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    1. Legion X51 11 yrs ago
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24 years old. British/Scottish. Bachelor of Arts (Honours) in Fighty Studies. Studying MA in Second World War Studies. Wargamer. Submariner in another life.

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So, uh, Jack... could you, um, explain what in the actual bejesus just happened with Jaelnec? XD


Location: Smithy's drug and grocery store, Las Vegas

Time: Evening


Katarina picked up the scent of the new arrivals long before they began their attack. Human blood - such a warm, inviting scent, though she knew these were no ordinary humans - from the rumbling of the engines of their vehicles outside, they meant business. Katarina had had time to familiarise herself with the basics of American society whilst she was around Ben - movies, TV, et cetera. And she knew that humans of the modern day loved nothing more than one thing in a fight; the gun. The guns of today were rapid-firing, able to shoot many different types of bullet, and they were unerringly accurate, unlike the old muskets and flintlock pistols of her era. Kat had had a brush with one of those types prior to this engagement - during her breakout at the museum, when the two security guards attempted to stop her, firing their ineffectual bullets that simply rebounded off her mighty undead flesh. These chaps, though, weren't likely to be quite as easy to take down as the previous types. She could hear their rapid, frantic breathing, their hearts pounding in their chests - hell, she could even hear their blood coursing through their bodies. And so it was, when they gave the order to commence the assault, Katarina was ready. Before even the first grenade had smashed through a window, Katarina had dived for cover behind a nearby aisle, expecting her world to light up before her in a cloud of flame and smoke. She got one, but not much of the other. "Rauchgranaten!" she yelled as the sound of smashing windows and the staccato bark of semi-automatic assault rifle fire filled the air, with clouds of acrid smoke quickly expanding and smothering every corner of the shop. The screams of the poor wretched humans as these new interlopers fired at them - Katarina noted it was at them, not over their heads - quickly drowned out even the deafening shouts and shrieks of rage and surprise that the rest of their group had met this assault with.

Katarina, in contrast, met this attack with icy stoicism. She knew that the largest concentration of the interlopers were at the front of the shop, and likely would have very poor knowledge of where she was - unless they had that strange green vision she'd watched on TV - in the dark back of the shop. Which meant that she had the advantage over them, especially whichever poor untermenschen thought it was a good idea to try and flank them and attack the group from the rear - where she was. She noticed that one of the wolves had taken a bullet already in the immediate volley of fire that had greeted their own response. Don't shout and scream, for God's sake, they'll know where you are! she thought, clenching her teeth in frustration and pent-up rage. And then, she noticed two of the blood signatures were moving towards the rear of the grocery shop. Exactly as she thought - their mission was to surround them, block off any chance of escape, and add to the confusion inside. Kat shoved several of the panicked shoppers to the ground, holding a finger to her lips. It was better for them, and for her, if they just stayed the fuck down. The two that she had earmarked were now close to the rear door... she could smell their fear, their anticipation... what she couldn't hear, however, was the 10 pounds of C4 explosive they had planted on the rear security door to blow it in. Nor could she hear the countdown of the explosives timer... which meant that five long, arduous seconds later, Kat had no idea of the force that was about to strike her.

The door exploded. Instead of it remaining in one piece however, the door splintered, fragments of razor-sharp steel shrapnel hurled everywhere at a frightening speed. The unfortunate shoppers stood no chance. One fragment of shrapnel sliced the head clean off of one shopper huddled next to Kat, bright crimson spraying all across the shoppers nearby, the products on the shelves, and of course, the blood-starved vampire that also just happened to be standing right beside them. Another piece of shrapnel embedded itself in a light fitting, sparks and crackling flying all about, adding yet more acrid smoke and bright lights to an already deafening cacophony of noise, and morass of sights, sounds and smells. Another shopper was disembowelled by another fragment of shrapnel, bloodied intestines spilling out from their sizeable stomach whilst another fountain of crimson liquid sprayed all across the tiled floor. The rear of the shop was quickly turning into a charnel pit. The gunmen at the rear door then followed up, not with staccato semi-automatic fire as they had done so before, but with long bursts of automatic gunfire, hosing down random shoppers with bullets. One fell to the ground next to Kat with a strangled, blood-choked cry of pain, chunks of flesh roughly torn from the person's back where the bullets had struck home.

These fuckers meant business. Unluckily for them, so did Kat.

She had escaped injury from the explosion's shrapnel, but she was still momentarily stunned from the shockwave. However, this she quickly shook off. She bared her fangs in rage, and leapt at the closest soldier, closing the distance in a fraction of a second, perhaps even too quickly for him to comprehend. Her fingernails were like talons, her blood-soaked clothes fuelling her furious assault with the iron-rich smell of humanity's greatest prize. The soldier buckled as she drove her elbow into his throat, collapsing to the ground, wracked with debilitating coughs. Crucially, his assault rifle was on the ground, not in his hands. The other soldier was a problem though. He had had time to turn his attention to her, and was about to raise his weapon to attack. "Stirb, Abschaum!" Though it was in German, the message was clear. She dashed over to him, but in the split fraction of a second it took for her muscles to tense and for her body to leap into action, the soldier was able to fire off a shot. The bullet impacted Kat directly on the right breast, a spear of agonising hot lead driven through her chest cavity. She was momentarily stopped by the force of the impact, but she couldn't halt her momentum, and she rammed into the second soldier with her shoulder, crushing his ribcage and flinging the soldier against the rear wall of the shop. The soldier's head impacted a split second later than his body, the head whipping back and cracking audibly against the wall, blood spattering across the painted plaster. Kat sank to her knees, gingerly feeling at her bullet wound... this one had actually hit her, it had actually penetrated her skin... They had some kind of anti-magic field protecting the area, which had rendered her unholy protection moot. But... it had not hindered her undead constitution, for no sooner had she probed the area of the bullet injury, than the wound began to close. She staggered back to her feet, stumbling over to the coughing soldier. His helmet had began to fill with blood - evidently the injury that he had sustained was slightly more... debilitating than Kat had given the man credit for. A fractured larynx. Not going to heal in seconds, unlike her injuries. She decided to exact revenge on this one.

She picked the soldier up by the legs. He began to flail around, his heartbeat rocketing as he panicked in sheer helplessness and fear. "N-No! P-Please, no!" he was able to stammer out of his helmet as Kat began to wrench the man's legs apart. And then, only then, did he realise what Kat was doing. A final, strangled plea for his miserable life escaped his lips.

Kat ignored him, and lifted him above her head, only to wrench his whole body in half. She began to laugh. And laugh. And laugh...

"Das leben ist gut, meine Freunde! Das leben ist gut!"




Rauchgranaten - smoke grenades
untermensch - scum, sub-human
Stirb, Abschaum - Die, scum
Das leben ist gut, meine Freunde - Life is good, my friends
"Even the Gods Can't Save Us All" - Iridiel's Theme:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ezz-nazThiM

Why this? Iridiel is, as Domhnall put it in the latest post, a "healer first and foremost". But not even the most skilled and powerful healers can save everyone. Iridiel has borne witness to violence, plague and the brutality of mortal life even at her young age, ranging from the deaths of the poorest in society in Thessaleia, to trying to alleviate the suffering of those few Withering victims... to healing people like Angora.

And yet, sometimes not even she can save people. And every time someone dies in her care, it's one more face burned into her memory. One more nameless death that she can never forget.
Errybody sho mean to Angora!

*Angora runs away and sobs, forever misunderstood*
Good luck, and Godspeed Ashgan. Sorry to see you go, would have been nice to have Angora meet Jillian and Gerald.
In the latest post, Angora makes mention of something called the Firm. I thought I'd extrapolate some information about the Firm here.

In essence, the Firm are a business of organised crime. The Firm aren't your regular thieves, thugs, highwaymen, etc. These are men and women who prefer the business side of crime and leave the dirty work to their underlings. The Firm primarily work in Zerul City and the surroundings, and focus on activities such as smuggling, protection rackets, illegal gambling dens, brothels, and assassinations. No, they are not an organisation of Robin Hoods, but nor are they completely senseless murderers and thugs. This is sophisticated organised crime at its highest levels, similar perhaps to the American Mafioso families of the East Coast, or the Yakuza. The Firm have codes of honour, loyalty and brotherhood (or sisterhood, both genders are welcome).

The leaders of the Firm aren't known to the government. They stay in the deepest, darkest shadows, dealing with very few cases and preferring to delegate to their captains in the field. It's thought that the Firm operate even in the highest echelons of civil government, with plants, informers and 'bought' men and women passing information on in exchange for money, protection and access to services that would otherwise perhaps be unavailable. The Zerulic City Guard, too, has been infiltrated extensively, and oft-times turns a blind eye to the Firm's activities - at least those they witness. Executions of mass murderers, rapists, thugs? Often the Firm dealing with its own. Think of it as a Thieves' Guild... only much more insidious and present in many aspects of society that Thieves' Guilds perhaps avoid. That merchant in the street you saw selling wares perhaps a little bit cheaper than his competitors? He might be subsidised with smuggled goods by a low-ranking captain of the Firm in exchange for protection and cuts of the profits, or word on the street. That barkeep that seems to listen all the time and keep his mouth shut? You never know, he might be in the Firm. The robber who robbed you at swordpoint of what little you own and who ends up dead a few days later, with your belongings and a little bit more returned? Courtesy of the Firm.

In addition to the usual smuggling, racketeering and general crime malarkey that the Firm are involved with, they are also responsible for a large quantity of magical item trafficking in and out of Zerul, often masqueraded as legitimate business transactions. Zerul City, of course, is home to large quantities of mages and magical knowledge, and it's only reasonable that some of these magical talents also work in the Firm. Essentially, much of the magical knowledge within the Firm is used to defend it from prying eyes on the outside, whilst also maintaining a firm and iron-shod grasp on matters and the traffic of information into and out of the city. In addition, magic can also help the Firm in other ways - body disposal, identification, interrogation, execution - all of these can be hastened with the correct and appropriate application of a touch of magic.

So who are actually in the Firm? Collating the lists I have made, and what little the government likely knows about those involved, here is a run-down of who's who in the Firm.

A Detailed Analysis of the Nature of Crime - The Firm in Zerul

- GRAND CAPTAINS' CIRCLE -

Grand Captain Harold Nystrom: 59, M, Human. Reportedly the seniormost of the Grand Captains of the Firm.

Grand Captain Danil Serrin: 77, M, Human. Head of the Serrin family, masters of the river docks.

Grand Captain Fastolf Dramburgh: 50, M, Human. Dramburgh is apparently Grand Captain of the Cleaners.

Grand Captain Elme Arnowik: 58, F, Human. The only female on the Grand Captains' Circle, Grand Captain of the Dens.




Beneath the Grand Captains are the true workhorses of the Firm; the Captain-Juniors. These are the ones you're likely to see signing death warrants, protection rackets and other dealings - anything above these and you're in seriously high-level crime. Generally, it's thought that each family has four or five Captain-Juniors in their employ.

-CAPTAIN-JUNIORS-

Nystrom:
Captain-Junior George Nystrom: 48, M, Human. The nephew of Harold, and reportedly second-in-line to the Nystrom family.
Captain-Junior Leon Nystrom: 40, M, Human. Son of Harold, Captain-Junior. Rivals with George.
Captain-Junior Stewart Nystrom: 44, M, Human. Brother of George. Considered to be a financial whizz, in league with the Arnowiks.
Captain-Junior Alexander Nystrom: 37, M, Human. Brother of George.

Serrin:
Captain-Junior Stephen Serrin: 57, M, Human. Dockyard worker leader. Has been reportedly siphoning funds for his own personal use.
Captain-Junior Laura Serrin: 57, F, Human. Sister of Stephen. Has network of informants in the merchant docks, often in league with S. Nystrom and E. Arnowik.
Captain-Junior Danil Serrin II: 50, M, Human. Strongman of the Serrin family. Father's right hand and alleged heir. Runs many brothels in the docks.
Captain-Junior Ambrose Serrin: 48, F, Human. Daughter of Danil Serrin. Head of the dockyard's "escort services wing"... whatever that means.

Dramburgh:
Captain-Junior Ian Dramburgh: 46, M, Human. Brother of Fastolf.
Captain-Junior Glenn Dramburgh: 40, M, Human. Nephew of Fastolf. Involved in goldsmithing and precious metal smuggling with Kelenwyn.
Captain-Junior Erik Kelenwyn: 40, M, Human. Goldsmith, blacksmith, jeweller. Not a Dramburgh, though married one. Regularly tests gold samples for the Firm.
Captain-Junior Andru Dramburgh: 30, M, Human. Son of Fastolf and heir to the Dramburgh family.

Arnowik:
Captain-Junior Seane Arnowik: 45, F, Human. Gambler, card player and cad extraordinaire. A common sight at upper-class parties and events.
Captain-Junior Juan Arnowik: 42, M, Human. Financial regulator, often works with Kelenwyn and S. Nystrom in financial matters of the Firm.
Captain-Junior Willem Arnowik: 42, M, Human. Security professional, ex-military. Runs a variety of protection firms, both legal and non-legal.
Captain-Junior Fredrika Arnowik: 33, F, Human. Works with brother Willem in security and defence.

With the Captain-Juniors are their own networks of contacts, usually run through their second-in-commands; the Firm calls them Cons. Who these Cons are is currently unknown, but it's estimated that each C-J has at least one Con, if not two or three.

Occasionally, people displease the Firm in manners that cannot go unpunished. In times of need, the Captain-Juniors send out a call for assistance in dealing with these matters - these individuals are known as the 'Cleaners' in some circles, and the 'Hunters' in others. According to what limited information the civic government has on the Firm's internal workings, their official title is the former - perhaps the latter is a colloquialism, given their job. The Cleaners' task is to hunt down and eliminate those who pose a threat to the Firm's dealings, for example through drawing too much attention to their activities or threatening to inform on the Firm's inner workings. The Cleaners have an array of targets that they are paid handsomely for, and the Cleaners often have small crews of their own to deal with body disposal. The Cleaners are perhaps the most shadowy of the organisations in question, though their activities have the most obvious effects. In essence, the Cleaners are the police of the Firm - cleaning up those who are too dangerous to have around.

Known Cleaners:
Angora Kelenwyn: 19, F, Human: Daughter of Captain-Junior Erik Kelenwyn, the youngest of the known Cleaners. Also an expert in seduction and infiltration.
Henry Thaw: 25, M, Human: Thaw was reportedly behind the assassination of several high-level informers within the Firm.
Charlie Thomas: 39, M, Human: Known for his expertise in body disposal. Thomas and his waste disposal crew have been seen at the sites of murders.
Hargo Stensen: 48, M, Human: An expert at assassinating magical foes of the Firm.
Xavier Mansworth: 42, M, Human: Mansworth is a contact with the City Guard - by day, he guards the walls. By night, Mansworth is a Cleaner.
Victoria Smethwick: 35, F, Human: Rumoured to be behind the knifing of several murderers.
Cassidy Lawrensworth: 22, F, Human: Known in the Firm to prefer the jobs of rapists over all others - perhaps raped earlier in life?
-meh.-
*hoped would be able to get some time off to do writings and things*

University and IRL:

-redacted-
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