Fat Boy Kyle

The Shadows of Aeios

Posted! I hope that wasn't too unrealistic.

The Shadows of Aeios

Calais Cousland
Near the loch west of Deliar

The three rangers continued to follow the tracks until a dim light could be seen in the distance. Words did not need to be exchanged, for they all knew it meant that the bandits that they were following had set up camp for the night and managed to set a fire. An impressive feat considering the weather. They continued to trot along quietly in that direction for a short while until they came across a dark trail in the snow. “Blood.” Wilson whispered having gotten off his horse to investigate further. Calais and Baldrick dismounted their horses as well whilst Wilson followed the blood into the nearby flora. “A body. Naked. Completely without possessions. Looks like he was robbed and killed. Gods know what the poor bastard was doing out here.” Wilson continued as he stepped back out of the flora.

“Fisherman maybe? We can’t be far from the loch now. Still, it’s a bit strange.” suggested Calais as he took a quick look for himself.

“Matters little I suppose.” Sighed Wilson before taking each of the horses reins and passing them to his apprentice, “Stay around here with the horses whilst we go take a closer look at these bandits. Is not that I lack your ability, it’s just we can’t afford to leave the horses unattended.”

Baldrick was clearly peeved by the order but did what he was bid without comment, leading the horses to the side and hitching them on a tree. Meanwhile Wilson and Calais quickly and quietly made their way towards the small fire. The two of them approached it from different angles, keeping a good deal of spacing between them. As Calais got within close sight of the fire he could see various figures huddled around it and the odd sleeping body just beyond. He crept incredibly slowly to a point that would have been almost painful to many, and even so ensured that he stayed behind cover as much as he could; if he could see them they could potentially see him. This continued until he was but metres away and sat with his back to a tree where he could hear their voices with almost crystal clarity.

“Fuckin’ gob shite! You-ve l-led us to a f-fucking icy grave! Ya said we’d be in D-Deliar by now.” complained one of them, clearly suffering the cold.

“Twas you that fucked up our plans! If you’d not been so careless at that farm, if you’d kept your manhood sheathed, we could have taken the roads. No one would have made us for deserters, no while there ten of us.” replied a gruffer yet clearly not quite so gutter-born voice. Perhaps their leader? thought Calais. Slowly he began to tilt his head round the tree so he could take a glance, but quickly drew it back when he heard a scuffling from behind.

“What the fuck was that?!” came the gruff voice again along with the sound of men quickly clambering to their feet. There was a moment of silence before an all too familiar twang revealed the firing of a bow. A thud followed quickly and it was clear one of the bandits had been struck. Calais’ heart begun racing but he tried to remain calm and still, anxious that his breathing might give him away. Another twang followed from the same direction, and then another from the completely opposite direction. Two more thuds followed. By this point the bandits shock wore off and suddenly shouts and the ringing of metal swords filled the air. Calais took an arrow and quickly drew his bow whilst not moving from his seated position. Three men ran straight past him, close enough for him to have been able to reach out and touch them. They ran in the direction of what he assumed to be Baldrick. He waited a couple of seconds before firing a shot at the last mans back, causing him to cry out. The man just before him stopped quickly and turned almost instantly towards Calais, who had already begun to draw his next arrow. The man was clearly as terrified as he was angry and he charged at Calais with a wild scream, getting only feet away before Calais fired the well aimed (if not very late) arrow through the man’s neck, causing him to lose his footing and fall to his side before clutching desperately at his throat.

“Son of a bitch!” came an almost deafening shout from Calais’ side, prompting him to try roll away and by some feat of luck happen to dodge a sword swing which became lodged in the tree. Calais cursed under his breath as he frantically tried to crawl away from his attacker, not quite able to find his footing in the snow. Knowing that the bow was next to useless now, he threw it to his side and rolled over to face the attacker as he fumbled for his saxe knife. By the time Calais unsheathed his small blade the furious attacker had managed to yank his sword free and now lunged towards his target, stabbing the blade down towards Calais’ stomach. With a slight roll and a slight deflection with his dagger Calais managed to divert the course of the sword but it still managed to slightly clip his side causing him to cry out. However, whilst the attacker was bent over with his hand on his hilt he was left vulnerable to the saxe knife which repeatedly stabbed at his neck and face, causing blood to leak out all over Calais before his whole body dropped on top of him.

Less than a minute passed as he lay there but for him it felt like hours. Eventually the familiar face of Wilson towered above as he yanked the corpse off his friend. “Shit. You alright lad? Things got a bit choppy there. You’re not hurt are you?” said the old man as he tried to distinguish what blood belonged to whom.

Calais nodded and placed his hand over the wound, “Bastard clipped my side.”

Wilson helped him up and led him to the fire where he could see more clearly. Quickly removing the layers that covered the wound he make an assessment, “Luckily your cuirass took some of the blow, but not much. He still took a few mil out of your side. No vitals though, so you’ll be fine. We just need to stop the bleeding… which is probably gonna hurt a lot more than the wound did”

Calais didn’t get a chance to respond as a piece of leather was shoved into his mouth. He went to remove it but suddenly he found his arms pinned down by Baldrick who had been otherwise quiet. Calais felt a horrible deep sinking in his stomach as he noticed Wilson heating his saxe knife on the fire. Rather than try fight it he simply looked away and did his best not to show weakness. At first he felt nothing, but quickly the terrible burning sensation came to him as Wilson cauterized the wound. He shook in pain for a moment before passing out.

Sanctuary

I think we've officially reached the point at which the last version of this RP died. Damn good post nevertheless Sage! :P

Sanctuary

Collabs posted! Sorry if it's a bit long and conversation heavy!

Sanctuary

Collab between Kyle and Godfather
Vates and Mathias - Tuborg Heights

Vates stood at his large desk within his hidden vault. Laid out before him was an old plan of the city, one which contained dozens of scribbles and markings compiled from both information he already had as well as information he had gained over the last year. Mostly it contained little notes such as "cache here" or "so and so's base", but these notes went mostly unappreciated as he only ventured around his little district and had long learnt his way around without having to review the map. Now though he examined the various markings and tried to work out how the war would proceed. To the north was the heavy military presence, and likely a target for the Golden Mercs; even if it wasn't the site of their goals they would likely attack it to cause a distraction at least. Also to the North was their old base, long abandoned by them as far as he knew. His last information regarding them placed them somewhere to the far east of the city. He looked then to Itkomi's base almost due west of him (not knowing that he'd moved); Itkomi was a big player but he had no idea whether he would team up with the Mercs. Then again, Iktomi was as smart if not smarter than Vates and would probably come to the same realisation that unless the Mercs won there would be hell to pay. He looked to other groups to like the market gang and such, and towards the chaos zones like the middle of the city and the south-west but they were too hard to judge. "In that case I better pay Iktomi a visit and find out exactly what he plans to do and whether he can shed any light on the situation."

Knowing that he might not get the chance to come back Vates assembled some gear in a rucksack and filled his pockets. Food and water mostly, but also some rolled up maps and odd pieces of scribbled down information he though might come in handy. He also grabbed two butterfly swords which he wore on a belt holster beneath his jacket. Having got all this he made his way upstairs and sat on the couch as he begun to replace the cores in his gauntlets. It only took a matter of minutes and just as Vates finished a sudden thud reverberated off the walls and a myriad of vile curses echoed around the apartment causing him to jump up and look around.

On the floor before of the elevator shaft, coughing and panting, Mathias lay in an exhausted pile. "I'm getting to old for this." admitted the middle-aged mafioso.

Vates walked over to intruder cautiously with his kinetic gauntlet at the ready, tilting his head slightly as he spoke "And who are you exactly?"

"Don't mind me, lovely apartment you've got here! You'd hardly know that Hell had opened up just a few roads away." Mathias rose to his feet and strolled over to the ornate oak desk, as the slump himself on the leather armchair he withdrew a cigar and began to fill the room with thick white smoke.

As the intruder rose and his face became visible Vates recognised him almost instantaneously. "Mathias Winters" he said inwardly as he watched the man stroll carelessly past.

"An old friend of yours Edward?" asked Janus.

"Not exactly. I thought he was dead. Remember I told you about Sierra? That I sold her some information about a target before the event? Well he was the target." replied Vates inwardly as he walked over towards his guest. "Mr Winters isn't it?" he asked confidently taking a seat of his own.

"My, my. Quite an observant chap aren't you. Mathias Winters, that's correct, you on the other hand are Mr Edward Vates are you not?" He stretched out his hand to shake his hosts.

Vates put on a smile and hesitated for a moment before stretching out his own hand. For the first time in a long while he felt like he was back on the job. "I'm surprised you know my name. I'm even more surprised that you know where I live. I'm assuming you've not stumbled across me by mere chance?"

"No Edward, No ive been looking for you for some time now." Mathias wished he could lengthen the charade he had begun, but realised that when dealing with an broker, honesty was the best policy. "I know very little about you actually, it took months to even find a mention of your name, very impressive indeed. But tell me, simply out of curiosity...how much do you know of me?"

Vates genuinely smiled at that. "Well now, that sounds like an information request. Tell you what, how about we both share? You ask a question, then I ask a question? We'll tell each other a little bit at a time. To begin with, I know that prior to the event that you were the head of a formidable little business, correct?" Vates knew he was perhaps treading a fine line, but he wasn't going to dish out information without getting something in return. And whilst he had an idea why Mathias was there, he couldn't be sure.

Mathias nodded "Correct. The Winters family has found many new and...questionable members in the last few decades. Who asked you to make a file on me?"

"No one." Replied Vates honestly although he knew what Mathias really wanted to hear, "I'm an information broker Mr. Winters. I collect any and all information. Given the nature of my business I've always thought it a good idea to have a stockpile of information about any criminal enterprise. I'm aware the brokers you are used to dealing with work on a much more... by demand basis, but not myself. Now then, my turn. From where or whom did you acquire my location?"

"I have a friend, granted he isnt as well connected as yourself and admittedly if we had been in the old Sovereign then we could never have found you. But these aren't old times Mr Vates and someone who causes quite a stir, as you have done, never goes unnoticed." Taking a deeper inhaling of his cigar he pondered for a second before continuing "Who gunned me down?" He had waited months to ask that question, he could feel in his every fibers that he was so close to the truth

Vates lent back in his seat. He didn't know who exactly had gunned him down (he didn't even know he had actually been gunned down), although he had presumed Sierra would have. "Well, it was the military who put a price out on your head. Not surprising really given your choice of career. It was a big bounty and I know there was quite a few assassins that probably would have jumped on the chance to claim the winnings. As for who actually pulled the trigger, if that's what you're asking, I wouldn't know... not without having a dig around." Vates was careful to add the last part as he wanted to ensure his guest had a reason to not try kill him, "What is the name of your friend?"

Mathias sat silently, this was not the answer he had hoped for. By nature he would have overturned the table, grabbed his host by the lapels and thrown him across the room. Instead he resolved to continue the game of questions. "That would be Iktomi Ascher, it seems we have both allied ourselves with the same arachnid."

Vates' expression dropped at the name. It appeared that Itkomi was not quite the ally he thought he was... not that he ever really trusted him anyway. "One that I clearly cannot trust. I doubt you could afford to either." muttered Vates as he pulled out a pen and paper and begun writing, "I'm writing you a list of names Mr. Winters. They are: Fergus 'The Axe' Andrews; The Shadow; Robert Schneider; Luke Bosworth; Sierra 'Smith'; Tywin 'Smith'; and April Grouse. These are the names or rather the aliases of assassins that I believe would have been likely to try take you out."

"...Thank you." Mathias looked down and saw pure vengeance sprawled in ink over the paper before him. "I see your leaving." He noted, looking past Vates toward the pile of provisions. "Do you have somewhere to stay?"

"I'm sure you heard that little broadcast earlier? I'm off to find some answers." he replied as he tried to remember where Mathias lived. The image of a mansion suddenly flooded his mind and he replayed a vision he had witnessed days ago of the same mansion frozen over. "If you tell me where I could find you maybe I could share what I learn?"

"A mansion over to the north-east, the same as before. And ah yes the broadcast, tell me Mr Vates, what exactly do you think will happen when the cage door opens, when the glass prison shatters, when the walls fall down, hm? The animals will go berserk! The army will halt escapes, the Mercs will retaliate, but the biggest problem of all are those caught in the crossfire. I don't know if you've noticed Edward, but this city no longer has civilians, it is inhabited by beasts, and when beasts are threatened, they rise up... This is no time to escape, this is the time to defend what is left."

"Right..." Vates replied, slightly lost on the point, "I cannot hazard to guess what will happen if the wall comes down. But I doubt it will even get that far. The 'beasts' as you called them might gather to the side of the Golden Mercs, but imagine that even if they don't kill each other first that they won't beat the military. If there was a time for alliances, now would be it."

"Alliances...you don't seem to have many strong alliances yourself Edward. I think you'd make a perfect addition to the Winters clan, what do you say?" Mathias looked his host in the eye. It was true Vates was a much needed gear in the intricate mechanics of Mathias' plan, everything had to be perfect, Vates had to take his side.

With a slow shake of his head Vates declined the offer, "Thank you Mr. Winters, I appreciate the offer. It's nothing personal, it just well... I've never liked the idea of having a boss. Now if you excuse me I really have to get going before this war kicks off."

Mathias nodded, disappointingly he rose from the chair and walked toward the elevator shaft, peering down into the darkness a thought swept across his mind "There was one more thing Mr Vates...That creature a few flaws down...Whats the story?"

"Long" sighed Vates as he picked up his rucksack and headed for the shaft himself.

Sanctuary

Vates
Janus was right, Vates hated his idea. “You better be on the ball then Janus.” warned Vates inwardly. Slowly Vates rolled over and took up a pre-sprint position, taking care not to make any sudden movements. Vates slowly checked his pockets to ensure he hadn’t dropped anything. Glasses, check. Energy bar, check. A couple of swipe cards, check. A photo of his family, check. He shut his eyes for a moment as he drew a deep breath and suddenly with a big push off his front leg he burst forward into a sprint across the roof.

“Over there!” came the shout of a nearby soldier, spotting the runner almost immediately. The soldier quickly started waving his arm in the direction of the target, causing the other soldiers to take off after him and causing the sharpshooters to quickly take aim. Vates was running as fast as he could when eyes blinked white, the quick glancing vision causing him to jump to his right and narrowly dodge a plasma bullet. However as he struggled to keep decent footing he found himself stumbling straight into a wall, his held up palms barely saving him from hitting it face first. He turned then towards the oncoming soldiers just as he had another glancing vision, causing him to roll off the wall and back onto his intended path as he dodged yet another bullet. “Shit! He’s a fucking host!” yelled the same soldier from before.

Vates continued to run but couldn’t help but be shocked at the soldier’s words. “How did he know I was a host?” he found himself asking, still unaware of the glowing white eye affect that his powers came with. He wasn’t going to stop and ask however. He reached the end of the current rooftop and made the relatively small leap down to the next one, thankful that the marksmen were not able to fire off any more shots before he’d escaped their vision; he could already feel the strains of mental fatigue from the two visions. He was far from in the clear though, for five or so soldiers still chased after him. Wanting to get off of the roof top Vates made off towards the left of the current roof where another building towered over and made a jump for one of the windows. Not wanting to risk getting snagged on any remaining shards of glass, he let out a kinetic blast mid jump. Whilst he made the jump his landing was far from perfect for his foot clipped the ledge and he found himself falling shoulder first onto the floor, earning himself a couple of cuts where some tiny glass fragments were able to pierce his clothing.

“Mike Six! This is Foxtrot Two! Target has found his way into the large office building! Target is a confirmed host! Please send back-up!” the voice was faint but Vates could still hear it from inside. Not affording the time to sit and catch his breath, he quickly climbed to his feet and continued running but as he did so two soldiers came through the window after him. The first one luckily did exactly the same as Vates and fell face first as his foot caught the windows ledge. The second one however was much more agile and continued after his target without pause. The office building was a typical one with long running corridors and large rooms with dozens of little worker booths, although of course much of it was in disrepair. Not confident that he could outrun his pursuer down a straight corridor, Vates weaved in and out of the little booths going round corners sharply as he heard the pursuer close the gap. Each time he made sure not to take a corner that would lead back on himself towards the other soldiers that had by now also made the jump. Spotting a chance to open the gap, Vates darted quickly into one of the booths and running up the chair and over the desk he jumped over the entire column of booths. He heard his pursuer curse at the manoeuvre.

“To your left Edward! Head to the stairs!” Janus practically yelled inside. Vates took the advice, barging through the door and leaping down two flights of stairs, practically bouncing off the walls as he made each turn. As he exited the stairs he heard the soldiers enter them and hoped that they wouldn’t know how many flights down he’d gone. Turning a couple of corners Vates quickly paused as he tried to decide whether to hide or whether to keep running. He managed to catch his breath a little before he heard voices from the stairs get louder and his mind was made up for him. Run. Taking back off into a sprint Vates headed towards the far side where there was once a window wall, and beyond an alley with a width of about five metres was another building. There was no way he could reach the opposite room, but perhaps he might land a floor or two below. Ensuring he reached peak speed Vates leaped out of the window and found that the time felt as if it had slowed down. His limbs appeared to continue running as if it would somehow help him reach the other side. He felt a horrible sinking feeling deep within his belly as he begun to fall, and it reached up into his throat like a clot. He fell into the window two floors down at a worryingly sharp angle; had the alley been slightly longer he may have missed the building altogether. He landed on bent knees and went into a roll, saving him from any fractures. Crawling quickly behind a desk to shelter him from view Vates sat there and got his breath back. His little stunt, stupid as it might have been, just earned him two or three stories and a buildings worth of space between him and his attackers. He must have sat there for about four minutes before sneaking off and making his way back home. Fortunately he saw no more of the soldiers and left long before any reinforcements arrived.

---

Having spent hours getting back and due to both physical and mental exhaustion, Vates slept in through the whole next morning and woke up in the early afternoon. Even given the events of the previous day it was still far more sleep than Vates liked and he cursed himself as he quickly stumbled out of bed and made for his rooftop terrace. It was not unusual for him to do this, for it gave him a good view and often he had woken up to see signs of destruction in the distance from the night before; be it military raids or just another building finally losing its lasts legs. As he lent on the side rail of the roof he looked out over the all too familiar sight, “Hello world” he said with mock enthusiasm.

“Hello, Sovereign” replied a smooth voice from behind him. Vates stood completely still for a moment.

“Hello?” Vates repeated as he slowly turned to see no-one there. His face was the picture of confusion and he pondered whether or not he was going mad.

“This is Victor Esteves, captain of the Golden Mercenaries and I am here to speak to you - the people of Sovereign. I am here to tell you that there is still hope, that there is still a strong chance that you will get to see your beautiful families yet again.” Came the voice again, but now Vates knew its source: a speaker on the corner of the roof. He had always hated it and before the event he even used a little device to stop it playing; however he had long removed the device for another purpose and was surprised the speaker even worked. He listened intently as Victors message echoed throughout the city and a choir of murmurs and cheers filled the concrete jungle with a tiny bit of ambient noise, as if the city was returning to life. Vates however did not share the happiness and hopes that many now harboured.

“Fuck. Fuck!” he hissed as he grabbed a glass and threw it towards the speaker, “That stupid son of a bitch! Whether he realises or not, he has sentenced everyone to death.”

“I do not understand Edward. Should you not be happy? We can finally break free of this prison. You can return to your family.” asked Janus, often misreading his hosts complex string of thoughts.

Vates ran indoors and headed towards his vault as he explained himself, “Even if most of the city bands together, I doubt they will stand a chance against the military. More likely the survivors will be killed off by each other, you know how Onikages are! If they attack the military and they lose the military won’t just recover and continue like usual will they? They’ll take much more extreme measures. They’ll probably decide to level the city or kill off all the survivors, even those who chose not to fight. Whether those Golden Mercenaries meant to or not, they’ve given an ultimatum to everyone in the city: win or die.”

The Demon Within

IBS?

The Shadows of Aeios

Calais Cousland
Near the loch west of Deliar

Calais along with the other two rangers, Wilson and Baldrick, left the vineyard later that day after ensuring that they each had full stomachs, some supplies and that their horses had gotten at least a bit of rest. They were of course eager to catch up with the bandits that Calais had been scouting, and so rode long and hard through the morning and through the evening. Given where the bandits were last spotted and the rough direction in which they were heading, the rangers were able to guess the route they would have taken for there were only a couple of old trails that they were likely to have followed. Wilson spotted their tracks not long before the sun went down and so they stopped to discuss their next course of action. “We’re fortunate to have such a keen eye in our midst” commented Calais causing the older ranger to smile.

“You’re too kind brother.” Wilson replied as he studied the tracks, “It looks like you were right, they are heading towards the loch. Unless they’ve taken to the woods, they have missed the trails that would have led em’ to Deliar. Given that the snows not yet completely covered these tracks I would guess that we’re only a short distance behind them.”

Baldrick beamed at that, “Then if we’re quick we can bring the rot to justice before the night grows too dark!”

“Are you really so fucking stupid?” hissed Calais, “We’re not here to take them out. We’re simply following them and ensuring that they don’t cause further harm. Once we have a better idea of what these bastards are up to we can get the local guards on them.”

Baldrick was gobsmacked at what he heard, “But we’re rangers! Not cowards! It’s our duty to kill this scum!”

Wilson turned to his apprentice, empathetic to his words. “Our duty is to keep the peace. Not to kill everyone we take a disliking to. Calais is right lad. Besides, there are ten of them and three of us. Even if we all fired straight and our arrows found their marks we would be lucky if each of us took down two men before we would be forced into a melee, at which point we would still be outnumbered. If they are deserters it means that they are trained and maybe have some battle experience; they may be wise enough to find cover from our fire and will likely destroy us in close combat. Now then, let’s get going before we lose them”

The Demon Within

I'm stuck waiting for my driver to reply to my PM :P

Also: My guy's a GYM teacher, so the screen thing might no make sense for him?