Hale

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Jean looked down to the almost empty glass in his hand, setting it aside rather than finishing it. His blue eyes flashed to the blonde sitting across from him, she was dressed handsomely and quite beautiful and earlier he had noted the faint hint of an accent. For a moment he wondered how she would decide before glancing away to the farmer and the olive-skinned violinist, what a queer bunch, he thought with an amused smirk. Both men seemed eager, perhaps their motivation to kill surpassed his own personal vendetta. That did not mean much, though, blood can be shed so easily but revenge had to be fostered over many years of patience.

When she did speak, he paid close attention until she was finished and noted a touch of hesitation. "Ich denke, ich kann von Hilfeleistungen sein." He announced with a smile before shaking his head, "My apologies, I can help in this matter. I spent some time around Jerry, which I hope is adequate enough." there was nothing for him to hide but still he left his part of the war where it belonged; in the past.

"I will make the necessary arrangements so that I can see this deed done," He paused as a second thought came to mind, "...however, I will not accept payment. Death is the price I ask, for twelve names I ask for one." It might not have been the wisest move on his part to make demands but the opportunity was too good to be passed on. These men had ways of finding information that he could never hope to, so while he was doing their dirty work they could do his. Straightening out the cuffs on his sleeves, he looked to the Rabbi and studied him for a moment.

"Otto Beck, he was a guard at Stalag VIII-C. A sadist who took pleasure in beating men to death for no other reason than he could, when the war ended his deeds went unpunished at Nuremberg and now he is out of the reach of justice by lawful means." Folding his hands over the other, he felt a chill run through him but let none of it spill outwardly. It was destiny, this meeting, that whatever fates presided were shining down onto him. Twelve men would die, no, twelve beasts who would die as beasts.

"I will help give you justice if you do likewise, and then we will have an accord."

Raguel's List

Will do, I might have something up in a couple of days.

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Post is up and I'm excited to see what unfolds.

Raguel's List

"So that's it, then?" Jean Lemieux broke the silence while briefly rapping his fingers against the surface of the conference table, timidly avoiding the glass of Scotch that he had graciously accepted when the group had met for the first time. When meeting Captain Farguharson, his first impression that the gathering was some sort of business-related affair had immediately been dispelled. He had arrived that evening in a wool peacoat over a grey tweed blazer, it was chilly and damp as the fog rolled in off the Thames, otherwise he wore dark brown trousers and a white, button-down shirt and black loafers. Ste. Christina as a name meant as much to him as the other villages that he had passed through while en route to Stalag VIII-C, though it's sordid history struck an all-too-familiar chord with him. Pausing to reflect on what had been said over the course of the briefing, his eyes passed to the others who were gathered and finally rested on the nameless rabbi sitting alone in the corner.

"I have a few questions and I feel compelled to ask. What if this becomes another Bormann fiasco? These people could be anywhere in the world, that is if they aren't already dead." Jean toyed with the crystal glass that he had set on a serviette, watching the golden brown contents swirl together with the ice that had melted. It was a shame to waste such a fine Scotch, despite his distaste for whisky in general; he took the glass and took a mouthful of the cool liquor out of respect for the host. It did take a bit of the edge out of the air as he felt the warmth spreading inside him. Shifting to an inclined position in his chair, he continued voicing his concerns over what he considered a rather inauspicious briefing,

"There's thousands of Germans being held by the Soviets, some fled to South America, too. How can we be sure they are alive? The problem is we aren't talking about Eichmann or Mengele, before tonight I've never heard of Ste. Christina." Jean finished coolly before rubbing his forehead sorely, he had a myriad of questions to ask but thought ill of hijacking the floor from the others. He was just as interested in their opinions, these strangers; two Scandinavians and a man who could only be described as of Mediterranean descent. All Europeans, save himself, though what skills they actually possessed was a mystery to him.

Raguel's List

Have we been introduced to one another or will that take place now that the briefing is concluded?

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What an opening! I'll get to work on my post immediately.

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Any idea when this might kick off? I'm in no hurry, just thought I would ask.

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Polyphemus said
Jean Lemieux is accepted, Hale. I really like him, the Canadian presence in WWII is often forgotten. Being a former POW makes a good motivation for him as well.

Thank you, Polyphemus! Like most Canadians, I'm just happy to feel included.

Raguel's List

My character sheet is finally up on the first page, I have touch ups to make but I believe that is closest to being finished. Just let me know if there are any revisions I should make and I will go about doing so. Also, I apologize for the length... at some parts I got a bit carried away.

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Character Sheet Update: I have most of my character's personal history done I'm just smoothing it out!