Thorned Hammer

Forgotten History

"Do you think he would've hesitated to put you down." Demanded Marcus, his tone still stone cold and his eyes dark. His finger didn't move off the trigger as he opened his mouth to continue but Tess cut him off,

"Listen to him Marcus, he won't give us away! We can, we can take him as hostage or something!" She said, trying to appeal to his reasoning instead of emotional mindset since that clearly wasn't in the works here. "We've already killed all of his fellows. we don't need to put him down too."

"Why cause he's crying?" Snapped Marcus, grabbing the soldier by the collar and dragging him upright. "Because he's begging? So he's spineless, so what? You still think it would be a mercy to leave him alive when we just shot up his whole unit?" His voice was rising in volume but he didn't seem to care, glaring over the soldier's head now at Tess.

It was vivid, really vivid in his mind's eye. The heat, the smell, the sounds. Sickening crunches and gasping breaths. And always the tramping of heavy suit boots coming closer occasionally pausing over a wheezing body. And in the end a rough voice telling others to leave him he was no longer a threat. Leaving him alive and gasping clutching a jammed rifle with shrapnel in his chest surrounded by what was left of his first squad. Being dead sometimes seemed better then reliving that in his memories.

Forgotten History

By the time Rin had the man down on the ground Marcus had a gun drawn and pointed at him, not having hesitated. He probably would've shot him point blank at first sign if Rin hadn't been between them. This would be easier. Crouching down he pressed the muzzle of the gun to the captive's temple, wordlessly readying to pull the trigger when there was shouting from the group.

Tess was running their way. She had seen the end of the fight, racing forward to help at first. but now the man was defenseless and on the ground, and it looked like Marcus intended to kill him anyways. "Wait! Marcus let him go!" She said, skidding to a stop when she reached them. "He can't hurt us now," The pilot stopped speaking abruptly though when Marcus's attention snapped to her face. His expression was cold, his glare almost seeming to cut right through Tess.

"He's UKD." Snapped Marcus, clearly not willing to budge on this. "He's dead."

The Legend Of The Ferra Stone

Name: Jal Of no others

Age: 48

Gender: male

Status: rouge, outsider

Kingdom: neither

Personality: An independent miscreant with little to do on his hands save survive.

History: As a halfer Jal dealt with adversity and rejection from both sides of his family. Too elfy for the humans and too human for the elves. So he cut ties with both and took to the woods. Borders meant next to nothing to him, and he spent little time in the more established areas of the new nations. Rather he would spend his time in the slums, where his slightly rounded ears brought him no trouble when paired with his elven human features. And if not there, in the trees where he lived off the road and the hauls treasured by bandits or the hordes of other marauding creatures.

Other:

Appearance:

Picture:

I will add to this, on my phone

Forgotten History

Eventually the number of pursuers dwindled before they ceased to appear all together. That was when Marcus came out of the trees to rejoin them at the rear of the group. He had taken his helmet off, not wanting anyone to mistaken him for the enemy, but held it tightly in one hand still. It could be useful later on. To his back was strapped a single shot rifle, and he had about five pistols on his person in various places along with ammo and spare clips. Instead of shorts and sneakers, he was now wearing some unfortunate man's pants and boots. He looked much more natural this way, even with dirt and grime on his skin and a perhaps to tight grip on the helmet and pistol.

Seeing Rin was a relief, and tension was almost visible seeping out of his shoulders and stance as he watched them from behind. She might've been trailing, but she was there and still walking so Marcus took that as a win.

Forgotten History

Dude it's fine!

Forgotten History

In a flash Tess sprinted past Richard, grabbing up his attacker's dropped automatic and snapping it up to spray a stream of bullets into the teeth of three other fast approaching men. She couldn't stop and think about, couldn't stop to see blood seep from bullet wounds or hear stuttering last breaths. If she did she would panic and freeze, and they couldn't afford that. They had to keep moving.

"Get up! You ok?" She called to Richard, trying to usher on more shocked looking civilians out of the way while keeping the gun up and looking over her shoulder at the downed pilot. Her eyes were wild, face pale and there was still mud and blood smeared on her arms and legs from before. But she was upright and helping. It was the best she could manage for now.

Marcus was never still. The HUD was a god send really, the friend or foe tags making it almost to easy to track down the fast moving attackers and pick them off. At one point the sniper ran into a party of three, startling them into panic fire which set off flashes of muzzle fire between the trees visible to the civilians and his friends. They didn't last long though and Marcus soon added their clips to the ammo belt he had pilfered from another soldier.

By now there looked to be only a few left, Marcus counted six but there were probably a few outside the range of the motion detector. It was a pretty small sensor field after all. Still better then having nothing to go on. He was also almost fully kidded out now, snatching up pistols where he could and having stored away his tac knife. Single shots to cripple or kill were faster then cutting through these guys with a knife. And it was all about getting them down fast so that the others could get away clear.

Station Five

Hello, is it still possible to submit a CS for this?

Forgotten History

Marcus heard Richard's shout, calling the civis over to himself and leading them away from the fray. He caught a glimpse of Tess moving along with him, her gun holstered but helping injured to their feet and managing to keep pace with the rush of events. Once sure they were all moving and it seemed the stream of fire was having trouble keeping up with them he moved into the trees while hoping Rin would be following after their two friends.

Needing to move fast, he decided it was better to take the fight to the attackers the Banshee way instead of eating through amo and just taking pot shots into the dark. Sure one or two of the soldiers were running into the open, but by the rate of fire he was almost positive there were at least a dozen out here.

Breaking into a sprint he cut into the trees, slinging his gun over his back by the strap and colliding full tilt with the first dark mass he caught sight of. The opponent grunted in surprise, feeling hard and resistant to Marcus's attack but when the other threw his full weight into it the assailant hit a near by tree with shuddering force. Marcus's knife glinted in a brief blast of muzzle fire before disappearing into the soldier he had pinned to the tree. Not waiting for his body to hit the dirt, Marcus caught the front of the guy's helmet with one hand and jerked it off before yanking it down on his own head. There was a HUD, night vision, and a motion detector with friend or foe tags.

"Ready or not here we come," Marcus hummed, honing in on the first friend tag (Since that was no doubt the dead man's squad mate) and moving at the same break neck pace he had before struck out to dispatch him. This he could do, he couldn't herd unarmed and wounded people properly, couldn't lead survivors with words or hope or comfort people when they just had had to watch their homes burn. Couldn't help Casper. But he damn sure could kill the bastards who caused all this.

Forgotten History

"Well don't." Marcus said simply, pointedly refusing to dwell on any mentioning of Casper. Not dwelling, he wasn't gonna dwell. "That's what Im supposed to do. Just sit there and look all pretty you fancy pilot." He teased, nuzzling her slightly and grinning against her cheek to let her know he didn't mean it. Sure there was always friction between pilots and soldiers, and Marcus did love to tease her about it. But in the end he knew he could never do what she did and respected her for it, still it was fun to tease.

Now. It wasn't verbal, just a simple flicker of light. Like someone had opened and shut a door into a well light room in a fraction of a second. Then there was clattering and a hiss, and Tess's eyes widened in alarm as a smoking canister rolled into view. If anything could jolt her from a comfortable silence against Richard, that could.
"Gas!" She shouted, bolting to her feet and grabbing at Richard to pull him back and away further from the sinister cloud billowing out of the hissing gas grenade. Immediately there was panic from the civilians, Tess's shout of alarm stirring them all and many stumbled wildly into the growing cloud.

Marcus and Rin were far enough away to have time to get up as the fog swirled at their ankles, Marcus snatching up his gun and bringing it up and around in the blink of an eye. Twisting he snapped it around in the direction the gas grenade had come from and tapped the trigger. It was an assault rifle, not his weapon of choice, but it only rattled briefly. Short controlled bursts was all they could afford, and he was rewarded by a shout that was sharply cut off in the direction his bullets had flown.
"Catch, Wasp up!" He barked, snapping back into the right mindset at a moment's notice.

Prisoners requested. Do not take unnecessary risks. That was the order, and the Trackers intended to follow it. One bloodied but not down they sprang into action. Another gas grenade was flung into the ring of scrambling survivors, guns raised and firing with short bursts into the growing smoke aiming for crippling shots or simply to scare everyone into submission.

Forgotten History

Tess breathed out heavily, taking this at a sort of acceptance of her wordless apology. Or maybe just him being decent, and not getting her wordless apology. It was wordless after all. Not like she had made her meaning clear or anything.
"Thanks." She said quietly, still keeping her knees tight to her chest and adjusting herself a bit so the arm around her shoulders rested more easily there. Didn't want to strain him.

"Wait, wait what?" Genuinely surprised by the request Marcus looked down at her with disbelief. "Rin, we aren't going to die out here. You don't need to worry about that," Shifting he slipped his arm around her waist, pressing a chaste kiss against her temple before looking back down at her. It was odd, not that it was something he had never heard before out here. Kyle would often order them to not die, shout at them in a middle of a fight or drag their battered bodies to their feet and hiss it into their faces. But to have it laid out in such a clear manner by Rin's tone and look, that she didn't think she'd be able to continue without him, that pulled Marcus from his field mindset long enough to reassure her. He had no doubt that if something were to happen to him Rin would be able to go on. She had shown him nothing but strength and he knew that could carry her through anything. But that wasn't the right thing to say here he figured, so instead he added "I am not going to die, and neither are you. So don't worry about it,"

Shadows moved silently not far from them, shapeless masses of darker forms moving between sources of cover and treading on light feet. There was no crackle of radios. No click of tack gear. Not even the dull shine of combat suits. Trackers didn't wear those, trackers didn't need them. Steadily though they drew their loose circle tighter around the small band of escapees. Ever growing smaller, weapons raised now. Just waiting for a signal.