FourtyTwo Member
STATUS: 10+ years of an RP idea, finally finished, on 10.10.2025. Goodnight Raven Squad, you were the best, wildest, most silly near future SOF RP that lived on the guild, and you got a worthy send off :) 10 mos ago
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10+ years of an RP idea, finally finished, on 10.10.2025. Goodnight Raven Squad, you were the best, wildest, most silly near future SOF RP that lived on the guild, and you got a worthy send off :)
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Bio
I've RP'd for the best part of over 15 years now here on the Guild, and particularly like military settings, both contemporary, past and near future. I have even dabbled in a little more experimental RPs, as well as created a plethora of 1x1s over my time in the guild. I like creating RPs with a distinct flavour- and often shift between narrative-led RPs to semi-randomised plots. I've been more a GM lately than a player, and don't really lean into fandom- instead, exploring my own universes lifting themes from other source material.
My main interests are military-themed, near-future RPs, with a focus on technology. But I'm beginning to push what that RP idea looks like- taking inspiration from lots of media and focussing on the fun, indulgent side of RP, whilst also exploring the lows and emotional side.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/190121-rav…
Raven Squad is a project over seven years in the making, and focusses on a class-based, eccentric yet half-grounded near future special forces team that acts as a response team where you can't send any special forces team in. It's incredibly dumb, incredibly loose, and yet, has delivered some of my favourite plot points in RPG. A brainless action flick a la John Wick and Kingsman meets a complex thriller with a fun left turn in it, Raven has been the culmination of over a decade of loving special forces RPG, gaming influences and other silliness in a package that has provided players with something quite different to a normal military themed RPG. While at an end, this is an RP that is a signature- it's silly as hell, takes itself barely seriously, and is what peak fun military RPG to me should be.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/192916-del…
Delta Hyper is a love letter to Wipeout, F1's Drive to Survive (Netflix) and contemporary Formula One, with influences from solarpunk, cyberpunk, transhumanism and other posthumanist concepts. An RP that follows pilots in their ups and downs, it's a story that hasn't got me playing an actual character, but framing the camera at each pilot (played by others), and presenting it as if it were a documentary. Lifting elements from TTRPG, this is a Racing RPG like no other and no parallel exists- using dice rolls and randomisation, with a stats-driven system to generate race results, rather than actually RPing the races, players experience the fast-paced, dynamic world of anti-gravity racing. This means that come Qualifying and Race, the results are genuinely a surprise to everyone- and based on decisions made through dilemmas and decisions made between races. Friendships, rivalry, the glamour and even a little political undertone play out in 2094, in a colourful, utopian future that focuses on the fight to take first place.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/196931-tac…
Then there's Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex. First use of any set IP as a formal setting, this is an RP that offers a darker mirror to Raven Squad, focussing on the other side of the equation- unlikely heroes in an uncomfortable position. I don't normally do fantasy, but the world, the lore, the feeling of the characters and the ability to write a comedy just was too difficult to pass up. An RP that focuses on a group running away from a variety of threats as wanted mercenary wizards in the middle of a post-revolution, Eastern-Europe adjacent 1990s to present Polavia.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/197399-dis…
Lastly, Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont. This is another IP-adjacent world, albeit drawing on a different setting and a new cast of superheroes. As my "first" proper superhero RP, this combines workplace comedy, a Storyteller-lite system and a fun, diverse, and large cast together in a dynamic, diverse setting.
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy. I aim to clear posts within a week!
My main interests are military-themed, near-future RPs, with a focus on technology. But I'm beginning to push what that RP idea looks like- taking inspiration from lots of media and focussing on the fun, indulgent side of RP, whilst also exploring the lows and emotional side.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/190121-rav…
Raven Squad is a project over seven years in the making, and focusses on a class-based, eccentric yet half-grounded near future special forces team that acts as a response team where you can't send any special forces team in. It's incredibly dumb, incredibly loose, and yet, has delivered some of my favourite plot points in RPG. A brainless action flick a la John Wick and Kingsman meets a complex thriller with a fun left turn in it, Raven has been the culmination of over a decade of loving special forces RPG, gaming influences and other silliness in a package that has provided players with something quite different to a normal military themed RPG. While at an end, this is an RP that is a signature- it's silly as hell, takes itself barely seriously, and is what peak fun military RPG to me should be.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/192916-del…
Delta Hyper is a love letter to Wipeout, F1's Drive to Survive (Netflix) and contemporary Formula One, with influences from solarpunk, cyberpunk, transhumanism and other posthumanist concepts. An RP that follows pilots in their ups and downs, it's a story that hasn't got me playing an actual character, but framing the camera at each pilot (played by others), and presenting it as if it were a documentary. Lifting elements from TTRPG, this is a Racing RPG like no other and no parallel exists- using dice rolls and randomisation, with a stats-driven system to generate race results, rather than actually RPing the races, players experience the fast-paced, dynamic world of anti-gravity racing. This means that come Qualifying and Race, the results are genuinely a surprise to everyone- and based on decisions made through dilemmas and decisions made between races. Friendships, rivalry, the glamour and even a little political undertone play out in 2094, in a colourful, utopian future that focuses on the fight to take first place.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/196931-tac…
Then there's Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex. First use of any set IP as a formal setting, this is an RP that offers a darker mirror to Raven Squad, focussing on the other side of the equation- unlikely heroes in an uncomfortable position. I don't normally do fantasy, but the world, the lore, the feeling of the characters and the ability to write a comedy just was too difficult to pass up. An RP that focuses on a group running away from a variety of threats as wanted mercenary wizards in the middle of a post-revolution, Eastern-Europe adjacent 1990s to present Polavia.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/197399-dis…
Lastly, Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont. This is another IP-adjacent world, albeit drawing on a different setting and a new cast of superheroes. As my "first" proper superhero RP, this combines workplace comedy, a Storyteller-lite system and a fun, diverse, and large cast together in a dynamic, diverse setting.
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy. I aim to clear posts within a week!
Most Recent Posts
I did a weird thing in mine. I actually started with Jan and the 1st Squad looking over the anarchy of Lublin, then throwing back to how it all kinda came to that. Also, Hover Quads. I thought Hoverbikes were overdone, so essentially, it's more quadbike like (four smaller thrusters) just because.
Jan looked over, the radio cackling, as suddenly, a new transmission beckoned. It was Irish, deep Irish. He chuckled, looking to the rest, adjusting the resonance.
"This is WO Adamowicz from 1st Squad, Blyskawica Reconnaissance Company, speaking to all Aegis reconnaissance elements that are touching down. The Polish forces in Lublin do not exist any more- we've lost the town. The Strzelcy Podhalancy lost the line in the South East, the reservists got cut up within the town but managed to safely evac and remaining civilians. We are at a safe location to the North-West of the town, at a reconnaissance point marked Zulu Bravo. If you have a HUD system, I've pinged it to your secure frequency, you should see it. IFF tone will ping back with six times Wilk 1A2s." He said simply standing, his visor zooming in as he made out a figure through the focus that he got in one the eyes- this visor being an advanced optical package that was designed to give the recon operator less holding binoculars and rather, adjusting an optical camera instead to gain a focus. Connor's thermal outline wasn't sharp, but he was keeping out of the open it seemed.
"Holy shit. Connor, I see you, you're in a bad part of town. You might have some fun out there, just stay frosty. I'd not go in any deeper into town, stick to the edges and move towards us- the ping should be fully through now on our hill. We have an OPFOR of Green Men...essentially, Spetsnaz GRU, VDV and Vympel in militia equipment here. Some militants, but they number one to every two Russian undercover soldier. We saw a limited deployment of actual fucking VDV in the town, but we believe now it was part of the shock effort, not a widespread deployment. Move quickly, my friend- I think I see another friendly." He said, looking up, the sight of the drop, and the visor picking up the friendly NATO IFF tone.
"SSgt Hausler, your drop zone's vectoring close on Connor's, on the edge of the town. We will continue to hold our location- if you need firepower, we can paint targets for orbital munitions if you're in a tight spot. We'll carry on observing- it's about a few klicks to us, but you'll make it." He added, looking to the rest of his men, and the two women that were in the team. Malinka put her visor up, sitting down, checking magazines as she looked at the fire and bloodshed in the distance. The others were keeping an eye out on the flanks of the observation post, waiting for the next set of movers to push up.
"I have family in Rzeszow." She simply said, as Jan looked over, Magda "Malinka" Malinowska, her nickname in English being "Raspberry", his 2IC just sit there in some sort of static thought. Rzeszow had been the first town captured, and felt like it was now on another planet. Some signs were pointing to it. It was captured, simply another concession. Like Lublin.
"Did they get out? I mean...they were the first hit." Jan said, looking out on the fire, keeping tabs on his radio. The reason they weren't moving themselves right now was because it would be too risky, to comprimise their observation- the two fireteams of Duda/Bogdanowicz, and Wojczechski/Majakowska were keeping tabs on the movement of armor and troops from this hill in the general area, this place being a key outpost to spy and watch from afar on the enemies- and Jan doubted that Malinka would want to risk rushing across the hedged plain. Their suits were not invisible, but they were well thermally camoflaged, and it'd take a specialized operator to pick out there was much heat at all from the uniforms and suit, though it wasn't entirely perfect. NV or visible spectrum would be the easiest way to find them, but the team was well versed in hiding, and staying in the shadows from afar for extended periods of time. So for now, they had a good position, and could hold for a while.
The silence was long, until she added something.
"No...not sure what's happened."
"Mine's in Bialystok. There are forces there too. No contact home." Jan said, exhaling, as he stood, plonking his tactical visor back down, essentially a black visor that sealed up the helmet and brought about a HUD, as well as other tools useful for a recon unit. He knew they had a long fight ahead of them, as they waited, hanging on the hill and getting stock. They were here for the long term, and no situation was worse than this. The radio buzzed.
"Adamczyk, you copy?" He heard it buzz right in his ear, and he stood, looking over, Leszek's voice in his head.
"Abandon the reconnaissance post. We've got the footage and the map overlay done, the friendly teams are working on it- and we have Aegis coming in.. Get the other friendly reconnaissance units and head towards Marker Tango on the Hover Quads. You might need to ride through fire, and from there, ditch them. There is a small unguarded command post filled with Anti-Mech launchers recently delivered by a group of VDV, mainly Green Men but we think that the CSTO are giving them a little something. We need you to eliiminate. Afterward, fall back to your reconnaissance point and go quiet. Those two individuals will bolster your team- they have some serious kit, so I would hustle." Leszek said, as Jan nodded, again, into thin air for some Godforsaken reason. To himself to confirm, perhaps.
"Understood. We'll call out when we're at Tango, I see it's a stream of sorts, AMW (Anti Mech Weapon) post is about 600m away if the GPS on this thing is still good." He simply replied, as he knew the rest knew exactly what was going on.
"Are we about to ride into that?" Malinka asked, as Jan chuckled, just somehow wanting to not let this go to head.
"I can't believe it either, but somehow..this is ridiculous enough to work." He added, as the team regrouped at the stash point, where their equipment and the Hover Quads had been located.
The noise of thrumming rushed over the hill, as the six rushed out, moving through the fields and hedgerows, trying to keep out of sight from the main routes as best as possible. They had avoided the most of the enemy vanguard- the advance had perhaps stalled, as they got into town, and searched and raided the area.
"Alec, Amy, it's Jan. We're on the move, we've got the Hover Quads going. Look for us moving. I'll send Malinka to get you Alec- Amy, you ride with me. We have new objectives on an enemy Anti-Mech emplacement, and the opportunity to find some intelligence- before the rest of your unit drops, it could give us the edge. Keep your eyes peeled." He called out, as the Hover Quad lept over a hedgerow, the thing taking air as bullets flew past, Jan diving the thing into a hedgerow's cover, before the rest of the team regrouped and continued on. 500m to the two. The Hover Quads weren't loud, but they moved with a pace that over this terrain, even a regular wheeled quadbike or motorcycle would struggle to match without being suicidal. Leaping another gate, Jan braked hard and turned, looking down at the female medic, a visor covering her face and a M27 in her hands. Malinka herself saw Alec a little further along, closer towards the town, moving with a serious pace towards an old apartment block. They'd regroup in time- Malinka just wanted to get him out of that area, and back with the others.
"Up you get- you're riding shotgun. Welcome to Polska, home of the best and the original Vodka of the world, Pierogi, cultural heritage and now, people who want to murder us." Malinka said to Alec, smirking somewhat as she checked her MSBS LMG, the weapon mounted in a cradle on the windshield, magazine inside. Jan offered a hand to Amy back at the farm, just smirking himself at Malinka's comment.
"Soon to be cleared of people who murder us. That's SSgt Magda Malinowska, or just Malinka for short. Don't mind my 2IC." He said, aware that even in this situation, he had to somewhat keep spirits going, and to these new NATO boots on the ground, Alec and Amy, who had respectively dropped out of the fucking low earth orbit with a re-entry suit and a drop pod, this was something that perhaps would lift their spirits too. They had work to do, the dawn was coming and they had the right time and place to strike enemy. While Lublin was overwhelmed, perhaps now it was time to fight. Time to get back.
"This is WO Adamowicz from 1st Squad, Blyskawica Reconnaissance Company, speaking to all Aegis reconnaissance elements that are touching down. The Polish forces in Lublin do not exist any more- we've lost the town. The Strzelcy Podhalancy lost the line in the South East, the reservists got cut up within the town but managed to safely evac and remaining civilians. We are at a safe location to the North-West of the town, at a reconnaissance point marked Zulu Bravo. If you have a HUD system, I've pinged it to your secure frequency, you should see it. IFF tone will ping back with six times Wilk 1A2s." He said simply standing, his visor zooming in as he made out a figure through the focus that he got in one the eyes- this visor being an advanced optical package that was designed to give the recon operator less holding binoculars and rather, adjusting an optical camera instead to gain a focus. Connor's thermal outline wasn't sharp, but he was keeping out of the open it seemed.
"Holy shit. Connor, I see you, you're in a bad part of town. You might have some fun out there, just stay frosty. I'd not go in any deeper into town, stick to the edges and move towards us- the ping should be fully through now on our hill. We have an OPFOR of Green Men...essentially, Spetsnaz GRU, VDV and Vympel in militia equipment here. Some militants, but they number one to every two Russian undercover soldier. We saw a limited deployment of actual fucking VDV in the town, but we believe now it was part of the shock effort, not a widespread deployment. Move quickly, my friend- I think I see another friendly." He said, looking up, the sight of the drop, and the visor picking up the friendly NATO IFF tone.
"SSgt Hausler, your drop zone's vectoring close on Connor's, on the edge of the town. We will continue to hold our location- if you need firepower, we can paint targets for orbital munitions if you're in a tight spot. We'll carry on observing- it's about a few klicks to us, but you'll make it." He added, looking to the rest of his men, and the two women that were in the team. Malinka put her visor up, sitting down, checking magazines as she looked at the fire and bloodshed in the distance. The others were keeping an eye out on the flanks of the observation post, waiting for the next set of movers to push up.
"I have family in Rzeszow." She simply said, as Jan looked over, Magda "Malinka" Malinowska, her nickname in English being "Raspberry", his 2IC just sit there in some sort of static thought. Rzeszow had been the first town captured, and felt like it was now on another planet. Some signs were pointing to it. It was captured, simply another concession. Like Lublin.
"Did they get out? I mean...they were the first hit." Jan said, looking out on the fire, keeping tabs on his radio. The reason they weren't moving themselves right now was because it would be too risky, to comprimise their observation- the two fireteams of Duda/Bogdanowicz, and Wojczechski/Majakowska were keeping tabs on the movement of armor and troops from this hill in the general area, this place being a key outpost to spy and watch from afar on the enemies- and Jan doubted that Malinka would want to risk rushing across the hedged plain. Their suits were not invisible, but they were well thermally camoflaged, and it'd take a specialized operator to pick out there was much heat at all from the uniforms and suit, though it wasn't entirely perfect. NV or visible spectrum would be the easiest way to find them, but the team was well versed in hiding, and staying in the shadows from afar for extended periods of time. So for now, they had a good position, and could hold for a while.
The silence was long, until she added something.
"No...not sure what's happened."
"Mine's in Bialystok. There are forces there too. No contact home." Jan said, exhaling, as he stood, plonking his tactical visor back down, essentially a black visor that sealed up the helmet and brought about a HUD, as well as other tools useful for a recon unit. He knew they had a long fight ahead of them, as they waited, hanging on the hill and getting stock. They were here for the long term, and no situation was worse than this. The radio buzzed.
"Adamczyk, you copy?" He heard it buzz right in his ear, and he stood, looking over, Leszek's voice in his head.
"Abandon the reconnaissance post. We've got the footage and the map overlay done, the friendly teams are working on it- and we have Aegis coming in.. Get the other friendly reconnaissance units and head towards Marker Tango on the Hover Quads. You might need to ride through fire, and from there, ditch them. There is a small unguarded command post filled with Anti-Mech launchers recently delivered by a group of VDV, mainly Green Men but we think that the CSTO are giving them a little something. We need you to eliiminate. Afterward, fall back to your reconnaissance point and go quiet. Those two individuals will bolster your team- they have some serious kit, so I would hustle." Leszek said, as Jan nodded, again, into thin air for some Godforsaken reason. To himself to confirm, perhaps.
"Understood. We'll call out when we're at Tango, I see it's a stream of sorts, AMW (Anti Mech Weapon) post is about 600m away if the GPS on this thing is still good." He simply replied, as he knew the rest knew exactly what was going on.
"Are we about to ride into that?" Malinka asked, as Jan chuckled, just somehow wanting to not let this go to head.
"I can't believe it either, but somehow..this is ridiculous enough to work." He added, as the team regrouped at the stash point, where their equipment and the Hover Quads had been located.
The noise of thrumming rushed over the hill, as the six rushed out, moving through the fields and hedgerows, trying to keep out of sight from the main routes as best as possible. They had avoided the most of the enemy vanguard- the advance had perhaps stalled, as they got into town, and searched and raided the area.
"Alec, Amy, it's Jan. We're on the move, we've got the Hover Quads going. Look for us moving. I'll send Malinka to get you Alec- Amy, you ride with me. We have new objectives on an enemy Anti-Mech emplacement, and the opportunity to find some intelligence- before the rest of your unit drops, it could give us the edge. Keep your eyes peeled." He called out, as the Hover Quad lept over a hedgerow, the thing taking air as bullets flew past, Jan diving the thing into a hedgerow's cover, before the rest of the team regrouped and continued on. 500m to the two. The Hover Quads weren't loud, but they moved with a pace that over this terrain, even a regular wheeled quadbike or motorcycle would struggle to match without being suicidal. Leaping another gate, Jan braked hard and turned, looking down at the female medic, a visor covering her face and a M27 in her hands. Malinka herself saw Alec a little further along, closer towards the town, moving with a serious pace towards an old apartment block. They'd regroup in time- Malinka just wanted to get him out of that area, and back with the others.
"Up you get- you're riding shotgun. Welcome to Polska, home of the best and the original Vodka of the world, Pierogi, cultural heritage and now, people who want to murder us." Malinka said to Alec, smirking somewhat as she checked her MSBS LMG, the weapon mounted in a cradle on the windshield, magazine inside. Jan offered a hand to Amy back at the farm, just smirking himself at Malinka's comment.
"Soon to be cleared of people who murder us. That's SSgt Magda Malinowska, or just Malinka for short. Don't mind my 2IC." He said, aware that even in this situation, he had to somewhat keep spirits going, and to these new NATO boots on the ground, Alec and Amy, who had respectively dropped out of the fucking low earth orbit with a re-entry suit and a drop pod, this was something that perhaps would lift their spirits too. They had work to do, the dawn was coming and they had the right time and place to strike enemy. While Lublin was overwhelmed, perhaps now it was time to fight. Time to get back.
That's probably the best one- but Blyskawica is a part of Aegis, so the protocols are sort of there if you know what I mean in a way. Up to you.
Ah GG. They aren't rebels, I know it sounds weird to get hung up on, but pretty please, please ,please change it- it just confuses me a bit, and I mean, I absolutely don't want too offend but it kinda gripes me a bit. Apart from that, I think your post was pretty epic. I genuinely believe we have some great RPing going here- and the post I'm about to do is nowhere near as long, believe me. I feel like I'm posting a bit too much...ahh.
Avanhelsing said
No one knows where the polish are. The LZ Alec suggested is a klick from the town on the other side from the polish. *Shrug*I was having Alec wait to find them with the group.
Not a problem. They didn't expect reinforcements, but even so, I will post up a post that will basically be quite short, but form the linkages of Jan's team with yours.
Also, hang on- is the whole TF coming down? I thought the first orders were reconaissance, not the whole hog on Lublin? Correct me if I'm wrong here- just a bit confused.
Enalais said
He would follow his orders for TF Aegis first, then he would offer assistance to any Rebel groups out there, when working with rebels your kinda neutral but normally they have more intel about whats going on so you listen to them first, then command elements from orbit, so a general and his staff, and then anyone in the TF who is higher ranked
Remember- Blyskawica is a Aegis ground element, they're recon that wasn't deployed into orbit, missing by about a month. It explains why Jan and his team were so quick to respond- they went from their barrack to the war, and aren't a rebel unit. They are what I believe are "Loyalists" and while the rebels are refered to in Poland, in particular, you will see Jan and many Poles distinctly call them Russians or Green Men as an echoing call of the Crimean/Ukranian crisis. While things have gone to shit, it's CSTO instigated- and it isn't a popular uprising, or so I believe- it's just a group of rebels that in the shadows, have arised. Also, the Poles that Blyskawica's fighting wtih AREN'T rebels- and in fact, I'd say that in the situation that Connor would follow Jan, until his unit arrived. As I set out in the first post, around Lublin it's turned to anarchy, and the line in itself has actually collapsed. Best bet- I would pair up Amy with Connor, and from there, perhaps the recon element will develop out. Up to you.
Ah, I see. He'll see contacts though (or at least, it's likely) to meet the Polish team I guess, but I bet it will give your character the chance to kinda showcase what he's made of en-route to the Polish team.
Nice. Did he drop into the town or nearby? If he's still in the town....ohohohoh, now that is a bad place to be, but he can figure something out. In short, they got out to the countryside to basically scout a road, but it'd be interesting to see how he'll fight through to reach them- and realize that there is VDV, those pesky little green men and all sorts rolling through.
(The two mercs can either be real player characters, or not in the hotel. I am leaving this to the digression of PCs in this- I'd rather that they were generic mercenaries, but if you want your char to be one, go on ahead.)
(Also, this was a post partly written with Big's advice- it may explain why certain details could make sense.)
Arran had walked on, carried on. Nothing. A jeep went past, a few militants within. He looked at them, and they looked at him. They drove past. He knew they knew what he was. A mercenary. A white man, in a world where everyday people wanted freedom. And they did this in horrifying means. Means to an end. And for Arran...means to make money. He didn't care for it, it wasn't his worry what they were up to, but what he was going to do next.
After another half hour, at the break of dawn, he was in town. Shit was fucked here. Like the documentaries at home had showed, this was why poverty killed. The water was as safe as drinking his own piss, and he'd die from about two dozen tropical diseases, and countless STDs if he decided a local whore was his way of having fun. Not here. There were kids, six years old, checking and assembling Kalashnikov rifles. It sicked a part of his soul, as he walked through, aware he wasn't going to find something that would perhaps vindicate it all. He had to find a place to stay. He saw a small sign. Hotel. It had a bullet hole in it. Walking over towards it, the shacks and poor housing, the mud, shit and general excesses that didn't go into a sewage pipe from the slum leaking from filled ditches by his side, he saw something of a vague structure that looked like it had stood. It wasn't too close to the slum to be alien, but it was isolated enough not to be out of the ordinary. A good place to set up.
Walking in, Arran looked around the reception of the lodge, before pinging the bell. A recepionist ran in from the back room. This place looked shitty, but it would do, Arran thought to himself. It was a lodge of some sort, perhaps for backpackers. A young woman, no older than 20, walked up, smiling.
"Hi...I'm looking for a room, paying in American Currency. You good with that?" Arran said, rather a little sternly in his deep highlander Scots accent that sounded like it had sunk Longboats already.
"Yes of course, Sir." She simply said, writing something down, before taking out a key. Her accent was a strong African one, and she seemed a little tired, though formal and polite.
"There $10 deposit, it is $4 a night, Sir. This is a key for room 12, upstairs. Single Bed, there is a stove and any basic amenities. We prefer minerals, on manager's request." She added, noting something down, as he drew the note. He didn't have much- he didn't want a lot. The P226 would achieve a lot more- and cash wasn't going to be accepted everywhere. Places like this, maybe so. And he had enough to sustain. But guns, ammunition, supplies, he'd need minerals. Diamonds, Gold, Silver, Copper Wire would even fucking do if he bartered hard enough. For now, he wanted a roof over his head.
"No problem...minerals you say. How the fuck you are still open in this chaos?" He asked rather coldly, as she was taken aback a little.
"Sir, there are other mercenaries here. You are not alone; two checked in late last night.."
"Shite. Well, alright. Thank you." He replied, getting his answer, walking on, bergen still on back as he headed to his room.
It wasn't anything special, but what it was, was a place to at least lie his head. Think. This was freedom. Getting out the joint was great. It meant he had time to think, to enjoy this. And while it was in a humid shithole, the fact was that for the moment, things were calm here. Just. He checked the P226, his axe close by, and his stuff unpacked, but not entirely so in the case he had to move. He wanted to keep an eye open. Sleeping with one eye open may be a good idea. Now what, he thought to himself, trying to just think. Other mercenaries? There were two here, but he couldn't tell which rooms or where they were. Would they rob him? Probably not, because they didn't know he was here. He took his shirt off, and leaned back, aware the lock was on his door and the windows shut locked, just wanting to get a nap and think on it. Enjoy sleeping without yelling dickheads in a prison cell. It was too good.
Arran opened his eyes. the realization someone was here.
"The locks are shitty, my friend. Stay back." Arran jerked, realizing there was a handcuff to the bed frame, with one hand free as he tried to reach for his P226. The click of a Makarov could be heard, as Arran stopped, realizing what was going on. The shaven man walked over, crouching, pistol ready. He was out of reach, and besides, even with what Magnus knew, Arran was good at fucking people up, but not great. He knew a vague amount of him- not everything, but ex-SBS held out. The Swede spoke with a certain manner, like he wasn't going to be overtaken in tone.
"My name is Magnus. Now, I understand what predicament you are in. In fact, that document told me everything. I always keep an eye out. You just stumble into the one place where you are not pulled off the street and forced to work for your life. In fact, you played it good. It's just that document." He said, as Arran looked.
"And the fuck does that mean!?" Arran said, not shouting but avidly pissed, his Scots accent amusing Magnus, his own Swedish one being a deep and bellowing one that held steadfast in command of English.
"I draw dots that you and another mercenary were in on this. Because it so happens that about two mercenaries wonder into this country, two different methods, with that paper confirming all. You came for Scorpion."
"Who the fuck are you talking about? What mercenary?" Arran said, stopping his resistance, as he looked up, aware that as good as Magnus was, he wasn't going to kill him. He had something about him- he was talking too calmly, like he was going to get him involved in something.
"I don't know either. All I do know, is where he is held. He was dragged off a path and put into the back of a technical, and now he is in a militia's wing, as a white guy with a pistol against half a dozen militants with clubs, machetes and knives. The reason I am still here rather than knowing what and why you are here is because it interests me personally. Because I also think there's more. You don't, and I don't for certain about it all. But I have a hunch. You see, you can go free this friend of yours. But what does it get you? Simple. A friend in a place like this is an invaluable resource. You will die on your own, Scorpion is untouchable and you are not. The mosquitos, the two factions out there, the civilians and even your own fucking government will take you and make your life hell, if you understand me." Magnus said, standing up, tossing the key at Arran, as he uncliped himself.
"And why shouldn't I shoot you then?" Arran said, taking his P226 to hand, holding it low, as he was aware that Magnus was really playing with fire here, but he was holding it aloft.
"Because you have literally nothing to gain and everything to lose. I am not your friend, Mr Mackenzie. But I am a person who understands how problems work here. And I know that you are good at what you do, perhaps the right person to start solving your share of problems isn't yourself. Like the fact you have no leads and are on a timer till a militia eventually will find you and do terrible things to you at this rate. You know how you will do this, but I feel you need a little push before you slip up. You question too much; so go get some answers, find this man, and I'll contact you when the time is right. For now, you are on your own. Good luck." Magnus said, nodding, as he walked away, Arran speechless as he got off the bed, realizing there was a note that Magnus had left. An instruction of sorts. The Police Station, a vague drawing of it's outline. Now that was new. Getting up, he took his kit, leaving his bergen, his Oakleys over his eyes as he looked at a hole in the floorboard.
Gathering his most important kit, he buried it underneath the floorboard, his GPS and identity papers. It had made him think. He was rusty, he needed to fucking think before he died, Arran said to himself. No more fucking about. Remember your training, he said to himself. Stop being a bitch. He pulled the clip out of the Swiss pistol, checking the magazine, before slotting it back in. He tucked it away into his hidden holster, grabbing his Boonie and kit.
"Fuck me...he better be right, or else I'm going to have a shit run." Arran said to himself, looking at his room, before thinking things through about what next, exhaling as he took his key and he left the room. Before he completely walked out, he attached a piece of string with a piece of old gum to the outside of the door and to the hinge, in a hidden crafted way that would tell him if anyone got in- not that it entirely mattered. His valuables were hidden, and anything he didn't mind getting stolen, or at least would keep in the open to not compromise himself, was left, as he headed out, onto the street and out of the hotel. It was a matter of time till he'd wondered past shacks and made it to a corner behind a set of dilapidated slum houses, where he saw the derelict building. The abandoned police station, just as described in the picture. Same shape, it was small but it was a place that the could easily get to. He had work to do, Arran thought to himself.
(Also, this was a post partly written with Big's advice- it may explain why certain details could make sense.)
Arran had walked on, carried on. Nothing. A jeep went past, a few militants within. He looked at them, and they looked at him. They drove past. He knew they knew what he was. A mercenary. A white man, in a world where everyday people wanted freedom. And they did this in horrifying means. Means to an end. And for Arran...means to make money. He didn't care for it, it wasn't his worry what they were up to, but what he was going to do next.
After another half hour, at the break of dawn, he was in town. Shit was fucked here. Like the documentaries at home had showed, this was why poverty killed. The water was as safe as drinking his own piss, and he'd die from about two dozen tropical diseases, and countless STDs if he decided a local whore was his way of having fun. Not here. There were kids, six years old, checking and assembling Kalashnikov rifles. It sicked a part of his soul, as he walked through, aware he wasn't going to find something that would perhaps vindicate it all. He had to find a place to stay. He saw a small sign. Hotel. It had a bullet hole in it. Walking over towards it, the shacks and poor housing, the mud, shit and general excesses that didn't go into a sewage pipe from the slum leaking from filled ditches by his side, he saw something of a vague structure that looked like it had stood. It wasn't too close to the slum to be alien, but it was isolated enough not to be out of the ordinary. A good place to set up.
Walking in, Arran looked around the reception of the lodge, before pinging the bell. A recepionist ran in from the back room. This place looked shitty, but it would do, Arran thought to himself. It was a lodge of some sort, perhaps for backpackers. A young woman, no older than 20, walked up, smiling.
"Hi...I'm looking for a room, paying in American Currency. You good with that?" Arran said, rather a little sternly in his deep highlander Scots accent that sounded like it had sunk Longboats already.
"Yes of course, Sir." She simply said, writing something down, before taking out a key. Her accent was a strong African one, and she seemed a little tired, though formal and polite.
"There $10 deposit, it is $4 a night, Sir. This is a key for room 12, upstairs. Single Bed, there is a stove and any basic amenities. We prefer minerals, on manager's request." She added, noting something down, as he drew the note. He didn't have much- he didn't want a lot. The P226 would achieve a lot more- and cash wasn't going to be accepted everywhere. Places like this, maybe so. And he had enough to sustain. But guns, ammunition, supplies, he'd need minerals. Diamonds, Gold, Silver, Copper Wire would even fucking do if he bartered hard enough. For now, he wanted a roof over his head.
"No problem...minerals you say. How the fuck you are still open in this chaos?" He asked rather coldly, as she was taken aback a little.
"Sir, there are other mercenaries here. You are not alone; two checked in late last night.."
"Shite. Well, alright. Thank you." He replied, getting his answer, walking on, bergen still on back as he headed to his room.
It wasn't anything special, but what it was, was a place to at least lie his head. Think. This was freedom. Getting out the joint was great. It meant he had time to think, to enjoy this. And while it was in a humid shithole, the fact was that for the moment, things were calm here. Just. He checked the P226, his axe close by, and his stuff unpacked, but not entirely so in the case he had to move. He wanted to keep an eye open. Sleeping with one eye open may be a good idea. Now what, he thought to himself, trying to just think. Other mercenaries? There were two here, but he couldn't tell which rooms or where they were. Would they rob him? Probably not, because they didn't know he was here. He took his shirt off, and leaned back, aware the lock was on his door and the windows shut locked, just wanting to get a nap and think on it. Enjoy sleeping without yelling dickheads in a prison cell. It was too good.
Arran opened his eyes. the realization someone was here.
"The locks are shitty, my friend. Stay back." Arran jerked, realizing there was a handcuff to the bed frame, with one hand free as he tried to reach for his P226. The click of a Makarov could be heard, as Arran stopped, realizing what was going on. The shaven man walked over, crouching, pistol ready. He was out of reach, and besides, even with what Magnus knew, Arran was good at fucking people up, but not great. He knew a vague amount of him- not everything, but ex-SBS held out. The Swede spoke with a certain manner, like he wasn't going to be overtaken in tone.
"My name is Magnus. Now, I understand what predicament you are in. In fact, that document told me everything. I always keep an eye out. You just stumble into the one place where you are not pulled off the street and forced to work for your life. In fact, you played it good. It's just that document." He said, as Arran looked.
"And the fuck does that mean!?" Arran said, not shouting but avidly pissed, his Scots accent amusing Magnus, his own Swedish one being a deep and bellowing one that held steadfast in command of English.
"I draw dots that you and another mercenary were in on this. Because it so happens that about two mercenaries wonder into this country, two different methods, with that paper confirming all. You came for Scorpion."
"Who the fuck are you talking about? What mercenary?" Arran said, stopping his resistance, as he looked up, aware that as good as Magnus was, he wasn't going to kill him. He had something about him- he was talking too calmly, like he was going to get him involved in something.
"I don't know either. All I do know, is where he is held. He was dragged off a path and put into the back of a technical, and now he is in a militia's wing, as a white guy with a pistol against half a dozen militants with clubs, machetes and knives. The reason I am still here rather than knowing what and why you are here is because it interests me personally. Because I also think there's more. You don't, and I don't for certain about it all. But I have a hunch. You see, you can go free this friend of yours. But what does it get you? Simple. A friend in a place like this is an invaluable resource. You will die on your own, Scorpion is untouchable and you are not. The mosquitos, the two factions out there, the civilians and even your own fucking government will take you and make your life hell, if you understand me." Magnus said, standing up, tossing the key at Arran, as he uncliped himself.
"And why shouldn't I shoot you then?" Arran said, taking his P226 to hand, holding it low, as he was aware that Magnus was really playing with fire here, but he was holding it aloft.
"Because you have literally nothing to gain and everything to lose. I am not your friend, Mr Mackenzie. But I am a person who understands how problems work here. And I know that you are good at what you do, perhaps the right person to start solving your share of problems isn't yourself. Like the fact you have no leads and are on a timer till a militia eventually will find you and do terrible things to you at this rate. You know how you will do this, but I feel you need a little push before you slip up. You question too much; so go get some answers, find this man, and I'll contact you when the time is right. For now, you are on your own. Good luck." Magnus said, nodding, as he walked away, Arran speechless as he got off the bed, realizing there was a note that Magnus had left. An instruction of sorts. The Police Station, a vague drawing of it's outline. Now that was new. Getting up, he took his kit, leaving his bergen, his Oakleys over his eyes as he looked at a hole in the floorboard.
Gathering his most important kit, he buried it underneath the floorboard, his GPS and identity papers. It had made him think. He was rusty, he needed to fucking think before he died, Arran said to himself. No more fucking about. Remember your training, he said to himself. Stop being a bitch. He pulled the clip out of the Swiss pistol, checking the magazine, before slotting it back in. He tucked it away into his hidden holster, grabbing his Boonie and kit.
"Fuck me...he better be right, or else I'm going to have a shit run." Arran said to himself, looking at his room, before thinking things through about what next, exhaling as he took his key and he left the room. Before he completely walked out, he attached a piece of string with a piece of old gum to the outside of the door and to the hinge, in a hidden crafted way that would tell him if anyone got in- not that it entirely mattered. His valuables were hidden, and anything he didn't mind getting stolen, or at least would keep in the open to not compromise himself, was left, as he headed out, onto the street and out of the hotel. It was a matter of time till he'd wondered past shacks and made it to a corner behind a set of dilapidated slum houses, where he saw the derelict building. The abandoned police station, just as described in the picture. Same shape, it was small but it was a place that the could easily get to. He had work to do, Arran thought to himself.
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