s also close to the heart of the rivalry between two great hockey teams, the infamous Battle of Alberta. In the North Corner the Edmonton Oilers, in the South Corner the Calgary Flames. And Hockey has been part of Tyler’s upbringing from the start. He at one pointed wanted to go pro. He trained in the summer in between working on the farm. And skated hard during the cold winters of Northern Alberta. Hockey is in his heart, part of his soul. Just as the Pow Wow and the Sweat Lodge are part of the Cree identity, Hockey is part of that ceremony for Tyler, cold, frozen and power.

Tyler was big early. It was pudge early. But as time went on, as he grew, it went from plump to solid muscle though when he started to put in the work. His skating built his legs and core, weight lifting and other various exercises made him strong and fit as he grew up. As a kid he could outrun and out hit any kid his own age and older on the ice. If he were born earlier and was older when he began to play, in a earlier time, he’d have been picked up as an Enforcer, a Goon. But that’s not what he wanted. He wanted to play. He wanted to play well and he wanted to make people smile and enjoy it while doing it. So he learned how to fight too. When the whistle blew, the puck hit the ice he’d play right, he’d play good, and when the gloves came off he’d hit good and hard. Defense! Defense!

His playing took a second seat though in his early teens, his family moved to Cali, chasing work, chasing change. Sadly there no frozen ponds, no backyard shinny, no frozen boots and clouds of cold breath.

Just hot asphalt and desert and mountains and the ocean side.

So Tyler adapted.

He got a good education.

Business. Public Relations. Human Relations.

He became a People Person.

But he never gave up on his dream. But now he played on the rink of the Corporation. By the time he was in his 20s, he was a boardroom enforcer, he played for the people, made room for making things enjoyable for people he worked with, made things fun for people he worked for.

And in a land of heat and black concrete, he rediscovered his sport again. He found hockey enthusiasts. He began to skate again. Started working for SDN, brought his love for the sport and his powerhouse approach to Public Relations to the company.

Time passed and he worked hard and well. Became one of SDNs go to people to help their image. Socials, Public Events, Meet and Greets. He helped and facilitated. And in it all also squeezed his love of the game of Hockey in.

One time, heading back home, with a cadre of Heroes, they held a shinny charity game back in Enoch. To show the Rez Kids that even in times of poor and loss, people can rise up.

This is about when it all came and flipped.

A chance situation, one in a quadrillion. As they played some strange cryo tech being used in the arena to keep the ice perfect went on the fritz. And an until now unknown ancient Native American energy source buried under the reserve linked to some ceremony ages ago, mixed, broke then unleashed. The building cracked, the ice shattered. People scattered. Girds shattered in the cold. In hockey pads Tyler hammered up and pulled people from the wreckage. The ancient spirits of this old ceremony rose up, tired and a little pissed at being sealed. Sought out something.

And rather then their captor, found someone trying to safe people. Whatever intelligence was there, flipped. And merged with the powerhouse holding up an subzero freezing girder.

When the heroes he came with and local SDN rescuers came to help, they found him standing in a dome of deep blue almost glacial ice.

No one there knew what to make of it. He’d help up cold steel, helped trapped victims, and stood against the cold face to face. And the cold rather then killing him, worked to empower him.

In the face of potential pain, he’d shown, Courage, Power, and Caring.

The people he saved didn’t see just a simple rescue.

They saw a Hat Trick.

His group of heroes and SDN fellow employees went back to Cali, with a story. He stayed behind to learn how to use his new powers. It took almost a year, before he returned to California, with a registration to use his powers, and the Hero name of “Hat Trick”.

The name stuck, his love of the game grew. But he still played in the arena of the board room and the social stadium.

Appearance: Jet black hair, long, worn back or braided; often tied with traditional feather adornment when unarmored. Ice-green with steel flecks eyes Cold stare, but alive—never dead, never empty. Medium brown, weathered skin tone, an outdoorsy sort, fits he likes his shinny, and no one from Enoch will miss out on a chance to strip off their shirt in summer and play some field hockey. Prominent facial scarring across cheek and brow, Old knuckle damage, Shoulder and forearm scar tissue Every one earned. None regretted.

In his armor he appears Broad-shouldered, low center of gravity, Heavy reinforced boots with ice-channeling tech, Blue and orange armor reads “hero” at a distance and “problem” up close, Ice manifests first at his feet, then creeps outward—visual warning system, and when it surrounds his feet, fists and legs like a second layer of armor, then you’re really boned.

Out of armor he prefers, “Power Suits” and outfits that say, “Look-At-Me”. His suits are often strong blazers or suit jackets with crisp dress shirts and good fashionable dress pants, with good strong leather boots and shoes, that could be easily at home in a broad room or kicking in a door in a pinch. Casually he likes his short sleeved shirts, in neutral and dark colors, jogging pants and jeans, with good serviceable sneakers and boots.

Powers:

Cryokinetic Mastery Hat Trick commands ice like a veteran commands a line change—precise, brutal, and perfectly timed.

Instantly freezes terrain, air, and structures

Can weaponize ice into blades, shields, spikes, and crushing impacts

Generates sub-zero shockwaves with every step on the battlefield

Builds up to a devastating Over-Armor state, a kind of “Limit Break” where his strength and vigor are in a state of overdrive

Icebound Physiology His body operates at extreme cold without slowing.

Near-invulnerable skin when fully “iced up”

Enhanced strength, stamina, and pain resistance

Can absorb cold-based attacks to grow stronger

Combat Savant (Hockey Style) Everything he does follows rink logic.

Devastating body checks and physical close in attacks, Tie’em up and wail on them

Momentum-based strikes

Crowd-control tactics that turn chaos into spectacle

Likes:

- Almost any kind of sports, but is a hockey fanatic, when it’s hockey season he’ll show up at the office with whichever Albertan team sweater jersey that is in the lead standing, has curated Calgary Flames and Edmonton Oilers jersey

-Incredibly proud of his heritage, and by extension is very friendly with local reserves and nations in and around Claremont and California

-Loves his sweet treats, will go to great lengths to get his hands on a cheese cake ice cream treat from the place down the street from the SDN building

Dislikes:

- Rascism and Bigortry, team mates and villains alike know the best/worst way to get him going is to insult minority peoples or those who can’t stick up for themselves. More then one villain has met a Cross-Check Rush to the dome after calling the First Nations people some kind of slur

-Alcohol, this is personal, his grandfather was an alcoholic, alcoholism is a plague on his people.

-During a fight, he gets incredibly annoyed and angry when a foe escapes his control. And will go to great lengths to get them back under his control

Quirks:

-Has rigged up a high output speaker and mic system into his armor, so when he’s in a fight he’ll often narrate the altercation. He’ll broadcast hype to his allies and really piss the enemy off by narrating the punishment he’s dealing out to them

-Has a tendency to laugh off stress, he smiles and jokes and laughs to make it seem like he’s in control. But when he starts cackling, and laughing in the middle of a fight, there might be something wrong

-Villians and Criminals with heat and fire based abilities are his anathema clearly, but he hates people who will just set fires for no reason at all. And goes to great lengths to combat that, sort of an unofficial fire fighting hero

Stat Specialisations:

Combat: 2
Vigor: 4
Mobility: 2
Charisma: 4
Intellect: 1

Misc Items:

Burn it to the Ground - Nickelback Theme song often played as he approaches a combat situation over the Speaker system on his Armor. A Canadian staple band, hard hitting and morale boosting

A movement style based around skating and sliding. Think Frozone, but bigger, heavier and less Olympic endurance skating and more NHL juking and power strides. This isn’t elegant figure skating or the long strides of endurance skating. These moves are broad, balanced, powerful. Dynamic and explosive, favoring speed and agility. Making him fast on the turn and quick to stop. And with his size when going fast he hits harder than a truck. He leans forward producing a balanced and power stance, big powerful pumps of his legs sending him hurtling along, but at the same time he has the balance to do turns, spins and glides. He’s not afraid to show off that strength and agility.

Will engage the crowd watching a situation in call and response chants quite often. He's got quite a few. And will urge watchers and team alike to engage, and to Call-out Special Moves that he calls "Plays". Examples of this are:

THE ENTRANCE RITUAL (A CLAREMONT STANDARD)

Hat Trick (low, calm, mic-hot):“CLAREMONT—”
Crowd (instant, thunderous): “HIT!”
Hat Trick: “CLAREMONT—”
Crowd (louder, feet stomping): “HIT!”

And -

THE FINAL CHANT (THE LAUNCH more then likely into a devastating Play)

He drops into a skater’s crouch. Ice coils under his feet.

Hat Trick: “PUCK—”
Crowd: “DOWN!”
Hat Trick: “GAME—”
Crowd: “ON!”

CALLING OUT ON A PLAY (These can get people roaring)

Hat Trick: “Eyes on Me!”
Crowd: “All eyes on!”
Hat Trick: “Let’s take’em to the Cross Check Carnage! Three rounds!”
He forms ice around his bladed hockey stick, and hits the opponents three times, once from behind, again across the shins then a third with a mighty shoulder check. Each time the crowd roars:
Crowd: “One! Two! Three!”

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller)

Day 2
Outside of Koley Railyard, Koley,
Libor Province,
Republic of Polavia

As the first fire fight died out, Silas went around the team. Even if they didn't need it he slugged everyone magic , green for healing, sparkling off his knuckles. All except Borys and Felix. They got to watch him stalk towards them and pull his cudgel. They had about 12 seconds between them before he swung for center field. And lucky them he remembers to turn his healing magic in! Only the impact and the healing and none of the damage the spiked cudgel would have done.

As things die down he goes about the field and starts to pillage abit. Bandages, a few vials of morphine, a really nice antibiotic autoinjector from one of the officers.

And just as hea about to jump aboard the trucks he slows. Then whistles. "Hello there my dear." Bending over and pulling a KS-23 from the cooling hands of one of the bodies. Rifling through pockets he finds a handful of the large shells meant for the immense scatter gun.

As he boards up he pulls the smaller scattergun off his shoulder and offers it around, "Anyone got room? I just found something even better." He pats the big cannon with s grin.

He sets the smaller shotgun in a carry bin in the back and as he plays scavenger in the back of the truck for.more ammo the rolling fire fight begins. He snails, "we cannot catch a break!" Drawing his pistol he rattles off some shots. Plugging one of the passengers. Then turning and shouting "Malaka what did I tell you about needing to heal you again!" He shouted having to watch Borys hold up.against shots again.

Ad they approached the train he helped get people aboard before boarding himself. And just in tome as their ride got rammed. He leans out the car, "Rowan? Felix? Malaka!"

But soon they are racing back. He motions, "Come on!" Helping to get them on board and if the haymakers he gives them.both are a little bit more vehement then needed well that's a Healers Rage for you.

He does pull his cudgel and wails on the big cat for abit making damn sure he's healed. One blow...two...three...four. he expects someone to stop him at one point. Right before he stops himself.

He flops to the train car floor, "you know what...a few days ago...while.doing house calls i thought i missed this crap...Wonder why?" He slugs his way over and cracks a crate, "hmm don't think they'd miss a bottle huh?" Rwaching into his medbag he pulls a wicked looking knife using it to Crack the top, "emm..." and he tips back before offering the bottle around, "might be the only joy we get for awhile." He expound as everyone catches their breath.

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller)

Day 2
Grestin Monastery,
Somewhere overlooking the the village of Pristupin,
Libor Province,
Republic of Polavia

Silas growls, getting to his feet after getting into cover with Rowan. He grumbles the first fire fighting running it's course. He only then rounds on Rowan, "Better to be alive then standing in the open. Broken casts, and forgiveness are easier to recover from and get then a bullet in the forehead." He tugs his coat and plate carrier back into place after the brief wrestling match.

He gives her a strangely caring look, no not caring. Almost parental. He sniffs and shakes his head. Before he looks away though, she has about enough time to gasp in surprise as his big fist whistles through the air and smacks her on the shoulder. His knuckle dusters glowing. And his healing magic rippling through her.

He turns away from her with abit of a smile, "Okay let's see, anyone else?" He looks around spotting Borys, he nods, "Ahhh I see." He checks everyone else visually first making sure no one else needs help. He's crossing the distance between them, when that UAZ mounted DShK starts to cough. Silas snarled, "Ahhh Malaka!" He dodges back, then digs into his pack, "Damn! I forgot to grab smokes." He growls. He ducks and Roadie Runs the rest of the way to Borys. He looks him over, pawing at him to check him over, "Ahhh you're relatively okay." And the rabbit punch to his shoulder sends that wave of healing magic through Borys, he then turns and checks for a clearing during the fire, growling back at Borys, "Don't make me do it again too soon!" Silas racks his shotgun and coughs one, two rounds the way of the UAZ and the approaching OpFor, "I don't know if we want to wait here for too long!" He shouts as he Roadie Runs back to Rowan. Sliding on his knees into place beside her. He nods to her, "Looks like we can't stay apart huh?"

He moves onto the flank with her, ducking from cover to cover. As Rowan hid behind a tree, Silas again Roadie Ran his way up closer. Close enough that he could hear the SA soldiers barking at each other. He waved to Rowan to give her a visual signal of his location. He saw her draw another potion and that ugly cloud of gas forming. He nods, waits, until some of the baddies started to cough in reaction. That's when he swung out from behind his cover and pumped the last of the rounds in the tube of his shotgun into the SA thugs from the side.

Thump, Thunk, Crunk, Ka-dun.

He chortles, "Ahhh like doing the work of the Gods." He says as he swings back into cover and begins to reload his shotgun. Ducking down low when a few of the thugs wicker rounds at his cover, "Your aim leaves alot to be desired!" He calls to them keeping those few with their attention on him.

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller)

Day 1
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia
Camping Out

The only thing he could really do is sit there and listen. And can't help but grin, "If you think I have any ability to pass on the religious judgement...you're wrong. I'm a Medic not a Priest. And I know less about animal husbandry." Okay maybe he's being too literal. As people are sipping tea and going over the plan he digs into his medic pack, "Come on...it's not just for disinfecting things..."

He gives off semi-committal grunts are things are discussed. He got the gist of it. A tough situation, worry about being discovered, identification problems. He hums and wonders to himself if he should have remembered to bring his Polavian Medical Licence. He really should have had it on him all the time to make it look like he's a registered member of the the medical community around here. Maybe it would have worked to get them past a check point or two in the future. Stupid of him to forget it.

As everyone is being so serious he finally crows, "Ah ha! Knew I had it here!" A tall maybe foot long tin canister, a jury rigged canteen, maybe 3 inches wide, "I knew I had brought something along!" He popped the top, anyone within about 5 feet would get the scent of a truly strong vodka. He tips it back and growls happily, "Ahhh that will wake you up. Good for three things, Killing Brain cells, disinfecting wounds and de-greasing engines." yes he passes it around. A little rot gut hurts no one.

Day 2
A Date with Unfortunate Ideas
Grestin Monastery,
Somewhere overlooking the the village of Pristupin,
Libor Province,
Republic of Polavia

You ever just stop to look at the Stars?

As the ragtag, rough team moved through the trees and brush and cool of the night, Silas found himself stopping and looking up through the canopy, at the stars above. The Night sky. He sniffed and rubbed a gloved hand over his nose, "Malaka it's always something else." HE took a moment to watch a big bright blue star, one of the old Navigation Stars burn in the dark of the night above.

He then looked back down and scanned the crew.

Falling into Medic mode as he scanned everyone. Some were showing stress, other nerves, a few anxiety. He sniffed and trudged up, digging into his medical pack, grabbing a small bottle of water. Walking up and smacking it into Keodis' chest, "Drink, Hydrate. Calm your nerves yeah? Gamoto this is a screw up." He sniffs and tries to run up to Rowan, but before he can get there they reach the edge of the woods and the ruins beyond. He palms his scattergun, "Damn..." And the spread of military types among them and the outpost, "What the hell is this?"

He's turning to the others when the argument between Felix, Rowan and Oksana began. He sighed and rubbed his nose, "Probably part of the reason that Reactor burned down right there." He says to no one in particular.

He looked and he could tell what was about to happen as Rowan tensed then began to move. "vlammeni! What are you! Gamoto!" He growls as explosions of potions began to crack, Rowan's whip cracked. He spent all of about 15 seconds before he wracked the slide of his scattergun, really wishing he had his big KS right now. He surged up, and tried to tackle Rowan, down off the wall and down into cover. Growling at her as he does, "Do not make my job of all things harder you damn fool! Be angry, kill people. But do not kill yourself!" He tried to drag Rowan into cover behind a pillar of stone. Peeking around the pillar and then blind firing towards a group of the enemy. He growled, "Gamóto, tha katouríso to spíti sou kai ólous tous syngeneís sou!"

Translations

Gamoto - Fuck/Fucking
Vlammeni - Idiot! (feminine)
Malaka - All purpose swear word, close to saying "Dick head"
Gamóto, tha katouríso to spíti sou kai ólous tous syngeneís sou! - "Fucking hell I will piss on your house and all your relatives!" Like wiping your ass with Greek Linen hehe

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller)

Day 1 0630
St. Vitali Memorial Clinic
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

"Silas! Silas! Get your Lipolin ass up you fuck!" The voice is growly and honestly sounds like nails on a chalkboard. The kind of voice that is either a politician, a unloved teacher or a landlord. Depending on where you are could be two of the three at once or even all three. They aren't mutually exclusive. In this case Danov Kerril is the land owner on which the Clinic sits on. Normally he'd be speaking to the clinic director. But today he's bugging the squat looking dark haired olive skinned man who comes stumping down from a attic room. Silas looks slightly up at the man, and looks about to say something when Danov shoves a list into Silas' chest. Silas blinks. Then Danov growls. "Director Krenic says for you to do home visits." Silas sighs. Not even opening time and he's already been voluntold. With a nod he watch Danov limp off. Honestly wondering if he could just smack.the man upside the head, healing his hip and give him an up...nah not as fun this way. He checked the time and the list of visits. Of course the first one is across town and in less then 30.minutes. Gathering his medical bag and EMT gear he heads out. Silas has got alot to do today. He'd seen the last name though Babushka Oksana. Atleast his last visit will be nice.

Day 1: 17:40:10...
Oksana's Babushka's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

The door swung open and the old lady looked up at Silas. She grinned. "Doctor Lipoli, Come to visit Grandma? Time for check up already?" She gave a dry cackle and turned waving Silas inside. He grinned, ever since he got here and took up Babushkas care she's always been a hoot. Arthritis, osteoporosis and other maladies but she still cackled with the best. And wasn't afraid to whack him if he was being stupid.

She sat at the table and placed her arm on it. "Come on then. Do your worst." Silas grinned.

So began her check up.

Day 1: 18:01:42...
Oksana's Babushka's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Silas is just packing up his kit when Babushka pats his arm, "You stay for dinner yes? Shanka be home soon. Say hi. Oh...maybe them now!" She shuffles to her feet. And goes to answer the door. That's when a whole gaggle of people enter moments later. He stares, looking shocked to see so many people come to visit the old lady. He stands there like a deer in the headlights.

Holy...he knows some of these people...at a distance anyway.

And thats why he tries to tug his shirt sleeve down over the Reactor undershirt he has on under his tan colored t shirt.

Silas coughs "Lots of guests there grandma." He calls, looking st the group. Oh yes he recognizes a few of them. And he recognizes the aftermath of a brawl, and a flight from something.

Great.

He takes a deep breath and begins to help set out the bowls, "Sure you're gonna have enough Babushka?" The old lady smacks him on the shoulder, "Plenty, sit, make friends. Silas works his jaw the does as hea told looking around at everyone. He chuckled, "So...what happened?"

And the explanation is a story.

Day 1: 21:21:42
Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Stepping outside with the group he hikes his medics bag up then turns "Keep up with your medicine." He waves her off as she cackles and raises the glass of whiskey she's sipping. "Yes that too. And if you need anything ask for Jadin At the clinic."

He's turning back to the group as they are arming up. "Alright, trust then...the lot of you are going to need a medic sooner or later. I never thought I'd be working with a Bunch of former Reactor again. But well why the hell not?"

Reaching into the crate he digs about. And soon finds a workable revolver something that fits his tastes and a decent scatter gun, nothing like the big KS23 he left behind...at the clinic with the remains if his Reactor gear. But he had his Hippocratic Oaths and his big Red Cross Club atleast. On top of his medics bag. He could do his job at least.

He slipped the knuckle dusters on, and took a deep breath as he could feel the magic swell, "Emmm thats nice." He mutters to himself mostly.

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller)

Okay White Mage Rage ready to roll?

Tag: White Mage Rage

Name: Silas Adonis Contou

Age: 44

Gender: Male

Nationality: The Republic of Liboli

Craft: Combat Medical Healer - A fighting White Mage as it were, with a caveat. He needs to inflict an impact to instill the healing. This often takes the form of him bashing someone across the back of the head or shooting someone with a less-then-lethal shot. Beanbang from a shotgun, rock salt round, or his favorite running up, and smashing his fist into the wound site.

This stemmed from his time as a Paramedic and Emergency Medical Technician in Civilian life before he joined the Liboli Military. As a Paramedic and EMT he often had to witness really bad injuries in really stupid conditions. Someone ran a red light and ended up impaling some poor kid on a sign post, or a street fight breaks some drunk morons neck. And he'd show up after to treat this and knuckle up, say "We'll do what he can." It got to him.

Really got to him.

At a five vehicle, fifteen person accident, his unit was one of three responders (yeah amazing huh?). It's during this that he Broke Through or Unlocked, call it what you want. He was helping a fire responder opening a vehicle, and getting people out. Only to watch a mother losing the fight in his arms. She reached towards her infant daughter. Something inside her was losing the fight. And something just shattered. He roared, chambered back his fist, and punches the woman in the chest. Responders roared in horror, before they could get at him to pull him away he brought his fist down again in a hammer fashion. This time, a flare of Magic. out from the point of impact. To the tune of his roar of rage.

And the woman came back. Almost dead and she came back.

Silas panting, clearly not seeing clearly let the woman's head drop to the ground gently, before he staggered to the others, He "hit" two more spiking his new Healing ability twice more before one of the responders tugged him to the side.

He'd later to be described as to looking like he ran a trio of Marathons back to back.

After training, lots of training and joining Reactor, he'd learn it took anger, rage and thoughts of loss to trigger his Magic, and that it really helped if he hit his subject with something blunt, luckily he like's to punch things huh?

Vessels Carried

Medic's Bag - A hold over from his time as a paramedic, it allows him to key into the healing magic and actually carries his main Vessel

The Hippocratic Oath...Knuckle Dusters - A paired set of steel burnished knuckle dusters, made from the recovered metal from the sthetscope, medical scissors, and belt buckle he had been wearing when he first unlocked his magic

Red Cross Club - A big heavy truncheon, made of a lead core with a dark oak wooden sheath, with medical cross studs all up and down it's length, Bonk Cures Bonk

Channels Carried

Medic's bag - both Channel and Vessel, holds his knuckle dusters and club. Can super charge his healing magic.

Smaller Bonk - A lighter black jack style hitter, he'll off hand it when he's holding the Red Cross, or have it tucked into his fist when he's got the knuckle dusters on. Works as a good close range weapon if need be, and empowers his healing

Appearance:

What? Yer not dying...

Squat, broad and big boned, but not in a fat sense. Dark haired, with swarthy olive colored skin.

Bio: On the first meeting, Silas comes across as a straight forward, tired and somewhat mean man, someone who really shouldn't be in a position of healing and physical care. On the second meeting...well he's still tired, mean and straight forward, but by that time a person has likely seen Silas charge into a fire fight, tackle a wounded ally, bear them to the ground or alternatively suplex them and pummel them for a short bit, all while screaming for them to get into cover or to stop getting hurt.

Upon third meeting people.learn that Silas is actually a bundle of rage and caring rolled into a blunt of olive skin. He's mean to keep.people alive. He's angry because it fuels his healing magic. And he's straight forward because someone had to be during the firefight.

Astonishingly he's got a courageous streak wider then the ocean, and will always charge into fire to help someone. No it doesn't mean he's unafraid, thats his job. And will.he be screaming like a mad man the whole time because of their idiocy? Of Course he will.

History: Pre-Reactor Silas spent time in the Liboli Military as a Combat Medic. With the awakening of his Magic before joining up he was fast tracked into the magical corps pretty quick. Before the military he was a full time paramedic EMT working on call outs and Emergency services. Just like his time in the medical Civilian sector the military medical landscape was more intense. Responding to a shooting was different with the military...usually because the shooting was still going on. At first he eschewed weaponry of his own, choosing instead to charge in unarmed and get the job done. For.much of his military career he didn't carry a gun.

That changed quickly when he joined Reactor. Right out of military service he was recruited by the Reactor Medical division. Better pay, clearer objective. Hey he could work with that. At first he tried his original.plan. no guns. That didn't work.out. his first Reactor deployment had the OpFor popping shots off at him. So he grabbed a discarded pistol and shot back. Before the next deployment he got a crash course in weapons. Tried to hand him an AR then a DMR then a Long rifle. He wouldn't have it. "I do all my work up close." He had rumbled. They slapped a big pistol into his hands. That had worked. And them on his way out. He stopped. Ohhh...scatter gun...he fell in love. He tried all kinds. He went into his next deployment with a sawn down mossberg variant. It wasn't until.late into his Reactor career that he got his hands on the big brute KS-23. Never looked back.

Post Reactor he got drummed out and tried to return to the civilian sector. That didn't workout. Well okay it did but it wasn't the same. It didn't have the same adrenaline of combat medicine. And the Polavian medical.scene wasn't all that great. So he ended up drifting from town to town occasionally utilizing his skills. But it wasn't quite the same.

Weaponry (including Channels):
Primary - KS-23 23mm/6 guage shotgun (big scatter gun)
Secondary - Ruger Super Redhawk .454 casull (big ass revolver that Alucard would love)
Alternates - Chiappa Triple Crown (triple barrel break action 20 guage shotgun), Mossberg Maverick Slide Action Shotgun (classic rack and roll shotgun in 20 guage), Arsenal Firearms AF2011-A1 (double barreled, dual firing 1911 style pistol in .45 ACP), TTI Pit Viper (With the Ferocious Fangs and firing 9mm)

Other gear/weapons/equipment:

Smoke Canister Grenade - Blue x2, Red x2, White x6
Hornets Nest Anti Riot grenades (rubber balls in a compressed ball, hurts like hell) x4
Carries a full Medical Kit in a secondary medics bag. Everything for a field operation...
Food(non-perishable), water and a field cooking kit just in case
Tactical PDA, with a limited satellite uplink, to keep notes on those people he might be treating
A wonderfully wicked tanto bladed karambit knife.
Carries a tin canister flask filled with that days rotgut
His armor takes the form of a chest plate carrier with combat webbing and a medics band, thigh and hip kevlar ensemble, and a helmet with medics cross ribbon on it.

Other useful information:

Hobbies - Has a wonderful liking of liquor, and likes to mix drinks in his off hours. Often making his own Rotgut drink, or homemade vodka. Also enjoys working on models, things like robot snap kits and the like. Absolutely loves to cook. Stood as the Reactor Medic Corps. Boxing Champion for several years running, no wonder huh? Might be a raging yet functioning alcoholic

Likes

His Squad alive and hale
The Zen of a good drink
The click of a model getting into place
The adrenaline of a fight, and pulling a Doc Roe on an ally

Dislikes

Not knowing the score of a situation
Lite Alcohol
A squaddie getting hurt and he can't tend to it immediately

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller)

Okay White Mage Rage ready to roll?

Tag: White Mage Rage

Name: Silas Adonis Contou

Age: 44

Gender: Male

Nationality: The Republic of Liboli

Craft: Combat Medical Healer - A fighting White Mage as it were, with a caveat. He needs to inflict an impact to instill the healing. This often takes the form of him bashing someone across the back of the head or shooting someone with a less-then-lethal shot. Beanbang from a shotgun, rock salt round, or his favorite running up, and smashing his fist into the wound site.

This stemmed from his time as a Paramedic and Emergency Medical Technician in Civilian life before he joined the Liboli Military. As a Paramedic and EMT he often had to witness really bad injuries in really stupid conditions. Someone ran a red light and ended up impaling some poor kid on a sign post, or a street fight breaks some drunk morons neck. And he'd show up after to treat this and knuckle up, say "We'll do what he can." It got to him.

Really got to him.

At a five vehicle, fifteen person accident, his unit was one of three responders (yeah amazing huh?). It's during this that he Broke Through or Unlocked, call it what you want. He was helping a fire responder opening a vehicle, and getting people out. Only to watch a mother losing the fight in his arms. She reached towards her infant daughter. Something inside her was losing the fight. And something just shattered. He roared, chambered back his fist, and punches the woman in the chest. Responders roared in horror, before they could get at him to pull him away he brought his fist down again in a hammer fashion. This time, a flare of Magic. out from the point of impact. To the tune of his roar of rage.

And the woman came back. Almost dead and she came back.

Silas panting, clearly not seeing clearly let the woman's head drop to the ground gently, before he staggered to the others, He "hit" two more spiking his new Healing ability twice more before one of the responders tugged him to the side.

He'd later to be described as to looking like he ran a trio of Marathons back to back.

After training, lots of training and joining Reactor, he'd learn it took anger, rage and thoughts of loss to trigger his Magic, and that it really helped if he hit his subject with something blunt, luckily he like's to punch things huh?

Vessels Carried

Medic's Bag - A hold over from his time as a paramedic, it allows him to key into the healing magic and actually carries his main Vessel

The Hippocratic Oath...Knuckle Dusters - A paired set of steel burnished knuckle dusters, made from the recovered metal from the sthetscope, medical scissors, and belt buckle he had been wearing when he first unlocked his magic

Red Cross Club - A big heavy truncheon, made of a lead core with a dark oak wooden sheath, with medical cross studs all up and down it's length, Bonk Cures Bonk

Channels Carried

Medic's bag - both Channel and Vessel, holds his knuckle dusters and club. Can super charge his healing magic.

Smaller Bonk - A lighter black jack style hitter, he'll off hand it when he's holding the Red Cross, or have it tucked into his fist when he's got the knuckle dusters on. Works as a good close range weapon if need be, and empowers his healing

Appearance:

What? Yer not dying...

Squat, broad and big boned, but not in a fat sense. Dark haired, with swarthy olive colored skin.

Bio: On the first meeting, Silas comes across as a straight forward, tired and somewhat mean man, someone who really shouldn't be in a position of healing and physical care. On the second meeting...well he's still tired, mean and straight forward, but by that time a person has likely seen Silas charge into a fire fight, tackle a wounded ally, bear them to the ground or alternatively suplex them and pummel them for a short bit, all while screaming for them to get into cover or to stop getting hurt.

Upon third meeting people.learn that Silas is actually a bundle of rage and caring rolled into a blunt of olive skin. He's mean to keep.people alive. He's angry because it fuels his healing magic. And he's straight forward because someone had to be during the firefight.

Astonishingly he's got a courageous streak wider then the ocean, and will always charge into fire to help someone. No it doesn't mean he's unafraid, thats his job. And will.he be screaming like a mad man the whole time because of their idiocy? Of Course he will.

History: Pre-Reactor Silas spent time in the Liboli Military as a Combat Medic. With the awakening of his Magic before joining up he was fast tracked into the magical corps pretty quick. Before the military he was a full time paramedic EMT working on call outs and Emergency services. Just like his time in the medical Civilian sector the military medical landscape was more intense. Responding to a shooting was different with the military...usually because the shooting was still going on. At first he eschewed weaponry of his own, choosing instead to charge in unarmed and get the job done. For.much of his military career he didn't carry a gun.

That changed quickly when he joined Reactor. Right out of military service he was recruited by the Reactor Medical division. Better pay, clearer objective. Hey he could work with that. At first he tried his original.plan. no guns. That didn't work.out. his first Reactor deployment had the OpFor popping shots off at him. So he grabbed a discarded pistol and shot back. Before the next deployment he got a crash course in weapons. Tried to hand him an AR then a DMR then a Long rifle. He wouldn't have it. "I do all my work up close." He had rumbled. They slapped a big pistol into his hands. That had worked. And them on his way out. He stopped. Ohhh...scatter gun...he fell in love. He tried all kinds. He went into his next deployment with a sawn down mossberg variant. It wasn't until.late into his Reactor career that he got his hands on the big brute KS-23. Never looked back.

Post Reactor he got drummed out and tried to return to the civilian sector. That didn't workout. Well okay it did but it wasn't the same. It didn't have the same adrenaline of combat medicine. And the Polavian medical.scene wasn't all that great. So he ended up drifting from town to town occasionally utilizing his skills. But it wasn't quite the same.

Weaponry (including Channels):
Primary - KS-23 23mm/6 guage shotgun (big scatter gun)
Secondary - Ruger Super Redhawk .454 casull (big ass revolver that Alucard would love)
Alternates - Chiappa Triple Crown (triple barrel break action 20 guage shotgun), Mossberg Maverick Slide Action Shotgun (classic rack and roll shotgun in 20 guage), Arsenal Firearms AF2011-A1 (double barreled, dual firing 1911 style pistol in .45 ACP), TTI Pit Viper (With the Ferocious Fangs and firing 9mm)

Other gear/weapons/equipment:

Smoke Canister Grenade - Blue x2, Red x2, White x6
Hornets Nest Anti Riot grenades (rubber balls in a compressed ball, hurts like hell) x4
Carries a full Medical Kit in a secondary medics bag. Everything for a field operation...
Food(non-perishable), water and a field cooking kit just in case
Tactical PDA, with a limited satellite uplink, to keep notes on those people he might be treating
A wonderfully wicked tanto bladed karambit knife.
Carries a tin canister flask filled with that days rotgut
His armor takes the form of a chest plate carrier with combat webbing and a medics band, thigh and hip kevlar ensemble, and a helmet with medics cross ribbon on it.

Other useful information:

Hobbies - Has a wonderful liking of liquor, and likes to mix drinks in his off hours. Often making his own Rotgut drink, or homemade vodka. Also enjoys working on models, things like robot snap kits and the like. Absolutely loves to cook. Stood as the Reactor Medic Corps. Boxing Champion for several years running, no wonder huh? Might be a raging yet functioning alcoholic

Likes

His Squad alive and hale
The Zen of a good drink
The click of a model getting into place
The adrenaline of a fight, and pulling a Doc Roe on an ally

Dislikes

Not knowing the score of a situation
Lite Alcohol
A squaddie getting hurt and he can't tend to it immediately

Raven Squad: Second Storm (Military/Spy-Fi RP) (COMPLETED)

It only feels like the end

For the Scion

4 months after landing

"Alright Ladies and gentleman, this is it. Almost a decade since his father broke the Conan's Wheel Record and set a new one. What do you think Eddie?" The other voice on the PA barks, "I tell you, Magnusson and Hafþór and I used to fight tooth and nail to keep up with Victor, the man would set something down, Mag would break it by one, then Hafþór and I would match it or break it, then Victor would come along and set a new upper limit. Back then the World Strongest Man was bonkers. And here we have a whole new crop of kids and young man who are bonkers strong too. And of course no surprise." Eddie Hall gestures at the ground and Jamie throws a arm into the air, pumping up the crowd. The other announcer nods, "There he is Jamie Cole Kanatariio, son of Victor Kanatariio, famous WSM champion. Victor still holds records in most of the events that we've seen. But today, the son may have a chance to break his father's record."

Eddie claps and shouts down, "Come on Scion! Lock in." Jamie grins and salutes one of his teachers. He settles in getting a good Zecher grip on the Conan's Wheel. Eddie speaks into the mic again, "Victor set the last record at 1529 degrees, people have gotten close but no one has had the hard stamina and power to break it. Closest is 1289, set by Will Tecker 2 years ago. But during interviews Jamie said he's been doing some heavy training. Apparently he took a break off for abit doing that work his publist won't talk about. Sure we all thought Victor and Natalie were trust fund babies until that fight in Basel years ago. But never got it straight. But you can tell Jamie is hungry. He wants his Father's record. Here we go!"

An air horn bleats. Jamie surges, lifting the heavy bar and the huge basket of stones off the ground and begins to walk the circle. Step after step.

Minutes later

"That's 900 degrees, he's on track. Can he keep going?" Eddie leans forward, "By now, most other competitors would be faltering, but Jamie looks locked in, he's on track to meet his father, I can just imagine the inner gaze of this guy, he can probably see the ghost of his dad walking in front of him. Come on Scion!" Old Arnie himself paces slowly along with Jamie, motioning him to keep going. Other competitors are on their feet hollering for him not to give up.

Jamie is hard locked, nothing matters but his feet stepping, keeping the weight centers. He's got a long way to go.

More time later

"1280...1285....1290! He just walked right by Teckers attempt and hasn't slowed down! He's on perfect track he could make it!" Eddie hall hollers, "Come on Scion! Don't you dare slow down! Come on! Muscle on! Come on! You're seeing it here, record in the making. Scion Jamie Kanatariio on track to maybe beat his dad!"

Jamie huffs, red in the face, but not once slowing down. In his mind he can see his dad pacing just in front of him, buckled down and just out of reach. But every step lets him catch up.

Moments later

Eddie screams into the mic, old Arnie inching along with Jamie, old Arnie screaming, "Come on boy 1500...you got this come on!"

Eddie bellow, "1510...1515...I can't believe I'm seeing this...1520..."

Jamie roars suddenly and picks up speed, huffing breathes.

Eddie growls, "1525...dear god...he's gonna do it! Come on Scion!"

The crowd roars as the degree counter breaks 1530 degrees.

Eddie Hall screaming and bouncing up and down. Old Arnie cheering even as Jamie keeps going, more steps. Eddie almost blubbering, "1550...1555...wait...he's faltering...he's...get medics in there!"

Jamie finally falls at 1564 degrees. A small trail of blood leaking from his nose from where he bashed it on the metal length he'd been holding the whole thing up with. Panting he lays on his side, then throws a hand in the air from the ground, causing the stadium to go crazy.

Eddie and the other Announcer hollering into mics, "He did it! he beat his own fathers record and set the bar even higher! His record stands at 1564 degrees on the Conan's Wheel! I can't believe it, history of the WSM has been made here tonight with Scion Jamie C. Kanatariio setting a new record. I don't know where ol Victor is, but he's probably cheering his son on. Ahhh Jamie's back on his feet! Let's hear it folks. Ol' Arnie himself is out there with the young man of the hour!"

The televised event closes with Jamie red in the face puffing hard as a billows, speaking with Eddie Hall and Ol' Arnie about his accomplishment.

The Memorial

While one portion of the team paid respects to Skye in their way, Ban Kingo knelt to the side, wearing white from head to toe, a replica of his armor, the breastplate that looked like yoroi, but kevlar and plates instead rested lightly on his shoulders, white ribbons on his head, around his arms, with a white kimono under his armor. White being the color of death in Japanese culture.

He knelt in front of the memorial, going through a classic Japanese Buddhist funeral ritual. But with a fairly ancient looking additions.

At one point he stands and with a war fan in one hand, and a tree branch with white paper ribbons on it he did a funerary dance in front of the memorial. Then in another moment he bursts into a Sword Dance, as if defending the memorial from something coming to stop the spirit from making it to the beyond. In the end he kneels once more, and cracks open a bottle of sake. Pouring two cups, sliding one to the memorial and quaffing back the other.

He stays slightly apart from the group, and whispers, "Skye...thank you...I loved you...I would have said but we were busy. Rest well...I seek your permission to return to Japan, return to my family. My debt to you must have been paid by now. But if you ever need me...don't hesitate to call for me, even if it's from beyond the grave.

A few days later back in Japan

Ban sat across from Sam, looking over the orgy of information. All the Amagi Groups closest enemies, and their allies, information on the biggest families as well. There was dirt on the Inagawa and Sumiboshi-kai clans, even a whole section on the Kobe Yamaguchi-gumi the traitors. But what surprised him the most was dark dirt on their parent clan, the Yamaguchi-gumi, the largest, strongest and richest Yakuza clan in all of Japan.

He looked across at Sam in awe, "Sam-sensei...you are amazing. I'll have to turn the stuff on the Yamaguchi in, the Amagi and the Kingo clan are members of their Clan, I would never think of trying to back stab them. But, the other stuff, I can use." He smiles.

Leaning back then listens to her provisos and limitations. His hand clenches on his sword grip, "Agreed...I'll take down the smaller clans around here, stomp them out, take back these lands for the Amagi Clan. But I agree, no human trafficking...and as an addition we'll keep drugs and liquor away from children and families as much as we can." He draws his sword and slits open the back of his forearm shallowly, "I swear on my blood and my blade, I'll do right by what you've given me Sam-sensei...thank you." He smiles then reaches across and shakes her hand, "Keep an eye on the newly weds for me would you? Please? I think I'll be busy too busy to come and check on anyone. I have alot of fighting and death ahead of me. The Kingo Family and Amagi Clan have things to do." He stands up and gathers everything up, "Thank you for the meal, thank you for your help. If you need me...for anything...call on me." He bows, nearly 90 degrees, low and respectful for a Japanese gentleman, "Arigato Sam-sensei."

Then with a hug and a smile, Ban vanished.

A few weeks later on the News

And in international news, rumours of an underworld war in Japan has been proven true, Yakuza groups have been in a state of war all across the nation for months now, a small yakuza clan called the Amagi Clan got into a fight with a southern yakuza clan, but recently the Amagi Clan and their sub families have been pushing back.

Correspondents across the nation say Yakuza groups are falling one by one due to a strike team lead by a man with a silver sword.

Yamaguchi-gumi spokesmen have been approached, as the largest and most influential Yakuza in the Nation they only commented that the situation is under control. People in the affected areas have said they feel safe despite regular fights in the streets.

We'll keep you in the news as things progress.

On to the weather...

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller) INTEREST CHECK

Ideas so far:

Short-King Earth Mage (Think Dwarf with a twist)
One Trick Only (knows one spell and only one spell)
Canadian Free Healthcare (hehe...hehehe....I can dip into my Healer Rage from all my MMOs)