MachineSoul

[Zamokra41] - Avalon Empire - [MachineSoul]

With days quickly passing by unnoticed, the heir found himself rather overwhelmed with the amount of stress clambered unto his shoulders. Sure, it just seemed that the day of reckoning couldn't arrive yet, but at the same time, he would realize in stupefaction that another day and night has passed without finding motivation to prepare himself for the liberation of his home province. As if it were not enough, he had knowledge of mutiny; that alone would put any nobleman on his toes, never mind all of the other issues that just seem to pool up. Even the sleeping draught couldn't help him find some sort of comfort, as his nights were still crept and stalked upon by night terrors.

It helped him, to some extent, that he took the next day to refrain from undergoing any strenuous duty that would push him into exhaustion. The talk he had with the human envoy was a pleasant welcome, since he had to keep his snout shut most of the time, and only drive his answers wherever he wanted, much like a relaxed interrogation. To that, madame Shroudmyre had to add her own story, so she could leave just as a good impression as Marcus. Aleko barely had to say anything again, as he slowly followed the woman just with his gaze. He rubbed his own nose a few times as he felt his focus slip several times, even more so when the woman's own piercing gaze seemed to just shamelessly penetrate his intimacy; clearly, she was a devious creature, willing to use dirty tricks to gain favor and personal winnings, even if it meant that she would use womanly charms on a young heir.

I am so curious, how your eyes might look like with that pretty, and venomous mouth of yours, wrapped around my- but his derivative, and taboo thoughts, are interrupted the realization that she just talked mostly non-sense.

"Yet, you've told me nothing of your allegiance. Of history, I am knowledgeable, as well as master Gwynpath, I am sure." He stated in a relaxed tone, blinking slowly before he took another sip out of his coffee.

Then came her answer, followed by her ever more penetrative gaze, which Aleko could only fall into. Be the time she retired in her seat to take her own sip, he found himself craving more of her eyes. He won his composure back as he was asked him about his own journey. Although reluctant at first to say anything about himself, being sure that they knew exactly what he was before, he could only find it fair of him to share as well. He wouldn't want to nurture a one-way relationship with his servants, he could at least try to pretend that it's two-way.

"Let me assure you that my story is as boring as it can be." He started in a rather unenthusiastic manner. "Son of a noble woman cast away by her family and husband as my visage did not resemble my, presumably, anthro heritage. My childhood and youngster years were spent at home, reading, writing and learning the knightly art of combat. Come deployment age, I've impressed the recruiters that handed me over to the Rangers. Given my noble descent and the volume of lore I've learned, I was to become an officer. Said and done, years pass, I'm tasked to offer security in civil war-torn cities, skirmish the lands of separatist nobles, the usual grunt work elite rangers do. Why not send plain knights and men-at-arms? One of us is a dozen times more dangerous; that's because of our equipment and trained unwillingness to chatter. If we're there to keep you out of the plaza so important people can meet, you'd be utterly foolish and suicidal to dare touch us."

"Then, the War of Tulips arrived. Very far away from home, I am aware, but the king most likely has some very strong relations with the merchants and traders in Eagleblade, else, he wouldn't have sent us to sweep the castle clean and clear the river for ships to sail." Aleko had long stopped drinking his coffee, his eyes peering into the undulating reflection of his canine snout. "Some of the rumors you might have heard are untrue, we're not ghosts that walk through walls, or ghouls to slit throats during one's sleep. If it were that easy, there would be no war to fight, would it be?" He chuckled sourly. "But it wasn't easy. If anything, it's the third most difficult thing I've ever had to deal with in my short life. Second place is taken by me trying to talk to this pretty merchant's daughter into a dance ball once. That's something I'd rather not recollect, hmhm."

"First place is taken by this. I'm sorely unprepared for this ample task I've been given, to rule an empire. But, as a good, obedient soldier, I will complete the objective to the best of my ability. I don't mean to discourage you, but I want to be transparent about this issue. I'm not the foreseen savior of Avalon, foretold by some prophecy written and starts, or whatever mad rambling is out there. No. Look at me." He stood up, lifting his arms slightly.

"What you see, a young mutt with a ton of power under his heel, is what you get. Take it the way it is, or leave. I don't mind either. Help me, rewards will be found for us all to reap. Leave me, I will bid farewell and good luck on your endeavors. Betray me, I'll gut you like a damn fish with a blunt knife in front of your families, personally." He allowed that warning to settle in, before he clasped his hands behind his back.

The conversation soon ended.

By the time the twentieth day of his mandate arrived, the heir could hold up on his feet quite well, although he could still feel some weights pulling his shoulders down due to fatigue. He quickly learned that the teleportation site had been completed, and the wizards have arrived to sink the province. Quite content with the news, Aleko finally showed some sort of emotion after three days of apathy, through a lopsided smirk on his canine maw.

"Thoroughly so, master Weaverstar." He replied to his court wizard.

For his own fortitude and capabilities, Aleko started to condition his body through whatever workout he could complete in his own quarters, honing his muscles and senses to peak performance. Then, he asked for a training pell, a blunt longsword and blunt dagger, so he could put his body to work while he practiced tactics in his mind. Steel whirled as he swung the waster around his frame, throwing debilitating cuts at the training pole with measured force and great speed. He properly knocked the dust out of the material, as loud thuds filled his room, as the steel edge impacted the pell. Still not satisfied, he asked for someone to help him suit up in his steel harness, to add combat realism; after all, he wouldn't be going in a doublet on the battlefield. His endurance was put to stress, as he had to cope with significant loss of mobility and some more weight unto his body; still, his strikes were true and quick, transitioning from time to time to placing one hand on the blade of the sword and train as if he were facing an armored opponent. He nurtured his body's needs, but for the most part, he secluded himself in his quarters, to focus on his condition. He couldn't allow emotion to overcome him during the fight, he had to keep himself sharp. He was so determined to stay so, that he asked some guards for a few bouts with blunt weapons, shifting from one-to-one combat, to formation techniques. By the time the fateful day arrived, he felt unsatisfied with his progress, but pleasantly sore and ripe for a fight. He could feel rage churn, just ready to lash out and take the lives of those who dared to defy him personally.

He had his arming jacket and trousers on, as well as the steel leggings, sabatons, knee protectors. He reached the war room, carrying an arming cap in one hand, while in the other he had all of his weaponry tied together by leather belts and buckles. Servants quickly arrived after with the rest of his battle harness, and started to fit them unto the heir.

"How're conditions in Zeiserberg?" Aleko calmly asked, his icy gaze shining with murderous intent. "As soon as I'm in my armor and with my armament on, I'm good to go. Any developments during the night, any reports at all?"

Whatever answers might arrive, he was more than ready to take them, since he was prepared to walk under the undiscriminating eyes of death, on a field that would be his domain. Yet, he knew that he wouldn't fall during this task, for his heart wouldn't let him. It was about time he's done something as a gesture of gratitude to the one person that made him what he is today, a woman that sacrificed everything for the love of her child.

Mom. Stay put and smart, I'm coming in and I'll kill them all. I swear, I will make them suffer thousandfold if they've laid a finger upon you.

[Zamokra41] - Avalon Empire - [MachineSoul]

Silence had fallen unto the heir's lips, as the envoys reacted in all sorts of interesting manners, from gasps, to shouts, to apparent apathy. His cold gaze was affixed unto the surface of the table, following the jagged reflections of the envoys present, as they animated and displayed various degrees of support and regret. But, Aleko's expression remained unchanged, until madame Shroudmyr pointed out a very important detail that did not cross his mind initially, if at all, since he had been too busy to reel from the mind-numbing news. He lifted his snout, his eyebrows rising while his tired cortex processed what the other hybrid meant to say.

We've a traitor. He thought, before Frosthand stated it out loudly.

He could feel a fiery dagger slowly dig itself into his bowels, which spread rage and hatred through his core. He found it unbelievable, that someone had found this sort of information and quickly sent it over to the Stainless Empire at such a short notice, in the span of a week. Every other word that followed would be the result of logical deduction, and the one conclusion that troubled him the most was the fact that it was a perfectly laid-out trap for him to fall into by acting on pure emotion, rather than rationally forging a machination to deal with the personal attack. But, how could he react logically to an attack that was meant to stir him, and have him react in one form or another? Let alone his mother being caught in the invasion, he shared memories with the folk he knew there, as well as the landscapes and the architecture of the province. And therein, Aleko found that he had an advantage, the fact immediately sparking a few ideas in his mind. The canine seemed to grow rather agitated as the envoys kept stirring and mumbling, becoming rather uneasy on his seat as he wanted to storm out into solitude and coalesce his transient thoughts into a plan. But, at the end, he felt the need to part with a few words. Unfortunately, his gesture wold turn to be rather crass, as he managed to topple the chair behind him as he pushed himself on his feet. Aleko winced at the sound and shook his head.

"I will accept master Weaverstar's incentive to closely investigate this outrageous act of mutiny. But, if any of you find a clue, a hint of sorts regarding the involvement in this betrayal, you are to report immediately." The heir dictated, while he pulled the chair from the ground and push it back in its place. "But, any form of bickering and false accusation will be punished. I want a serious investigation, and not an opportunity to boot out whomever you do not like. We're here for unity, above all. Godspeed."

But, the heir found no respite, as the human envoy made it jarringly obvious he had no implication with the treason, as he persistently confessed his sorrowful feelings towards the delicate issue. Aleko strode down towards the map room with his hands crossed to his back, his gaze washing over the floor as once again, the length of the corridor seemed to have doubled that day, as well as Gwynpath seeming to not stop blabbering. But, once they reached the entrance, the heir placed a hand upon the human's shoulder and offered it a limp tug.

"You have my thanks, master Gwynpath." Stated Aleko. "I... I need to speak to the generals and have a moment to recollect before I can think about other matters. But, consider yourself invited to a enjoy a coffee with me on the morrow."

Did I just? He questioned himself. Am I that lonely? I have just made myself vulnerable. The heir felt dread as he walked inside the map room, where he found the generals waiting for him.

"Generals." He promptly greeted them, as he made his way to his usual spot. There, he sighed and leaned against the surface with his palms. "We have a situation."

And reactions followed once he disclosed the details of the invasion. And they weren't favorable, as it would seem there was little that they could do about Zeiserberg without stirring unwanted attention, which would cut down the momentum of the counter. The province was far away too, thus reinforcements would be rather cumbersome to sail over. Every possible maneuver would put them at a major disadvantage, in such a manner that the advantages Aleko found would quickly pale. This was a deviously smart attack, that should rile him and mindlessly send his forces over to liberate the province and lose the fight against a defensive force; most likely, they counted on the Old Empire to jump at his troops and reduce the numbers before the Stainless could arrive and deliver a coup'd'grace. It seemed that choices were very slim, until, Cyrus made his appearance with a suggestion of his own.

Trying to make amends for your deception, you artifact? Aleko thought as he glanced at the wizard.

The halfling listened to it all, his teeth lightly grinding away at the new thoughts, while his fingers rubbed the bad ideas into oblivion. But, with so many eyes upon him, he couldn't focus, he couldn't have thoughts of his own. The heir took a moment to rub his eyes.

"I... the infiltrators, and forces. We-" he cleared his throat. "Allow me a moment." The halfling stormed out of the room, to head to the first latrine in his way, where he quickly dismantled himself unto his knees and retched down the stinking hole.

His entire frame arched and contorted as his innards refused to digest his breakfast, and hurled the mostly-intact meal down the hatch. By the time he could control the spasms, he found himself miserably sitting on the floor, his back resting against a wall while panting for some air. He tried to open his watered eyes, but the salt of his sweat stung him. After an attempt to clear his throat, he spat out more of the food down the hole, and calmed his breath down. Finally, he had the silence he required to plot, although the location wasn't the most appropriate. It didn't matter, patterns were forming, mechanisms clinked and clattered, as he mentally tried to outmaneuver his foes. When he could push himself up, he started to walk up and down the small chamber, in a rather erratic pattern, as his mind completely separated from its body to delve itself into strategy. Only when some worker accessed the latrine, did the Emperor wake from his meditative state and gawped at the intruder. He blinked and slithered out, offering his apologies to the man that wanted to use the chamber. It probably took him an hour or so to return, but when he did, he looked weaker still, although twice as determined.

"The fact that we can transport our troops inside the province in a matter of a week is what dismantles every bit of the Stainless's plan to crush our counterattacking forces." The heir quickly muttered as he walked back inside the room, and served himself with another cup of water to wash down the awful taste of bile.

"They counted on that I would give in to rage and dispatch troops immediately, with me spearheading the counteroffensive. They counted on the fact that it would take us at the very least three weeks to reach Zeiserberg, time in which they would have easily consolidated their defensive positions and reinforce their invasion forces; furthermore, they counted on the two provinces controlled by the Old Empire to shave off some of our numbers, as an opportunity to take revenge on Northspark. Deviously clever. And if it weren't for Master Weaverstar to cut my rage short, I would have definitely thrown myself into the fray, with little regards towards anyone's suggestions." He sighed, and swallowed dryly.

"The plan is as follows." He stretched his back. "Infiltrators are to prepare the teleportation ritual, but as I've suggested to general Planestalker, they will also attempt to sabotage the army and cut off their supplies and reinforcement lines. As such, they've enough tasks at hand, therefore, you may rescind the task of scouting for my mother." He could feel his torso squirm and send a cold chill through his hide. "As, for how the counterattack will go..." he cleared his throat, and proceeded to drink some more water.

"Firstly, I need to point out I know the province on the inside out. The Anthro lands are prone to wet weather, them being a mass of islands in a maritime temperate climate; while the province doesn't usually get hammered with bad weather too often, it produces an awful amount of muck and mud under heavy downpours. Combine that with the infiltrators cutting off supplies, it will significantly slow them down and make their stay a very unpleasant one. Since, they've been there for one week now, they wouldn't have amassed much of a force, and with another week of slow supplies and terrible weather, they will be properly weaken for us to storm over them."

"Granted, bad weather isn't a guarantee. Unless, we bring it upon them. Therefore, the first squad to make it through will be made of wizards. Their task is to stir the clouds into a constant thunderstorm and downpour, regardless of the risk of provoking floods. There's plenty of overcast and heavy clouds to shape and play with; now, this may not be quite ethical in some eyes, but is this open threat towards me and my mother made by a man with high moral standards?"

"Another point on having wizards there is that, most likely, the Stainless will have "borrowed" Anthro equipment by now; that means, lots of steel and wood. Standard troops against plate armor and high-end weaponry will not stand a chance, but if we were to assault steel with electrical bolts, and roast them inside their armor and melt their weapons with balls of fire..." he furtively glanced at Bulkwyn, feeling her gaze slitting his throat.

"... me being an elite ranger, a mage is the last thing I'd want to encounter. Or, one of my own men. As such, the second wave will comprise of Elite Rangers and Dwarven Grenadiers, with me and another general by my side. Why Rangers and Grenadiers? Zeiserberg holds no castle, or fort, it is a strictly urban and rural province with no lordly domain, and in such terrain, we're bound to fight in a lot of close-quarter situation, of not on open lands. In both cases, we need light, versatile and highly maneuverable troops, with the potential to deliver massive firepower. Grenades take out rooms and entire buildings, clear corners, corridors, streets even. Elite Rangers are used to muck and mud, and will fight from distance before storming occupied buildings with advanced weaponry to clear stragglers after the grenades have cleared most of the threats. Trenches are easy to clear with grenades, as well as with pyromancy. Open field fights can be shifted on our side with the help of the storms formed by the wizards, unleashing lightning upon the enemy. We will drive the enemy into the provinces held by the Old Empire, so that the stragglers will be finished off by them. Those who surrender? Gods be in their side, for I will not feel merciful."

"It may turn out to be a battle of attrition, as opposed the quick storm with which we took over Northspark, but we will be amply supplied by the people of Zeiserberg, especially if they will know it is me that leads the liberating force." Aleko took a moment to gulp and sit down, to rest his mind and mouth. He sighed, rubbed his jaw and grumbled.

"I know, they may have prepared for this type of counter, since they were smart enough to devise this trap, but I count on the fact that they do not expect us to arrive sooner than they would expect us. But, given our current situation, I believe they will soon learn of our trick, for I have been informed that a traitor lays in wait among us." The heir sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Master Weaverstar will handle this situation personally, no need to jump the horse. But if you sirs find a clue in regards to who is this cut-throat, you are to inform either me or him immediately."

"Now then. Three squads, one made of wizards that goes in first, the other two some time after they arrive. I will definitely join the attack. Who else wishes to join me?" He asked, while not looking at any of the generals in particular, but quite clearly avoiding Bulkwyn's presence. "And most importantly, have you better suggestions?"

[Zamokra41] - Avalon Empire - [MachineSoul]

Come daylight, there was little that Aleko could do, but to put himself into motion and face another day. His body barely crept out of the bed, and when he did find himself standing on his own two feet, he would lag in every motion: it took him twice as much to bathe and gussy up, twice as much to pick suitable garments for himself to wear that day. He took a bit of his time to gaze upon his bare frame, noticing the rather jarring pairs of bags under his eyes, and the slightly sad state of his fur. But, even in this state, it looked rather decent, if at his healthiest it looked silky smooth. But even when he was done checking himself, his walk to the diner felt twice as long, and his meal arrived after an unreasonable amount of wait. As the heir sat alone, trying to chew away at his food with little to no interest and enthusiasm, tried to find the roots of this apparent exhaustion, seen as he didn't subject himself to enough physical effort for his body to slow down and ask for respite.

It has to be the lack of sleep, he first told himself, his blue orbs gazing emptily through the table while his jaw mechanically minced a toasted sandwich, but, I feel it's more than that. My mind would be sleepy and slow, but why does my body feel as if I've walked in full plate for months? Those strange happenings, they're getting to me.

When he did raise his gaze from the table, he took a moment to look around the dining area and its denizens, happily conversing to each other while they broke their fast with various hearty combinations of food, ranging from roasted bacon with fried eggs and a ladle of spinach, to still-hot scrambled eggs layered with melted cheese, served with crisp sausages coated with a spiced tomato sauce and brown beans. While the air was filled with mixed scents, Aleko didn't quite feel attuned to the cheery ambiance. If anything, he couldn't help but to notice how lonely he was, how he had no connection to anyone there other than through his rank and status; they all knew him as Emperor Aleko Farland Sendrakon, the first of his name, endearingly called Frosty. Yet, no one there really knew the entire meaning of this nickname he had been given, why so many referred to him like so; sure, the first thought that would come in one's mind is that his fur attracted the amusing name, but there has yet been one to invest time and try to communicate with "Frosty", to sit down with him at the table and talk anything else but the status of the Empire. Yet, there wouldn't be room for such pleasantries, as the reports for that day arrived, and they all looked quite favorable: the mage tree affair went just as he wanted it to go, as well as the whole Ice Troll infestation that bothered the dwarves. It was a rather nasty problem with many complications, but against the brute force of nature, at least double the ferocity was required to tone it down. Then, he found his snout to be plastered with a big smile as he read about the communicators being mass-produced and being already implemented for use by the military. While the passcode was rather out of place, and a tad predictable in his mind, it would work for now.

I will have to pay Gudwyn, Reginal and Tch... the lizard man a visit after I've talked to the envoys. Aleko thought as he delivered his half-empty plate to the server before he walked his way to the council chambers.

Again, he found it to be a way-too-long journey, the halls felt as though they had no end, but at some point, he managed to stumble inside the room rather groggily, and closed the doors behind him rather roughly. This time, the emperor had donned a scarlet long-sleeved doublet with a black sword embroidered upon the left side of his chest, a pair of black trousers snugged into a pair of similarly colored boots. Although he wore a lively color, he acquitted himself rather limply, as he slowly poured himself into his seat, with a silent sigh stifled through his nostrils. There was a sort of tension in the air, and for once, he thanked the stars for it being so, since he had a moment to close his eyes and have his brain rest for a couple of moments before he started to write his first sentences in his mind. When his cold, piercing gaze was unraveled by his eyelids, his long maw opened to talk.

"Before you present to me your matters of utmost importance, I'd like to point out that my stay has accumulated a fortnight. While, our steps were meager, in this timespan, we have managed to gain some strength and invest into our people, our military, and into vital research venues. Thus far, we've done decently. Fine work, my lady and gentlemen." He stared, his voice rather raspy and absent.

"Our focus now is to recover some of the currency we've invested into our initial plans. We'd might require to implement higher taxes and raise the price of our exports, since it would be ludicrous to disband our military when we're but a small force, or rescind our interest in research, for the sake of having our chests filled with gold. That prospect may sound rather abysmal to some, but right now, we're investing in the future. Having gold in the moment to spend away at nothings would prove to be a transient pleasure, at the cost of a permanent loss. Therefore, if I find any other plans brought to the table to be too costly, I'm afraid I will have to reject it."

The heir took a deep breath and stepped away from his chair, so that he could serve himself with a goblet full of water; once he dunked it down his gullet, he filled it again and promptly emptied it. Once he took his seat again, he deflated with a long sigh, his frost-laden gaze washing over every individual present in the chambers.

Fill me with your pity, then. He sourly thought. Or perhaps I think too highly of myself to deserve your sincere apologies and supportive thoughts? Well then. Let's see what business plans you wish to present.

"I'm listening."

[Zamokra41] - Avalon Empire - [MachineSoul]

"A few minutes before, or maybe, when your whole machination started, Cyrus? By the Gods, I swear, I'll have yo-" Aleko growled, the storm that he became completely dismantling the otherwise calculated half-breed, "for fuck's sake, can it with your apologies and start talking!"

He took a few moments to read the letter, his eyes darting from edge to edge, his throat rumbling as he muttered the words to himself, until realization fell upon the top of his head; a cold shiver ran down his heated hide, his fingers unlatched the paper from his grasp as a reaction to what felt like a powerful blow to the gut.

"When?" Was all that he could muster, his voice trembling under the weight of his anger and, perhaps, fear for his beloved parent.

"When!"

The answer came, and it was an infuriating one. He closed his eyes shut, his snarl closing into a silent form of rage, his teeth grinding against each other with enough force to erode the enamel. There was a sense of futility already rising from his situation, the thought of an underhanded attack over the city he was born in only churned his insides and froze his blood. For Aleko, there was no doubt this strike was a premeditated one, especially since it was the Stainless Empire of all possible assailants to have trampled over his birth place, of all possible provinces that could be overtaken. There was no valuable resource there, nothing in particular to attract an invading force, at least, nothing that would interest the heir.

"Call all available generals for an emergency meeting." He uttered, facing the door in preparation to storm his way towards the war room. "We have to muster a liberating force and push the Stainless out."

But the wizard did all that he could to keep the half-breed from rushing into a blind charge, having to manhandle the heir to have him stop and listen. He refused to even look up at the elderly man, his gaze affixed unto his own boots. Cyrus insisted that they had to think of a plan and a better moment to move in and liberate the province, but Aleko's fiery rage was yet to be reduced to embers.

"Plan? How many more plans do you have in store that I am not aware of, Cyrus?" He asked, his tone still a rumble of his throat, but words perfectly articulated for the old wizard to understand. "You could at least tell me about my origin before I take my leave. Gods, I don't know where I will go, I'm a deserter in the eyes of the Independent Anthro Forces, I have to bloody run for my life and become a mercenary, thanks to your brilliant machinations! You've ruined me!"

To this, the wizard had cast a spell of sorts that he isolated them from, pretty much, everything else. There was indeed an uneasy sensation, as everything around them faded into monotony and silence, save for the sounds emerging from the two wrapped inside the bubble.

"Gods, I swear, you will not make it alive out of this chambers if you won't stop it with this madness."

Then, finally, the truth arrived. The heir listened intently, but as much as he tried to remain unfazed by the massive reveal, his eyes bulged and his jaw dropped slightly as he found out that his father indeed made it alive, albeit him being ready to be entombed. With everything else, his mother agreeing to form the union, her wanting to become an apprentice of his, they were all strong blows that had the heir dismantle his aggressive attitude, to allow an exhausted one to surface.

That is why he felt so familiar to me, thought Aleko, his eyes drooping from tiring himself out, he must have visited mum when I was an infant.

And now, this woman he considered to be the bravest of them all, had grown much, much more in the eyes of a hopeful child. Again, he felt helpless in the face of this peril that threatened his mother, and he could simply not imagine what she was going through right now. He could only hope that she hid somewhere, that she still had the wits around her to slither away from danger and maybe, maybe, Cyrus indeed have taught her a couple of tricks to keep herself alive. She must be alive, she was no weakling to tremble in fear under the boot of a band of fanatical purists. Aleko knew that this was a personal attack from the Stainless, he simply knew it; therefore, the Stainless had just painted a large target upon their backs, and the heir was more than sure he would pursue it and strike it down.

"If you leave, I leave." He stated, tiredly. "But if I leave, you leave too, and my mother would still be in danger. She trusted you enough, as for my trust, you've shattered what ever figment of it I had. We'll see about your deception some time later, but now, we've an empire to grow. Tomorrow, I want you to bring me a report, a feed-back from our population in regards to their demands and desires. If the envoys have no matters to discuss tomorrow, I want you to rally them to the council chamber so I can have a word with them, and you are to join it too."

"I-" he cleared his throat, throwing a furtive glance at Cyrus's robes carefully, to avert his watered eyes, "I will have a word with general Planestalker. Afterwards, you'll find me in my personal chambers."

Said and done, the heir left, rather unsure on his own feet. Immediately, he searched out the general, and upon finding him in the large dining hall, he pulled the dark elf aside with little regards as to what he was doing before the heir requested his attention. It was a desperate time for him, thus, Aleko had momentarily dropped the respect towards a higher ranking officer to make a personal request, which hopefully, the elf would understand. The heir made sure to present all the details, and the implications of the invasion of Zeiserberg.

"...therefore, I will ask of you to send infiltrators to the province and keep watch over the activity of the Stainless. If any opportunity of subterfuge, or sabotage appears, they are to take it; if they could even inspire rebellion, let it be so, make the invasion force have a hellish time keeping the province occupied and under controlled. Furthermore..." the heir swallowed dryly.

"Should they find clues about my mother, they are to immediately pursue them. Should they, gods be merciful, find her, they are to contact her with the following words: 'flakes of white make the fur go bright, frowns and growls make a pup go wild'. I am aware it sounds ridiculous, but, she will know that it is I who's sent the infiltrators." He even went the length to write down the motto for the general.

That was all that he could do, and it pained him, as he sat slumped in an armchair in his chambers. That day, he did not eat, or drink; the heir refused to leave his chamber, unless something required his immediate attention. He didn't have any other bursts of energy to consume on a hapless target, rather, he boiled himself in his own fears and doubts inside his own room. This was a position he never experienced before as a soldier, or as a person, all of it was completely new to him.

And I better get used to it, he told himself, his fingers rolling a ball of paper against the surface of his desk, there is no honor in war and diplomacy, much less from such scum. I have to swallow this attack, for now, but they mustn't mistake my patience with submission. For when they will be at my boots, begging for my patience and mercy, they will know that I remember.

He fell asleep sometime late in the night, but it was hardly a fitful slumber, with his thoughts keeping him mostly awake. But, the next day had to arrive, him being prepared or not, and his empire required its emperor.

The search for bravery

Greetings all. I hail from lands afar, therefore, my written English may confuse some of the denizens of this place.

What I am looking for is a partner willing to join me in a quest of personal discovery, while facing the hardships imposed by a medieval dark fantasy world. Peril hides after every corner, it lays in the tightest of nooks and crannies, it skulks in the dark, but it may yet be defeated by a pair of fearless fighters, a bold duo set out to undo wrongdoings and enjoy the spoils.

Such would be the life of an adventurer in a perfect world, no? Unfortunately, where I want to drag us, such pleasantries would be a distant, happy dream. Wounds do not magically heal themselves, practical armours and weaponry are paramount to survival, magic is accessible but not exploitable. Monsters are a dire sight that freezes blood itself in one's vessels; the common foe poses mortal danger, let alone an ungodly abomination rooting from the darkest corner of one's fear-infested mind.

To give away any hints of the story I have prepared, would spoil much of the plot. Any word, or sentence at all, would take away from the wonder of discovery, be it astonishing or downright terrifying. I only hope that the paragraph above will, more or less, set the tone and attract anyone that would be interested.

I should point out some of the things that I expect from my partner:

• Literacy. I require well-structured sentences, proper grammar and spelling. Coalescing sentences that are pleasant to read is an ability that wins a huge plus in my book.
• Substance. One liners are the worst. One paragraph, depends on the context. More than one paragraphs, excellent. Walls of text? So long said wall-of-text contains important points about the development of your character (which should occur naturally under the context of the situation), a happy chap I will be.
• Realism. That kicks out any god-tier weaponry, abilities, knowledge, etc. There's no fun if there's no challenge, more so when anything can kill you. Also, no one will be your friend when your actions determine others to raise questions about your morality and motivations.
• Cooperation. Contribute to the story, surprise me, make me enjoy and crave for your posts. As a GM and PC, I will do my best to deliver my story to your liking, without compromising quality and originality. If you are reading this, I must congratulate you for taking a part of your time to read through my rambling. If by the end of this you find yourself still interested, send me a private message that contains with your favorite medieval weapon.
• Maturity. Blood, gore, nightmarish fiends and situations, we have 'em. BUT, in a tasteful manner. This isn't a torture porn sort of thing, but if one lodges their axe into the shoulder of their enemy, blood would surely gush out, severed muscles would dangle and tendons would rupture, maybe there is even a bit of bone chipping. There will be darker things still, but we will talk about those when the time arrives, since I do not want to offend or traumatize either. Speaking about maturity...
• Adult themes. This is a big question mark. I don't really find its place in the story, but if things evolve naturally and it leads up to such intimate interactions, I'm fine. Details will be discussed.
• FUN. All of the above are voided if one can't find enjoyment in playing the role of a hero surviving in a dangerous world. If at some point FUN levels dwindle, please, do tell me so I can tinker at the story and boost up the FUN gauge.

That would be the gist of things. I expect thine applications with impatience. I thank ye for thine patience, and appreciate thine determination to read the post through. This one can only hope to repay thine wasted time with a unique experience.

'ey, b0ss!

ey b0ss, i hab a cansur

K-9 5-0 - [Kimi & MachineSoul]

The enthusiasm his new officer displayed only brought a ball of mixed emotions in his canine gut. He pushed himself away from his seat and went over to the waitress to pay for his own part of the meal, all while the cogs in his mind spun and tinkered; clearly she was a rookie, she had very little clue on how to treat a K-9 unit, but that did not mean she wouldn't learn from her colleagues. The enthusiasm she portrayed endeared him, but also concerned him, knowing that this sort of energy would fade abruptly once she would hit a hard wall. It would be that hardship that would determine who she really is, and quite unfortunately, Miles was convinced that it would not end happily.

[i]Might as well enjoy it while it lasts[i], he thought bitterly, once she learns that she's got a leash and a whip in her hands, there'll be nothing to stop her from turning me into Kommissar Rex.

The canine adjusted his belt as he got out of the locale, immediately throwing his gaze left and right to scan the area for any possible threat; his augmented senses helped him to identify any odd smell floating in the air, but thankfully, there was no peculiar odor to attract his attention. The same as always: sweat, gasoline, farts, smelly underwear, nose-chapping eau de toilette, but no dubious substance. He could hear activity from quite a distance, but it would mostly be the usual racket a bustling city would give off. Finally, he had to rely on his eyes to look for anyone especially dubious; thanks to his experience, the ones who either smelled particularly bad, or of very cheap cologne, were the ones he would have to identify by their looks. Again, nothing particularly out of the order. None of these were done in a conscious manner, Miles had trained enough to do everything out of reflex, while hiding it all with an inconspicuous demeanor.

To keep this demeanor, he completely refused to take the passenger's seat and instead, hopped on the back seat. Before Christa could complain about it, the canine made sure to interrupt her mid-sentence, knowing that he could still be bold enough to talk over a police officer:

"This isn't your patrol car, darling." Miles commented, sighing as he stretched his legs across the back seats. "Someone else will take this enforcer, and once they do and find strands of my fur on the shotgun side, they'll search for you. Then, they'll get to me."

"Now I know, we can forget about the mutt, he'd get away with a beating and some off-time pinned next to the kennel. But, you will also get sanctioned, and believe me, you don't want to be viewed as a sympathizer. You'll be dead within a day, then reemployed at McDonald's the day after."

[Zamokra41] - Avalon Empire - [MachineSoul]

DAY 9

Morning caught Aleko wide awake, him suffering from restlessness after the passing of a tumultuous day; his shoulder joint still stung him in all the most unpleasant ways, but at least he wouldn't return home with a scar to tell about his little bout. With his fur clean, his garments strapped to his body under the weight of a plate suit, his long sword hanging stiffly from his waist and the rifle strapped on his good shoulder, the shepherd made his way to the courtyard of the newly acquired fortress to meet with his two generals, receive their reports and head home. It took a couple of hours for the dwarven general to make his appearance, who had only the best of news coming from the hometown they recently annexed along with the province. With nothing else needing his personal attention there, the emperor pulled out the peculiar stone general Bulkwyn handled him, giving it a firm squeeze in his leather-gloved hands.

"Well, we may have this, but master Cyrus didn't leave any instru-" once more, he found himself interrupted by a sickening sensation of becoming nothing but outspread matter for a fraction of a second, then, regain his physical form within the next fraction in a completely new environment.

Of course, he did recognize the study as soon as his eyes adjusted with the lighting and distance of objects in the room he had been teleported in, but just under a second ago the chilly air was chapping away at his wet nostrils, the earthy soil of the courtyard lightly sinking under his weight replaced by a creaking hardwood floor. The halfling had to blink a few times to adjust himself to the new surroundings, his stomach taking a rather hard blow that left him winded. To Bojor's groan, he could only nod.

"I'll never get used to-" Aleko then loudly cleared his throat after swallowing a sip bile "-I'll never get used to this."

Now, he was aboard his new home after a worthy success. As he walked over to his quarters, steel clattering against the hallways as he made his way through the half-familiar corridors, his shoulders slowly dropped as tension slowly made out of him, his body now adjusting to the non-combat status.

But I can't help it he thought, it doesn't feel right. I did this one for myself, not under some orders of any sort. Well, I've done it for the people too, but those people respond to my calls. I'm not made for this. This Empire isn't mine.

The shepherd groaned and shook his head once he was in the confinements of his quarters; he loosened every strap that held his suit of armor on him and slid his body out, his pores and furs feeling most grateful for being released from under the constant pressure and stiffness of padded clothing. A nice, hot bath would definitely help him to soak his muscles loose and finally relax.

And this why it all feels odd. Everything is offered to me on a silver platter and I still don't know exactly why.

Before he could get to the wash closet, he noticed the plaque, a hard, cold knot rolling down his throat as he read the names of those who had lost their lives to bring him to such luxury. It felt ever worse. But clarity hit him once he had finished bathing, a sort of a queer idea running through his mind, but at the same time, a sound, well-mannered decision. By the time he had dressed in more comfortable, yet, still nobly attires, the wizard had showed up to greet the heir and congratulate him for his victory. It indeed was weird for the canine to learn that the rumors spread alarmingly fast, which only meant that the secrecy of their actions could only be taken in a very narrow time frame before all the wrong attention will be upon them. Master Cyrus was certainly proud about the success, adamantly reminding Aleko that the true empire would finally make its glorious return.

You're clinging to a dream like a heavy anchor, old man.

Then, Scribe made its appearance, bless it. Aleko felt an eerie charm about the skeletal being as it showed enthusiasm about him too, in its own way. Poor child. Which reminded him:

"Master Cyrus", Aleko started, "I have a request from you, if you'll allow me to appeal to your resources. I-" he cleared his throat once more before he turned his gaze over to one of the large windows viewing the world below "-I can't help but to feel rather uneasy in this fortress. Leaving aside the accommodation issues that I am still struggling with, there is this sense of- I can only describe it as if I feel I do not deserve all this, at least, I feel uncomfortable having all this luxury all by myself."

"As such, I wish to bring someone aboard the Escalyber to share this luxury with me, someone that deserves it more than I do for all the efforts and hardships they had to endure for my mere existence. Cyrus, I would like to ask you to find my mother and have her brought to me. She deserves to be treated as the mother of an emperor, therefore, I will not have her on Freedom Island a day no more."

“Your... mother?” Cyrus pondered for a brief moment before giving his answer. “Of course... She is welcome here. I will send word and arrange for her to be brought here as soon as possible. I assume she currently lives in one of the provinces from Freedom Isle, no?”

"That is correct." The canine answered, nodding to the wizard. "From her last letter, I understand that she has retreated to a cottage in the province of Zeiserberg, at the outskirts of its capital city. Here." Aleko reached for a pocket, from where he pulled a small golden medallion with a couple of emerald finely-cut stones which he offered to Cyrus.

"In case she will be reluctant to follow you, show her this. Once you show it, heh, there will be very little in her way to find me. I'd bet a couple of hundred she would walk the distance." He stated with a small smile, the features of his beautiful mother passing through his mind in one of his most treasured childhood memories.

Before their discussion concluded, Cyrus had brought to his attention that only he would be able to discover the motivations of his generals and and envoys. That brought a frown upon Aleko's forehead and a pout of frustration. He brought his hands from his back unto the sill of the large window and lowered his weight upon them.

Bastards, he thought bitterly, his fingers tapping the metal, you were too afraid to reveal your intentions. Too afraid to even lie to me, lest I would have caught you later. Or Cyrus might be hiding their opinions from me. The canine snorted disdainfully as he pushed himself away from the window and turned towards the throne, walked towards it and stopped right in front of it.

They never really work fully in your favor, do they? Up here, there's no such thing as loyalty. It's partnership. Quid pro quo. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. I am curious, what would happen if I were to pull a couple of rugs from under some people's feet?

He tapped his fingers against the throne's arm rest before he left.

DAY 10

The same tap pattern could now be heard vibrating through the heavy table in the council room. The emperor, dressed in dark blue garbs that contrasted will with his white fur and piercing gaze, appeared relaxed, yet, very present within the discussions held at the table. He only moved his eyes to meet Marcus's own as he addressed himself to the emperor. To his question, Aleko nodded slowly.

"Yes." He uttered in a lax tone.

He had to keep an open ear and mind to the following discussion, as the talk of Mage-Trees seemed to touch a few sensible spots here and there, especially since a number of ethical issues have been raised on how to handle the odd resource. Of course there were clashing opinions, the high elf envoy became a nuisance in a very short amount of time since he had opened his mouth, but Eamon struck a nerve in Aleko. To him, it became very clear that the anthro was there for personal gain, knowing that the transport of the trees and the production of sap would fill his hefty vaults with more gold. With ideas here and there, thoughts and opinions thrown around like paper pellets, it soon came time for him to have the final say in the matter. He glanced to his left and right, noticing the envoys waiting for his conclusion. The halfling sighed and tapped the table once more.

"Master Groverunner." He called, his eyes immediately darting towards the elf. "Believe me when I say that I understand your reluctance about the nature of those trees, their properties and the means of obtaining them. I know that it bears a great insult towards your culture and I'd like to have a quick discussion about that. Allow me to formulate an analogy." Aleko cleared his throat and straightened his back.

"Most of us here enjoy consuming meat, am I not right? Fowl, pork, beef, venison, you name it, most of us do. Us, carnivorous anthros, enjoy meat too, oh, we do love it, especially if it's prey meat. For a wolf, prey could mean a pig, a boar, a stray sheep, even a deer. But it took us several thousand years to evolve from what we would now consider cannibalism. Due to that issue, all natural prey anthros are now very reluctant about natural predators, not to mention any form of meat. Yes, even from un-evolved livestock."

"But have they imposed this reluctance on other races that consume meat on a daily basis? No, that is because they understand that for some organisms, it is impossible to live without meat. Try keeping your children on vegetables only diet and they will die in a matter of weeks. What I mean to say is that, although it is highly troubling and deeply disturbing for them to see their lesser kin slaughtered for food, they understand the necessity of the act and accept the usefulness of the resources obtained from livestock."

The emperor then lands his palm against the table, pushing himself on his feet, allowing him to stride around the table at a slow pace.

"Which brings us to the issue at hand. Those trees, let me tell you, disturb me as well; yet, it would seem that the properties of its sap could grant us quite some advantages. The humans have discovered that it may be used as a healing balm, the anthros have found it may be conversed into a sedative gas, both of which may bring significant advance in medicinal practice and science. With these on the table, Master Groverunner, you find it more ethical to deny life and salvation from the wounded and sick in favor for an edict put in practice by ancestors long gone and dead?"

Yes, I'm painting a big bull's eye on your back, elf. He thought to himself. You'd better start thinking progressively if you don't wish to be replaced.

"Master Weissnout's proposition sounds better to me, under a few conditions: saplings are to be distributed in equal number to our human and anthro allies, so that Winterpeak may further their studies and obtain the aforementioned balm, and Freedom Island to concoct the gas. Which brings us to the second condition: you may not arm your troops with this sleeping gas just yet. I will allow you to manufacture and test it- here's my third condition -in clinics for surgical procedures that requires the patient to be fully sedated. If you two prove that this sap can be safely used as a balm and as a sedative, you two will have won yourself eternal gratitude for creating a project that could save millions of lives."

"Therefore, you are to collect the sap, destroy the trees as you see fit, share the saplings and start studying. Under no conditions are you to use those saplings for anything other than the production of more magical sap, or I will see that the Emerald Council will pay you a personal visit. Any other questions?"

---

The Ice Trolls were on the move and wreaking havoc, a rather frightening thought. For some reason, though, Aleko found it amusing enough for him to choke a smirk. But all of the amusement he felt was soon bashed away by Groverunner's less than subtle attitude towards the situation.

When captain Riley told us that elves stick their ears into every little issue that isn't theirs, I thought he was only being a racist knob, the shepherd sighed as he drew attention upon himself with several taps on the table, I hate it that he was right. I need to deal with this folly with a firm hand; I am in control, not the elves.

"Master Groverunner," Aleko uttered, throwing a stern look at the elf, "I see that you wish to extend your authority over other nations' governments and internal affairs. Why won't you take a seat in my stead, then?" He lifted his eyebrows briefly and allowed for a few seconds of silence to pass before he would continue.

"We will have to keep the troll population in check. As I see it, lethal force is necessary in order to keep them under control, at least, for now. And, what I mean by for now, is that we might be able to employ the knock-out gas to sedate the trolls and relocate them. What I am saying is that this situation will be dealt with in two phases: first phase, thin out the population using lethal force with caution, do not render them extinct unless you're forced to do so; second phase, once the anthros manage to concoct a distributable form of this sap gas, you are to sedate the trolls, trap them and have them moved someplace where they will not pester any forms of civilization. Where you will put them exactly, it is up to you to decide, master Cloudkeeper."

With the meeting coming to an end, Aleko headed towards the most quiet part of the fortress, the study. There, his mind could cleanse itself, just by throwing long glances over the neatly arranged bookshelves; the smell, the air itself seemed to calm him down. He found it useful to visit the study after each and every meeting with either the envoys, or the generals, as it would offer him the needed calmness to replay the conversations and review the attitudes of every individual. He certainly took a disliking to the elf envoy today. Luckily, he didn't have enough time to think about it, as Cyrus had made his appearance; perfect, as Aleko would quickly inquire about his mother. No success yet, no wonder, but it should be understandable why the shepherd was so eager to have his mother come on board the Escalyber. It was a much safer place, befit for a woman that had been through a tough life.

Then, Anna made her apparition in the study, promptly bringing up reports for him; she once again apologized for her intrusion, to which the shepherd smiled warmly and shook his hand dismissively. Per master Earthward's request, the emperor made his way to the research chamber quickly after Anna took her leave. Once there, the canine was greeted by the dwarf, the lizardman and the sorrowful chief engineer. These three had a remarkable invention on their desk, one that left the young emperor genuinely excited; Aleko examined every corner and detail of the apparatus, absorbing its shape and mechanisms.

"Of course I approve of this, it's a marvelous invention! I am most impressed by your work, Master Earthward, T'Chun and Reginal. Yes, this must be replicated and deployed, both for civilian and military use." Aleko then stopped and laid a finger on his own lips, lightly frowning. "Though, if we were to lose one of these to the enemies... an encryption method must be found to avoid incidents. But I am sure that will pose no problem for you. Marvelous work indeed. I will see that you are rewarded accordingly."

For a while, though, the image of the anthro haunted the emperor. While he did not want to be too pushy about any issue that wasn't his, it worried him that one of his underlings might be facing potentially dangerous amounts of sadness. He would look into this issue some time later, now he needed to clear his mind some more in the study. Which, in the end, did not quite work in his favor, as he managed to stumble upon a book that seemed to draw his curiosity to no end, so much that he snatched it for himself.

Day 11

Blasted book. Good thing the day was rather easy for the emperor to endure, with two major reports to review and plenty of time to steal incognito naps in between various duties. The one bit of information that made the young emperor sink into himself was that Avalon started to grow aware of his movements. From now, caution had to be exercised, the next few steps had to be subtle and well-mannered. As well-mannered as a foe can be, for that matter. And, there was now word about his mother's whereabouts yet.

Issues are mounting up now, Aleko thought to himself, gazing pensively through the window pane in his personal quarters, my mind needs to remain brisk and crisp.

He turned his attention back to the dismantled rifle in his lap to resume cleaning the dark grey residue that accumulated in all the most impossible nooks, crannies and grooves of the intricate trigger assembly. He sighed and took a quick break to reassess where else the gunpowder had built up, shifting the mechanism into the light in the attempt to find any of the build-up.

I've killed a few days ago, he pondered, I've seen combat again. My shoulder's a bit raw, there's a bruise on my chest. I've struck down men with my blade and shot down others. You do get used to it, so much that it feels like second natures. That's worrying. What... what did my father think of killing?

Day 12

Good reports were coming in, which finally made Aleko react. He'd been doing rather decent so far, even though he had very little idea of what and how emperors should do; of course, the generals played a big role in the success of the operations, but they acted under his supervisions and at his orders. He couldn't help but to feel some pride within him, seeing himself succeed in the boots of his late father. Word of his mother has yet to arrive, which started to worry him; where could she have gone to? Even if she weren't in the province, someone could easily point where she could have went. If they managed to find him, a woman that's not meant to be hidden would be a lot easier to fetch. Curious.

The letters were related one to another, about the general Asimov he managed to capture during the assault. The vile thoughts that ran through his mind at the moment of capture were long gone, Aleko finding himself a lot more composed and apt to deal with the captive general accordingly and avoid any incidents that would brand him a criminal. Even so, the eyes of many he would still be considered one, just because he bears the name. Sendrakon, thought to have been extinguished in nine-hundred ninety-six, stands now twenty-five years later through his blood.

Aleko choked loudly and starting coughing violently until he spat out the bite of pulled pork that nearly killed him. He was on his feet, his eyes planted on the desk as his mind ran some frantic calculations, each and every time the result would be the same.

"No," he uttered, speaking his mind to himself, "this can't be right. What in the bloody Skerom is... no."

Day 13

"General," Aleko called the man beyond the cell bars, "I would like to have a quick word with you. If you answer me this, your freedom is guaranteed."

The halfling sat down on a chair in front of the cell, his doublet and trousers matching the colors of his eyes and fur.

"I'm not seeking any information about the Old Empire, general, my men have tried enough. This one's more personal." The shepherd leaned against the back of the chair, his gaze never leaving the eyes of the human locked behind the bars.

"On the field, you estimated my age at twenty-seven to twenty-eight. Is that correct, or have I misheard?"

The answer came soon. Aleko found himself grinding his teeth before he pushed the chair away in order to stand up and take his leave.

"Thank you, general. You will be released and sent back home."

Mere moments later, Aleko found the wizard after he rushed down every corridor and room that stood in his way. He left aside the courtesy of greetings and instead pulled the old man with him in his personal quarters and locked the door behind. Aleko threw a fist at the door to vent some of his anger, but seeing it as being insufficient, he also slammed his forehead against the door. But when he turned around, the halfling bore a big smile, one that was a far shot from being warm or friendly.

"Master Cyrus. I believe that the court wizard is the wisest, most knowledgeable individual within a noble infrastructure, am I not correct?" Aleko started, leaving very little room for the old man to reply before he continued. "That means, you are most assured that my father, the last of Sendrakon, died in nine-hundred ninety-six; that would prove your knowledge in relatively recent history, correct?"

"Good. We are currently in year one thousand twenty-six, gods bless us to see this year. Now, being a wizard, one could assume that calculus is also a feat of yours, no? So, let's see, if we subtract nine-nine-six from ten-hundred twenty-six, we obtain... ah, thirty! Well, quite easy, is it not? If you add thirty to nine-nine-six, you obtain one thousand twenty-six. Good, good, so we are proficient in this department too, no?"

"How about biology, Master Cyrus? Surely, one would know that all humanoid races bear their offspring in the womb for roughly nine to eight months, am I not correct? Of course I am. How do I know?"

Aleko, which strode around in a calm demeanor, suddenly launched a kick at a chair, hurling the object against a wall; the wooden furniture loses the bout, dismantling and splintering all over the floor.

"I know for certain that my mother didn't carry me five years in her womb, Cyrus!" Shouted Aleko, snarling and growling viciously. "Unless my father in fact survived the purge, I don't see how it happened, Cyrus! Are you following me? How in all the fucking gods' names am I here? Did his ghost fuck my mother during her sleep, Cyrus? Does my mother crave decomposed cocks? Or are you a sore liar looking for a scapegoat for your ambitions?" Aleko stepped up to the elder, raising a finger.

"I told you. If I found something, anything suspicious, I leave. How about you become sincere for once and tell me where is she. Where is my mother?" Aleko slammed his fist against the table and snapped his fingers repeatedly afterwards in front of the wizard's nose.

"Where. Is. My. Mother! Focus, Cyrus, focus on the truth and tell me!"

Superheroics 101

I am alive and relatively well. Life hits hard in the gut when you least expect it. But it's about time I shake the dust off these steel knuckles and get to clobbering baddies. If I'm still in, that is.

Superheroics 101