Jakunen

Ruins and Runes

"Yes, we can walk before the rain comes, and then get caught in the downpour, or we can set up camp now and stay dry." Johannes paced around with his lantern, picking out two trees sufficiently close together. Digging in his backpack again, he took out a length of rope and circled it first around one tree trunk, then stretched it over to the second tree. Once the rope was sturdy and in place he grabbed the tarp back from Ezra and draped it over the rope.

"You kids are welcome to continue walkin'. I'm staying here till sunrise." Johannes made no mention of what Ezra should or could do, likely assuming the scribe wouldn't just walk away now.

Holding the lantern high, Johannes peered around before stalking off in another direction. With a grunt, he dragged back a heavy log and used it to weigh down one end of the tarp, pinning it to the ground. He circled the camp again, looking for some other heavy object for the other end of the tarp.

Ruins and Runes

"Spot." Johannes repeated to nobody in particular, then fell silent again. He was grateful the children were not the talkative yappy kind. He much preferred the sound of his own even breathing and any occasional huff from the dog.

Moving far enough from the outpost to be out of everyone's sight didn't make him relax. He trudged on and on through the dusk, and only once it was completely pitch black did his pace slow. He didn't stop entirely, only slowing enough to make quiet conversation with the others.

"We should make camp for the night."

Finally Johannes stopped in his tracks, taking a deep breath. Everything smelled like petrified wood, dust, and dampness. Sliding his backpack off one shoulder, he swung it around to his front and unzipped it. Pulling out a folded cloth tarp with a quiet rustle, he zipped the backpack back up and slung it over his shoulder again. He held the tarp out to Ezra, smacking him in the chest with it so the boy could grab it in the darkness.

"Hold this. Don't lose it. That's our cover." Johannes dug in a pocket for something, and shortly thereafter was a scratch, then sudden flame! He had struck a match, which barely illuminated the area. It wasn't until he held it to a wick inside a small folding metal lantern did the group have much light to see anything at all.

"Hurry now. We'll find something to string this between. It doesn't have to be fancy, just enough to keep the wind and the rain out."

Ruins and Runes

Johannes made no movement to indicate he was listening to Ezra, or that he even heard the scribe talk. However, he did respond in a low murmur the next time he peered off in Ezra's direction, trying to speak too quietly for Morgen and Morwen to hear: "He stepped over quick. Too quick. Keep your eyes on the kids. Don't let them catch you off-guard. Only observe for now."

It was suspicious to Johannes the way that damn mage made a beeline for two dirty Wasteland rats. Orphans, he called them - how much did that agent actually know about the children and their family? Was that true, or a bluff? But more importantly - why did he know anything at all? It was no secret the Miraculum had recruiters; that's why the Bloodhounds sent him out here to begin with.

In theory he could just chalk this encounter up as a success, put another notch on the stock of his gun, and move along.... but these damn kids! Were they accomplices and mages themselves? Really just Wasteland rats? He couldn't risk leaving any loose ends unattended.

Johannes looked over at Morwen when she inquired about their travel plans. "North. For now." He didn't slow his pace or offer any more information yet. He would have to somehow butter them up a little bit. He hated small talk and socializing enough as it was, but with children? What did children even talk about? He'd have to think of something to say eventually...

"What's the dog's name?" He glanced over at the girl again, then at the dog. Even when growling, Johannes still preferred the company of the dog over the children.

This was going to be a hell of a long trip.

Ruins and Runes

Ignoring the dog, Johannes glowered at Morgen. For a moment he considered smacking the child, but decided against it. He didn't have time to discipline children, especially orphans.

"We're leavin'." He said, glancing to Ezra before returning his attention to the girl. "You two can follow if you want to head the same direction. You cause problems, we part ways, got it?"

Johannes didn't allow time for any of them to answer. Patting his side once to reassure himself that his pistol was still in place, he turned on his heel and marched quickly for the nearest gate out of the outpost. He didn't give the inn or its owner a second look.

Pulling his hood up over his platinum blonde hair and tucking his ponytail in place, he kept his eyes up and alert. He scanned every direction around him for threats of whatever kind, walking quickly with long strides. Those children had pissed him off and he was hoping for a quick opportunity to dump them somewhere. What did those snot-nosed brats expect, him to just stab a random stranger in an inn? No, that would never work. He had to force the Miraculum to show its hand before striking. Otherwise he was just another bandit.

Ruins and Runes

Johannes gave his scribe a slightly suspicious side-eye stare. He didn't know his assigned partner at all and had doubts the boy would be able to keep up the pace.... but he probably couldn't get away with leaving him at the outpost. The boy would probably go crying back to the Bloodhounds to complain. At least the boy was bright enough to realize they had to leave.

Before he could say anything to Ezra, those rugrats were at his knees again. Not literally at his knees, but that's how he pictured all children - especially scrawny ones found at outposts. He stared down at the girl as she spoke with a wavering voice, his light grey-blue eyes no doubt lacking any warmth if she looked up to his face. Getting thanked was rare and welcome, but the plea to escort them was met with a snorted laugh.

Looking over the girl and her companions - at least the dog looked smart - he motioned toward Morgen while still looking at Morwen. "What's wrong with him? Is he dumb, blind, or all o' the above?"

That was another thing he hated about the Wastelands. Tag-alongs and burdens.

Ruins and Runes

Johannes felt a twinge of pleasure as he felt his knife slice through Bast's throat. It was a good feeling, one that made him feel oddly powerful and alive knowing that some twisted son of a bitch was dead at his hand. The feeling was like electricity in his veins. The blood that splattered across his arm and chest was like a temporary badge of honor.

He didn't have time to dwell on it - the fire was spreading and out of control, and he was sitting inside a tinderbox. A quick tug at the strap of his backpack ensured all his belongings were still on him, and that was good enough for him. Dashing for his table, he grabbed on to Ezra and shoved him once roughly toward Rali's open window. "Move!" Either the scribe would get the hint to follow, or he'd burn. This would make for a good first test.

Johannes dashed toward the window, grabbed on to the frame, and hoisted himself out. He tucked and rolled onto the hard ground, landing with a grunt, but he scrambled to his feet right away. Despite the growing flame, he waited at the window, figuring Ezra would need a hand climbing out. A quick glance around ensured the staff and the kids were out as well.

Johannes bounced on his toes a bit as he waited for Ezra. Shit had hit the fan, and he wanted out of this outpost now. He never stuck around to see if anyone would thank him for disposing of mutants or Miraculum members; he never knew who would be thankful and who would be angry. This was especially the case when property damage happened. No doubt the tavern-keeper would be livid that her livelihood was turning to ash.

At least maybe that bad vibe would go away.

Ruins and Runes

The corner of Johannes' mouth turned down as his nostrils flared. Showy displays of magic always irritated him, but using magic to threaten people was downright disgusting. The tavern-woman's flight with her hapless barmaid and the rugrats scrambling away barely registered - he was too focused on Bast. Johannes took a single sliding half-step backwards so that the flames wouldn't touch him, but he kept as close to Bast as otherwise possible.

It came as a surprise to Johannes when the kids didn't simply scurry away. He had not expected the girl to make a move, to do something as risky as go for his ankles. Not when it meant leaving that dumbfounded-looking boy unattended and wasting precious seconds they could be using to put distance between themselves and Bast. Suspicions and curiosity rolled around in his head, but that was for later.

When the girl slashed at Bast's ankles, Johannes took advantage of this opening. Reaching to a slim leather pocket-sheaf on the side of his dark brown cargo pants, he wrapped his fingers around something. In a flash, he had it out - a long knife with a handle like a pair of brass knuckles - and he didn't hesitate for a second.

Johannes lunged forward, disregarding the flames, and slashed at Bast's throat.

Ruins and Runes

Johannes hated everything about every Wasteland outpost he had ever visited. The rooms were too hot. The food was too bland. The drink too bitter. The bathwater too cold. The people too crude.

But most of all, he hated the Miraculum.

They had a special rotten vibe, those sorts of mages. He could never put his finger on what caused it, but it sure as hell was strong with this one. Bast, they called him. Short for bastard, probably.

Johannes kept his eyes on Bast and his hands on the table at first, observing. The cocky little bastard ignored him like he was a lampshade. Just the way he liked it. He was almost content to watch a moment longer until he approached the young kids.

Not just any bastard, but a sick bastard too.

Johannes leaned over to Ezra and dropped his voice to a barely audible whisper. "Stay here." He ordered, then slid out of his seat.

Unlike before when he had entered, Johannes kept his steps light and impossibly silent as he approached Bast from behind. Getting close enough to speak to the scumbag in a low voice - that damn smell, it was awful this close - he murmured to Bast.

"Best be removin' your hands from that kid now."

His voice was firm, steady, and cold, yet it had a drawl to it. It was an order, not a request.

Ruins and Runes

Hearing the tavern-keeper snap at someone again, he glanced that direction. The rugrats were sharing a table, eyes downcast like they were in trouble. He wasn't surprised. He also wasn't interested. He had a scribe to find.

Thankfully the tavern wasn't busy, and he spotted the man right away. Much to his dismay, his scribe looked like less of a man and more like a boy. Was he even old enough to be on assignment out here, and out of the academy? There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. More kids. He didn't want to babysit, he wanted to finish this assignment.

Johannes strode over to Ezra's table like he owned the place. His thick soled boots, probably once black but now dusty from travel, clunked against the old wooden floor. Tall, broad-shouldered, and muscled, he no doubt stood out from the rest of the outpost's population simply because he didn't look sickly or starving. In the warmth of the tavern he unbuttoned his hooded brown jacket, revealing underneath a brown leather vest, and under that, a thin cotton shirt. The shirt seemed to have once been grey but now it was just the color of Wasteland dust and sweat.

Inviting himself, Johannes took a seat right next to the scribe. "Ezra." He leaned in close enough to the scribe that he could lower his voice. It was not so much of a question on his part as it was an answer to Ezra's lost look. "You're late. Do you have what you need?" As Johannes leaned close enough, Ezra would be able to see that there was a holster at Johannes' side, concealed by the vest and jacket. A metal-and-wood handle poked out of it - no doubt some kind of firearm.

Ruins and Runes

Name: Johannes van Kanne
Alias: Ghost
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Hair: Platinum-Blonde, stick straight, and thick. He keeps it tied up behind his head in a loop with whatever suitable material he can find. If let down, it reaches well past his shoulders.
Eye: Grey-Blue

Family: Unknown. He has no memory of who his biological family are.
Affiliations: Hunter with the Bloodhounds.
Home: None - he goes where the Bloodhounds send him rather than put down roots.

Magic: N/A
Inventory: Johannes carries a long pistol that has been repaired and reassembled repeatedly and keeps it holstered at his side, hidden under his vest. His backup weapon is a knife with a handle made like a pair of brass knuckles.




Combat: Johannes' favored fighting style is from a short distance and behind cover while using his pistol. Since his pistol is not accurate at very long distances, he is adept at hand-to-hand fighting out of necessity. Up close, his combat style employs lots of dirty tricks - sand to the eyes, biting, kicks to the groin, anything to gain an edge so that he can get in a good stab.

History: Johannes was raised by an elderly Bloodhound hunter that retired due to injury. Johannes joined the Bloodhounds himself at age 18 and trained to be a hunter. He has been working as a hunter ever since.

Other: Johannes is a gunsmith, skilled at repairing firearms. He also knows how to reload his own ammunition, given the proper materials. He's good at moving quietly without being seen or heard behind/under cover. He also likes explosives when sneaking isn't an option.

Below are some references/inspiration for Johannes' clothing and appearance.