The New Yorker

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

Well, you are aware that my characters are currently addressing yours? I mean, I'm sorry that your arm is messed up, but it's a little frustrating to have my characters wound up in your inactivity. Know what I mean?

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

So when do you think you'll be able to post?

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

Is Legion still in this?

Spiritum Aeternum; or The Ramshackle Monster Hunters

cider said
My computer is being repaired, typing this from my gf's Ipad.. I'll get it back next week but cant write a cs until then. Just a heads up. :)

Good to know.

Spiritum Aeternum; or The Ramshackle Monster Hunters

Emilio Cicatrise

Name: Emilio Cicatrise (seek-AH-trees)
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Birthplace: Madrid, Spain
Religious Affiliation: None
Secular Affiliation: Blood Pirates, former Spanish nobility
Level of education: High
Social status: Outsider; he was born of high birth but his current office makes him lower than a beggar to some.
Occupation: Pirate, Adventurer

Appearance: Emilio has a solid figure, he’s rather fit and tough. He stands just under 6 feet. His hair is a jet black, generally very straight, usually shoulder length. His skin is a light brown almost gold color. Most would consider him a handsome man with slight angular features which are cooled by his skin tone. He sometimes has a beard, ranging from a shadow to a full beard.

Personality: Emilio is a cool tactician with a penchant for pensivity, generally getting lost in his own thoughts. He can be flirtatious and friendly and charming if he is in a good mood, but generally he allows his prestige and notoriety to work for him in social situations.

Skill set: Swordplay, pugilism, acrobatics, sailing, marksmanship (firearms), navigation, keen observer.
Languages: Spanish (original tongue), Portuguese (fluent), Arabic (fluent), English (okay), French (poor), Latin (passable, remnants from childhood), and German (poor)

Bio: Emilio was born to a Spanish noblewoman Humerta de Vallente who was married off to an even more important Spanish noble, Geraldo Cicatrise, his father was an Egyptian pirate known as Khal al Rushdi. During childhood he was treated as any other Cicatrise child and given all the amenities as if he were the nobleman’s own son. Primarily this was done because Humerta insisted and her family would defend her honor to the death. And so Emilio was cared for. He learned myths and history and languages and horse-riding, and all the other kinds of education a Spanish noble could afford, which happened to be a great deal.

Throughout his entire childhood Emilio was a difficult child. He felt the scorn from his supposed father and he knew that he was different from all of his siblings, and even his own mother; he always felt like an outsider. When he was 12 he learned of his birthfather from his mother, after a heated argument. He felt so relieved to learn about his true father, but the information wasn’t enough, he needed to find him. Emilio hatched a plan at the age of 13 to run from his home and find the pirate father that had left him in this prison. He stole a great deal of valuable jewelry and other things he could sell to make his way. He immediately found a home on a pirate vessel, working as nothing but an errand boy.

By the time he was 18 Emilio had learned so much from his adventures on the high seas, as well as amassed a small fortune. And, he was on the heels of his father. Not long after Emilio found his dad lying on a beach somewhere in the Mideast. Once the old man knew that Emilio was truly his son, he took him aboard his famed vessel, The Blood Brigands. Emilio sailed with his father for 7 years until he was killed during a raid in the Caribbean. Emilio, at this point a wise and fearsome man, took the reins of the ship without issue. He took the ship back to the Mediterranean and set the little sea aflame. He raided all along the coasts there, eventually making his way to the Adriatic where he encountered a sea creature the likes of which no one had ever known.

In the last year of his time aboard the vessel he took the ship to Portugal, where he began causing trouble since the countries forces were wrapped up in dealing with the Spanish. Eventually, as tends to happen aboard Pirate ships, Emilio was mutinied by a trusted ally and thrown overboard right off of the Portuguese coast. He swam back, utterly dismayed by the staggering turn of events, tried to make his way through Portugal. As it happens, he was apprehended in the north and brought down to Sintra, where he was wanted the most. He was destined to have his head chopped off before another twist of fate would turn his luck around.
Notes: Emilio currently has a huge scar on his chest, a new addition. It looks to be a burn scar, in reality it is a mark of his recent encounter with magic.

There is Emilio's CS. I've opened the IC for reading and posting. Everyone who has been accepted, referred to in the cast list, may begin posting.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Hellis said
That was a lovely post. The last few posts have all been terribly vivid and wellwritten.

Thanks dude! And you're completely right. Everyone has really been on their A++ game for these last few posts.

EDIT: That was a totally cool post, AH! Now I'm even more excited for the next installment, whenever it comes.

Elder Scrolls: Terror of the Padomaic

I just want to make it clear, EC, I'm completely against this idea.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

There it is. The prologue of Gabe's story comes to an end.

I can't wait to start the first chapter... in the third chapter...

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Gabriel shook with a discomforting sadness as the incubus leader, and the vampiress he held with his arms and wings, disappeared into nothing before the morning sun. He was sure that nothing would dull the pungency of that moment in his eternal memory. The field was quite aside the low cries of Veti for her lost lover, and the gentle whispers from Henry and Jay-Jay. The Archangel eyed the rubble around his feet, the grass and weeds which tumbled underfoot; the fields afar and the small, rustic, broken house which sat at the edge of his vision. Gabriel smiled then, briefly. He looked again at the trouble around him, his meaninglessness there. After everything seemed to be settled, and all that could be done, had been, Gabriel excused himself and set down the dirt road. He strolled up to the farm house with a boyish shyness, knocked on the door.

The redheaded woman opened the door, the morning sun creeping in through the door, she’d nailed a bedsheet to the roof to cover the hole. The woman smiled when she saw Gabriel, there was a familiarity between them which spanned eons and was, somehow, well-formed. She invited him in for tea and toast, he accepted. And then he fixed her roof—well, he fixed her roof as well as he could. He nailed some boards up and put in a temporary support beam until her son got home. After everything was said and done, and Gabriel felt like he ought to head back to London, he stood and walked toward the door.

“Did you all win?” The woman asked abruptly, they hadn’t actually spoke all that much in the time he spent there.

“Yes,” Gabriel answered as he opened the door, he looked back a little apologetically, “I’m sorry I wrecked your car.”

The woman waved her hand, “pfftt, don’t worry about it, darling. It’s a price worth paying.”

Gabriel looked at the woman with a sort of far off stare, what she said had resonated with him in a way she would never understand. He thought of the price, far higher than the woman could conceive, everyone had to pay in order to take down the despicable, so-called God-Wolf. Some more than others, but everyone that was there through the fight felt the price, it was a collective burden. Gabriel understood that now, and he didn’t know how to thank the woman, he never would be able to. So he just nodded, walked through the door, and closed it gently behind him.

---

*A Year Later*

Gabriel’s hair was tossled in the wind as he drove down the little paved road which yielded to the dirt passage way he’d seen more than a couple of times before. He hadn’t driven himself here more than once before, so he was a little more than please when he was able to make the left turn into it. He held a spliff between his lips and puffed as he made the motions, then drove parallel to the hill owned by the woman he’d come to know and respect, Veti. The two worked briefly as partners after their return from that fateful battle. Gabriel came to know more about her past and her dramatic relationship with Thad/Max. She was a strong woman, and an even stronger agent. But, then she announced the beautiful surprise, she was pregnant, and with twins no less.

Gabriel had worked hard, he showed his usefulness as an fighter, an undercover agent, a leader, a source of an oxymoronic innocent wisdom. Since he worked so hard he was able to afford the classic mustang he drove down the dirt road now. A black and yellow masterpiece, he was quite proud. He’d been working on other things as well. At every opportunity available he would pay Jerusha a visit. They’d built a nice, unassuming relationship which could heat up at any moment, Gabriel felt confident in that.

The Arch angel glanced over to his sword, which sat in the seat next to him, a signal of the steely justice he’d been meting out. He had not, however, forgotten his original mission. The horn His Majesty had sent him sat under his bed at the London HQ, ready to be used when the time was right. And he’d been taking great pains to understand the struggles of the human experience. Gabriel still wasn’t entirely sure what was expected of him, but he was always revitalized when he remembered that his creator had placed great faith in him, in all his wisdom. Gabe smiled as he remembered that now, making the final turn to head up the hill toward the cottage. He discarded the herbal remedy he’d taken to in the ashtray next to him.

Artie ran along the car for a little while, looking at Gabriel every so often, then he ran ahead. Gabe pulled up to the house just as Veti greeted her panting hound. The angel stepped from the car, one pistol holstered on his hip, as he necessitated, and waved to Reginald ahead of his arrival.

“Hey there, old man.” He gave his boss a handshake, smiled warmly. Gabriel looked at the babes nuzzled in Veti’s arms and made baby noises at them, entertaining himself and the little bundles of joy. He found peace here, amongst friends and an adopted family, something he never thought he’d have in all of his desperate dreams.

Spiritum Aeternum; or The Ramshackle Monster Hunters

I'm excited to see the finished product.