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8 mos ago
Current As long as you're accomplishing things then it's good.
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Bio

. . .


I ' m a w r i t e r

I l i k e i t


. . .


Most Recent Posts

Welcome to the Forum, Kalo. Settle in, kick back, and enjoy the ride.
Hi Juliette, there was this new kid on the block back where I lived as a kid. I had no idea how to express my feelings for her, so one day I just pushed her off her bike when she rode by.

Have fun on the Guild.
In Defiance 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖑𝖎𝖓





About Devlin


Partly human


Female


Five feet, six inches


18 years


Appearance






Devlin is a brave sort, yet she is mostly quiet and reserved, living the life of a nomadic loner since the tragic and bloody death of her family. Her silence, however, carries with it a great deal of bitterness, a deep seeded rage born of the atrocity she witnessed on the day of her parents death.


General Dislikes


Being stared at. People breathing on her. Conversation, particularly long ones.


Likes


Animals


Weapons and Magic


Devlin has a bow she crafted herself, two silver daggers with 10 inch blades, which she took from her daddy’s hidden chest in the wake of his death, and a somewhat antiquated broadsword that holds an age old enchantment she is yet unaware of. This Broadsword was a gift, forged from an ancient and lightweight metal, and presented to her by her only friend, a reclusive and very strange individual who lived in a cave on the side of a mountain.



Devlin is also descendant from a long line of witches, and although she learnt little more than a few small tricks from her mother and grandmother, she spent two years with the aforementioned individual in the mountains of Epir following the death of her family, where this individual shared his knowledge and disciplines in melee and range combat, as well as various forms of Electromancy.


Melee and Range


Had Devlin's lean body-type, unusual strength and agility not been enough, her deep seeded bitterness and hunger for vengeance would have alone served well in the development of her impeccable skills and accuracy, in the arts of both melee and long range weapons.



Electromancy


Having the blood of a witch in her veins certainly helped in the development of her magical skills. In the two years with her mentor, she managed to acquire a good deal of knowledge in the harnessing and application of electricity. Electromancy came natural to her. Her specific abilities primarily involve, but are not limited to, both defense and combat in numerous forms, such as the conjuring of various warding and destructive charges.


Combining Forces


Another ability she learned was the capacity to endow her melee and range weapons with a charge of electricity, effectively adding an electrical kick to her sword, daggers and arrows during combat. The downside of this strength, though mainly prevalent in melee weapon use, is the time in which the 'constancy' of this charge can be maintained before resulting in the depletion of her energy.


Limitations


The strength of any given attack or defense pertaining to the use of Electromancy, pends solely on the amount of energy she is willing to use. At full charge, that being enough to at the very least kill a full grown bear, a single use of her powers will result in the temporary yet debilitating depletion of her energy.


Items


In the various pouches on her attire, Devlin carries small bottles of medicine and other items that tend to come in handy in the life of a nomad.


Other


Enjoys thick layers of butter and a topping of honey on freshly baked bread... and milk.

In Defiance 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Looks good! My character app is just about ready to go, so uh... when you're ready!

not impatient at all

(Nice map btw. Very nice. Must have been a lot of work)

The Following Dawn





The conference room was simple; an elongated room with no windows, a thirty foot table with chairs in front of a twenty foot display screen and a dim, blue aura shed by a small circled array of ceiling lights. At the table sat twelve of the most elite of the sovereign’s advisers, and the sovereign herself taking the center chair.

All members of the conference at first said nothing in response to the new image received from Orbiter 7 on the twenty foot monitor, presenting a detailed, if not disturbing aerial view of the Badlands, specifically the area where the two hundred and twenty six civilians and one hundred and fifty X Type soldiers were presumed to have been slain. The atmosphere in the room was duly thick with that of dread and repulsion.

Her Eminence Goaldinhoe was the first to speak, though unable to take her eyes from the bloody mess displayed in front of her, her expression one of slight bemusement in the breaking of the deathly silence:

“Am I the only one seeing this?”

Hix Forson, Zandorian’s leading psychological counsellor, took the sovereigns question as the perfect excuse to shift her attention from the massacre, swiftly turning her wide-eyed look to the sovereign, and replied; “I suspect that’s a rhetorical question, Your Eminence?”

“It is not,” Goaldinhoe said frankly, and now turned her sights away from the view to heed SOC Flax, who was also present in the room. “SOC Flax!”

Flax flinched a little at the Sovereigns snappy alert, yet he maintained his ever flat expression while his index finger tapped lightly on the table. “Yes, Your Eminence?”

“Is it not true,” She asked, “that your report on this incident mentioned two hundred and twenty six civilians in the Badlands, some of which were driving motorized vehicles?”

Flax nodded, agreeing. “Indeed it is true, Your Eminence.”

“Then tell me, SOC Fax, did your report also mentioned that each of these citizens were naked?”

There was a small snicker in the room among several members in response to Goaldinhoe’s question, while Flax regarded the sovereign with an almost humored change of expression. “That is not in the report, no, Your Eminence. I am certain the civilians were clothed.”

“Then my next question is this,” She said to him; “Were the one and half century of troops you ordered to retrieve these civilians wearing their uniforms, or were they possibly without attire of their own?”

“A assume they were attired fittingly.” Flax answered, as his finger slowly stopped tapping the table.

“And did not our troops enter the Badlands by means of military air and land vehicles?” She asked.

Flax cleared his throat and straightened in his seat, glancing about at the other members in the room who now had their eyes fixed on him. “Of course, Your Eminence,” He said, taking his eyes back to her. “All troops were appropriately clothed and entered the Badlands by military vehicles.” The new no-longer-flat look on his face suggested he knew where the sovereign was going with this line of questioning, but he dared not speak further, as doing more than answering her questions at this point would have undoubtedly come across as disrespectful.

“Then where are they?” She spoke bluntly as she then turned her attention to the leading military technology and science adviser and coordinator, Bolstic Thak, seated directly beside her. “I see no vehicles, military or civilian. I see no clothing. No uniforms. No corpses. No body parts. No flesh. I see not even so much as a stray shoe amid this distasteful display. All I see…” She concluded, turning her eyes back to the image, “…is blood. Nothing more. Am I mistaken?”

“Not at all. You are not mistaken.” Bolstic Thak confirmed. “I find the lack of practical items equally questionable. But I assure you, Your Eminence, I will be doing everything within my power to discover a reason for these obvious discrepancies.”

“And be sure that you do. Quickly.” She told him, and addressed Sharsha Malin, Senior Ground Operations Manager for Orbiter 7, enquiring; “Sharsha Malin, am I to assume the other images from Orbiter 7 are no more revealing than this… picture?”

Sharsha Malin, a woman in her mid-thirties and wearing a face of cold stone, confirmed the sovereigns query with a firm nod. “That is also true, Your Eminence.”

Goaldinhoe stood from her seat, regarding each face in the room before making her formal announcement:

“It is of my very own opinion that the information we have thus far is inconclusive. What we are looking at here is an artifice, and a weak one at that. I see no substantial reason to believe that these two hundred and twenty six civilians and one and a half centuries of soldiers are, without doubt, dead. As of this moment I am declaring these people missing and am hereby launching a Level 10 mission of retrieval.”

At that, an uneasy stir broke out among all present members, most of which taken by shock at the sovereigns command. A Level 10 mission of retrieval had never before been issued in the history of the Zandorian Empire. Though they murmured among themselves, not one of their comments were directed at the Sovereign while she patiently awaited their reaction to settle. When quiet finally returned to the room, she ended the meeting with a clear elaboration of the command she had given them:

“Any and all costs to resources in the efforts to accomplish this mission are hereby rescinded. All ranking and use of personnel restrictions, so long as doing so serves in direct aid to this cause, are hereby waved. You have no limits. By any means necessary you will solve this mystery, you will seek out, obtain, and bring to court those responsible… and you will return my children to my Empire. My command is effective immediately.”

While all members now sat in stunned silence, Her Eminence Goaldinhoe, and in the company of Basal Troven who followed in her wake, made her way to the exit of the room where she paused to look back at SOC Flax, and spoke with the utmost sincerity:

“Congratulations on your success.”






Thus, it was so. One and a half years prior to the present day, Her Eminence Goaldinhoe sanctioned a movement that changed the course of Zandorian technological development. The efforts made in the search and rescue of the missing soldiers and civilians in the Badlands paved way for a whole new era of scientific and industrial advancements.

Important question. Can non-dog internet persons RP as a dog? Said non-dog internet persons being me in this case. I can write a mean "Grrrr. Bark. bark. woof!"


Don't pretend you're not a little puppy, sitting there in front of your computer punching away at the keyboard with those cute paws in a desperate attempt to throw us off your scent.

Nice, let's get this show on the road.

Rubs hands together
Three Days Later


Zandorian NE Military Base, Zandor Territory





13:56

Commander of Civil Defense Deployment, Elstric Flac, sat in her office beside her computer terminal eating home-baked cookies and sipping hot chocolate from her flask when the transmission came in from her superior officer, SOC Flax Elter.

She just about spilt the hot chocolate down the front of her black and grey standard issue uniform when the alert sounded; a sharp high-pitched tone that lit up the displays secondary communications array beside her monitor, which also came alive with text scrolling across the screen:

𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝙾𝙲 𝙵𝚕𝚊𝚡 𝙴𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛

With a quick adjustment of her station and setting the flask aside, she promptly sat to attention and pushed the yellow button to open a channel.

“Elstric Flac present, sir!”

“Commander.” Flax replied in his usual flat tone. “We have a problem.”

“A problem, sir?” She asked, wiping a crumb from her mouth with her thumb.

“A Code Green emergency.” He replied, “This is the situation: Thirty minutes ago Orbiter 7 detected 226 Zandorian civilians on the Badlands. Extrapolation indicate they crossed onto the Badlands from the NE boarder of Zandor twenty two hours ago. Readings also indicate these civilians are both trekking on foot and by motorized vehicle. We are currently unsure as to the reason for this activity.”

“What the hell??” Elstric replied, looking out the window as if observing the military training field outside might help to gain some understanding on matter. “How did it take over twenty hours for orbiter 7 to detect a group of people that size? And more importantly, sir, what possible purpose would over two hundred civilians have for entering the – “

“Pointless questions, Commander.” Flax cut her off. “You know the drill. Get on it.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll order a retrieval Squad immediately. How many Centuries of troops would you recommend?”

There was a moment of radio silence before Flax came back with an unfitting tone of severity, saying; “One and half Centuries, Commander. Type X.”

“Type X, sir? Aren’t Type X troops reserved for Level 5 Covert Operations? This is only a Level 1.”

“You’ve got your orders, Commander, now get on it. You will be receiving Orbiter 7 tracking telemetry within a few seconds.”

Elstric scrunched her face, completely confused. She knew damn well X Troops were reserved for non-civilian and highly classified operations, but she wasn’t about to argue with her superior. “Uhh… Yes, yes sir. As you wish. I’ll get right on that then.”

“Flax out.”





Elstric severed channel communication then launched herself across the room, the wheels of her chair rattling as she coasted to the primary communications station. She immediately initiated a call to the Zandorian Civil Military Deployment, which was actually just two building away from her own, and waited for someone on the other end to open a channel. She tapped her foot impatiently while waiting, looking back over her shoulder and wondering if maybe she had time to grab her flask of hot chocolate –

“Yeah, what?” Coming through from the other end was Coordination’s of Deployment Officer, Beazdic Shnat. “This better be good, Elsy, I’m in the middle of getting my di – “

“Don’t, please, just don’t tell me what you were doing, you sick little man.” Elstric said, and sighed regrettably. The hot chocolate would have to wait.

Beazdic snickered. “So what do you want, hot stuff?”

She planted her face in the palm of her hand and shook her head. “Please, Beezy, don’t call me that. This is important.” She sat straight in her seat as then the monitor in front of her opened telemetry form Orbiter 7, displaying tracking coordinates of the 226 civilians now over twenty miles into the Badlands.

“As important as… last night?” Beazdic replied with a sleazy whisper.

“I just received orders from Flax.” She said, ignoring his comment and punching out directives in the keyboard. I’m sending you Orbiters 7’s coordinate telemetry as we speak.”

“What are you talking about, Elsy?” Beazdic became abnormally serious. “We actually have an order from Flax?”

“That’s what I’m telling you.” She replied, and hit Enter. “You should be receiving the telemetry momentarily.”

Radio silence took over while Elstric waited for Beazdic to absorb the information she sent. Close to a minute later he returned, sounding considerably suspicious. “Errr, over two hundred people in the Badlands…. Why though?”

“My thoughts exactly.” She replied. “But apparently there’s no answer to that question as yet.” She takes a breath before delivering the next bit of unbelievable news. “I’m hereby ordering a one and a half Century retrieval Squad. Type X. Effective immediately.”

“Wait…” Beazdic pauses to garble something under his breath. “Are you joking with me right now? Type X? Are you on drugs?”

“This isn’t a joke, Beezy. Get on it now. I’m serious. Flax sounded different. I mean, for a minute there he actually sounded like a real person. So don’t fuck around with this one. Understood?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure.” He said, after another short spell of silence. “It’s all good. Already made the deployment application. A few minutes from now and the troops will be on their way out there.”

“Thanks. Flac out.”





Twelve hours later


Tower of Meth, home of Her Eminence Goaldinhoe





02:00

“Are you crazy?” She whispered, trying not to unduly disgruntle any nearby guards. “It’s two in the morning, I can’t just wake her up!”

Basal Troven, the sovereigns First Minister and closest advisor, had an almost unnatural sheen and soft body to his black, wavy coiffure that complimented the finest black leather cloak he was, as usual, adorned in, unclipped at the waist to reveal the silk folds of his violet pullover top, the glimmering gold chain hanging low from his neck, and thick layers of grey-patterned bombazine trousers that accentuated the firm curves of his thigh muscles. Not at all pleased by the denial of his request, his intense blue eyes peered down at the young Tower Damsel with unwavering severity, as the perfectly maintained skin of his nostrils flared to accentuate his disdain.

“You will do as I say,” He told her, speaking boldly and without care for the guards within ear range, “Or I will see to it that you are cast from this castle and down-ranked to work in the Commoners district if Alin City…. The choice, you see, is yours.”

The young Tower Damsel looked as though she were about to cry, flickering a glance toward one of the guards in the shy hope that maybe they would intervene and save her from this ghastly dilemma. But instead of being spared by the guards, a soft sounding click echoed almost eloquently though the hallway, causing the guards to then fall to one knee as the door to the sovereigns’ bedchamber gently opened several meters behind the Tower Damsel. The young Damsel gasped in petite surprise, turning to witness her eminence Goaldinhoe step out from the threshold and wrapped snuggly in a royal, crimson night gown.

With a gracious wave of her hand, Goaldinhoe dismissed the tower Damsel who bowed quickly before departing down the hallway. The sovereign then regarded Basal Troven with a small yet curious smile, before tilting her head to one side, inviting him to follow as she returned to her chamber. He bowed his head respectfully and complied.

The bedchamber was large and spacious. The walls were decorated with fine art and draped hangings of the highest quality silk designs. The bed itself was enclosed by a curtain of fine netting, while the whole room flickers with the pleasant ambiance of firelight chandeliers. Goaldinhoe herself gracefully crossed the room and stood by the foot of her bed where she turned with unfaltering patience for her friend and held out one hand for him take in his.

She spoke quietly, sensually; “What is so very important that you come to me at this hour, my friend?”

Basal took her hand in his, gently caressing it with his thumb while he stole a short while to admire the golden locks of her hair, the iridescent green tints of her eyes, the youthful glow of her face, and the supple contours of her pink painted lips.

With his voice forlorn, making known his sad sentiments with a lowly drop of his brow, and confessed; “I come with sorrowful news, Your Eminence. I regret having to deliver this information to you at this hour, but it is of the upmost importance that your response on this matter be made public near after dawn.”

“No matter,” She replied, solemnly meeting his tone, “I wasn’t tired on any accord. So speak, deliver the news to my waiting ears.”

“The news is of the Badlands, Your Eminence…. Yesterday, over two hundred of your people took venture there. We yet do not understand why. A Retrieval Squad of over one Century was sent to their rescue. Before the Squad could get there, our satellite lost contact with all said citizens. Their life signs and heat signatures simply vanished from radar. Upon the squad’s arrival at the civilians last known coordinates, images were transmitted back to our military base of what they found. …However, soon after this our troops also vanished from radar. It would appear we have, in the period of merely one hour, lost near four hundred Zandorian’s to the Badlands, both civilians… and military personnel.”

Her hand had slipped from his grasp half way through his speech and swung listlessly by her side while her eyes, weighted with grief, almost shut as if to sleep in the closing of his words. A deep, mournful groan was heard to escape her slightly parted lips before she again found the will to speak:

“The images our soldiers sent back before they too vanished. What did they reveal?”

He stared back at her, unwilling for the moment to say.

“Tell me, Basal, tell me what they revealed.”

“Blood.” Basal swallowed hard and dry. “A great deal of blood, Your Eminence.”

Her eyes began to visibly strain in the battle against tears.

“Our sate…” He choked on his words, clearing his throat to continue. “Our satellites are currently processing more images of the area.” He dropped his face shamefully toward the floor, as though blaming himself for what happened. “They should be ready for viewing at your request.”

Her Eminence Goaldinhoe, slowly extended her hand once more, lifting Basal’s chin with one finger as she stepped in close and drew her face near to his. A tear broke free from her eyes and defiled her face as the heat of her breath washed over his face in the slow spilling of her words;

“You will find out why this has happen to my children…. And those responsible will pay with their very lives. Do you hear my words, my friend?”

Basal raised his eyes, focusing on the newly opened door to the darkness in her soul.

“Yes, Your Eminence.”

Six Months Later


Zandorian Empire





Alin City.

Military Facility, Civil Investigations Division.

09:45

Dezlic Blaid was a lean, strong man, dressed in black slacks and white shirt. His presentation was nothing amazing, and being the only fine clothes he had to wear for the last year was made evident by the faded knees of his slacks and frayed trimming of the shirt. His brown hair was also groomed, swept to one side, although his measure of care in that area had taken a noticeable dive of late. In addition, Dezlic had neglected to shave this morning, most likely deliberately, yet a five O’clock shadow seemed to enhance his rugged, commoner appeal, and certainly didn’t conflict with the heavy lashes that rigidly framed his green eyes.

SOC (Senior Operations Commander) of Civil Investigations, Flax Elter – dressed in a deep green suit, tie and white shirt – didn’t feel the need to get out of his chair when Dezlic stepped into his office. Instead he remained slumped behind his desk, face flat with apathy, index finger slowly tapping on the open file in front of him. His abandoned lust for life was further exhibited by his empty stare, the greying, unkempt fall of his hair, and the pendulum on a nearby dusty bookcase that had long since lost its will to keep swinging.

The squeaking of Dezlic’s rubber sole boots on the tiled floor was gracelessly loud, and emphasised his own sense of being an imposition as he crossed the room. He wasn’t nervous, nor was he intimidated by being alone in the company of the highest ranking civilian liaison officer, it was more a feeling of loathsome irritation towards the lack respect the man had for his visit. As dezlic arrived in front the desk, he turned his eyes down for a brief view of the open case file in front of Flax, which included a photo and an abundant amount of information about his daughter, then lifted his look to regard flax with a quizzical curl of his brow.

“My name Dezlic Blaid,” He started as a manner of obligated courtesy, “I’m here about my daug –“

“I know why you’re here.” Flax interrupted with a flat drawl. He then seemed to take great effort to regard the empty chair beside Dezlic, while forcing back a long breath to prepare his next words. “Take a seat.”

“At this point I think I prefer to stand.” Dezlic told him straight, leaving no secret to the annoyance he was feeling. “I’ve been doing enough sitting for the last year and a half, waiting for some sort of positive response from you miserable lot of insensitive pricks.”

Flax replied with unchanging lack of expression, convincingly oblivious to the insult slung at him before delivering the small shrug of one shoulder. “Alright then.” He said, and let his eyes fall to the case file. “So here we are.” He perused the information for a while. His finger stopped tapping. He slowly extended his arm and lifted the photo for a closer look. “And this is your daughter, Camilla… huh….” He rolled his eyes up at Dezlic. “Strange name, Camilla, can’t say I’ve heard of it before.”

Dezlic sneered at the man, noting his disdain, because obvious his daughters name was the most important part of his reasons for being here today.

“I mean… don’t get me wrong.” Flax explained numbly; “It’s pretty or whatever. Yeah. Just unusual.”

“I’m not here to discuss my daughter’s name with you!” Dezlic snapped, fists clenched at his side. “What the hell is wrong with you people? I’m here to discuss launching a search party to find her already! It’s been a year and half since she disappeared – I think the time to start looking is way the hell overdue, don’t you think, sir??"

Flax managed to lift one side of his brow, closing the case file as he nestled in his seat and turned to look out the window at the view of the very ugly building next door. “Perhaps.” He mumbled very softly, possibly even putting some thought into his words. “But then… it appears to me to be too late.” He looks back at Dezlic. “We have been warning the public for close to a century not to enter the Badlands. They’re called bad for a reason. People go missing there. It’s not a secret. Everyone knows this. If you swim with the sharks, expect to get eaten.”

“She was sixteen,” Dezlic retorted, “Just a child, exploring with friends – she can hardly be blamed for reckless behaviour.”

“But you can.” Flax said, still as flat and unexcited as ever. “You are aware of the law. Until the age of 17 all commoners are recognised as being under the supervision of their parent or other registered guardian types. By all accounts, you’re lucky you weren’t incarcerated for neglecting a minor under your supervision, hence, you really only have yourself to blame for all this. You’re daughter went missing because you were negligent in your duties as a parent. So please…” He motions with hand, inviting Dezlic to take a seat once more, “How about you stop directing your rage at people who are trying to help and take a seat so we can talk about the situation like civilized men. Or perhaps…” Flax glanced at the door, “You would like to reschedule this meeting for a later date?”

Dezlic knew he would have been justified in continuing to argue the matter, for various reason, but doing so wasn’t about to get him very far. His main priority right now was persuading Flax to launch a search party for his daughter. So he held his peace, gritting his teeth with a firm shake of his head; rescheduling wasn’t on the table, obviously. Sucking up his pride he took a reluctant seat in the provided chair.

“Now be honest with me.” Flax leaned forward, resting both elbows on the desk and gazing into Dezlic’s eyes. “After all this time, what do you think the likelihood is of your daughter still being alive?”

Clearing his throat, Dezlic took a moment to find his words. “Camilla’s alive. I know it, there’s no doubt in my mind, there’s no doubt in the mind of spouse either. We know it. You’re a parent yourself, aren’t you, SOC Flax? According to the media, you’re a father of three children. So I don’t need to explain that a parent knows when something is going on with their children. Nothing needs to be said or even seen. As a parent you can feel it, and right now I can feel her. She’s screaming out for me, for my wife, for help to anyone who can hear her. She needs saving, sir, and you are the only man who can help.”

Remaining rested forward with elbows on desk, Flax took his own moment to consider Dezlic’s words. “And I, Dezlic, have no need to explain to you what you’re asking of me right now. The Badlands are off limits, not just to the common folk, but to everyone.”

“I’m aware of the reputation the Badlands have, sir.” Dezlic said, “The Badlands are prohibited. But you know that my daughter and the three friends she was with aren’t the first to go missing in that place. Hundreds if not thousands of people have had the same fate for as long as we’ve been a nation. Isn’t it at least time for us to launch an investigation to find out what happened to all of those who have gone missing over the years? Don’t we care? Are we just going to sit back in our office chairs and continue to let our courageous citizens be taken by whatever evil lies out there? I’m not the only one who shares this view….”

Flax smirked lightly, rolled his eyes. “You apparently don’t see the big picture.” He stuck his little finger in his ear for a scratch to allow himself time to consider what information to divulge to this commoner. “It’s not about that. We aren’t heartless. It isn’t that we don’t care, and we are certainly aware of the citizens who have gone missing in the Badlands – and I’m telling you now, more people have gone missing than our government is willing to share.” With that said, Flax stood. He rolled his shoulders back to stretch out the kinks in his aging bones then walked over to the window, peering stringently at the ugly building next door as he proceeded to inform Dezlic of certain matters:

“The Badlands is a big place. We don’t own it. It’s not our country, and if someone out there does in fact own that sorry excuse for a land, then they, by their own laws, may be well justified in seizing any trespassers. But that right there is the thing, Dezlic, if there are a people living in that place, then they have done a fine job of keeping themselves hidden from the severance satellites we have in orbit – and make no mistake,” Flax turns from the window to glare at Dezlic, “that’s exactly what scares the hell out us.”

Dezlic too rises from his seat and approaches the SOC, standing face to face with the man. “So what you’re saying is - despite being unable to detect any life - the fact that so many people have gone missing is evidence that someone or something does actually live there. But… since they have the power to elude our own prestigious surveillance technology, you’re too damn scared to go after them. Our military is chickenshit…. Is that what you’re telling me, sir?”

“That is more or less the truth of the matter.” Flax admitted; “But wouldn’t you too be scared of an enemy you can’t see?”

“No.” Dezlic screwed up his face, expressing the disappointment in his countries own military. “If it were up to me, I would have found them already. I would have put them on trial for what they have done to the citizens of our Empire. There is no fear. Justice for my people would supersede all else. You, Flax, and all of our military, are pathetic in my eyes.”

“That’s funny.” Flax chuckled. “Just what do you expect me to do, send soldiers out to meet almost certain death? Think about those soldiers, Dezlic, they have families too; children, parents, loved ones. Do you truly expect me to send them out on a suicide mission to search for one little girl who shouldn’t have even been out there in the first place?”

“That’s what the military are there for, isn’t it?” Dezlic asked; “To put their lives on the line for their people? Or did I miss something?”

Flax walked away and nestled into his seat again before posing the question; “Dezlic…. Tell me what you’ll do, if I were to deny your request today, what’s your next move? …Something tells me you have another plan up your sleeve.”

“You’re more observant than you look.” Dezlic had turned, still standing as his eyes followed Flax to his seat. “But I can’t tell you that, sir.”

“Of course you can’t….” Flax nodded firmly. “And don’t get me wrong, I understand what you’re going through. Had I lost my own daughter I’d be standing where you are today. You need to understand, I can’t justify launching a search part to the Badlands for the sake of one missing girl, or even all three of her friends for that matter. But perhaps… if I wasn’t entirely ignorant to what other plans you might have after leaving my office today, I may find a way to justify launching a… Different type of rescue?”

Dezlic cocked his head, gleaming at the officer with intrigue. “Is this the part where people are usually too stupid to say the right thing to you?”

“It is.” He gives Dezlic a wink as he adjusts his tie. “Besides, this office is getting a little stuffy.”

“Then I suppose there’s no real harm in telling you.” Dezlic smirked cordially, taking a few paces to the center of the room and sliding both hands in his pockets. “If I were to have, hypothetically, gathered a couple of hundred outraged citizens to go out on our own search for missing Zargonian’s in the Badlands, then….”

“- Then I suspect I would be forced to launch a retrieval squad.” Flax concluded, as he took the case file and tucked it away in a tray on the corner of his desk. “For example, deploying a Century of troops to go after those law breaking citizens and bring them home, would seem to be a more than reasonable response. Wouldn’t you say?”

Dezlic nodded in agreement. “That does sound like an appropriate course of action.”

“In which case,” Flax rolled his eyes thoughtfully to the ceiling, “The only question remaining is…. How soon would a large group of outraged citizens be planning to do such a thing?”

“It would be nothing but hearsay, really,” Dezlic surmised, “But at a guess I would probably say… two days from now?”

“Then I guess this matter has been settled. Nothing more to be said.” Flax regards the door. “Be sure to kick the dust from your boots on your way out.”

“Indeed.” Dezlic confirmed and turned away. The soles of his boots once again squeaked loudly on the tiled floor as he made his way to the door to let himself out. “Thank you for your time, sir.”

“Oh, and just one more thing.” Flax called after him. Dezlic paused to listen with the door half open. “Welcome to the secret war, Dezlic.”

Added a nation in Character section. Hopefully I'll get another IC up soon.
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