Zamokra41

{High-Casual} Darkest of Times [a Darkest Dungeon themed RP]

...yet another bump...

{High-Casual} Darkest of Times [a Darkest Dungeon themed RP]

bumping for interest

{High-Casual} Darkest of Times [a Darkest Dungeon themed RP]

Name Reynald Vox Age 29 Gender Male Appearance 1,82m tall. Mid length dark brown hair parted slightly off the center. A light stubble, testimony to a number of sleepless nights along with the bags around his jet black eyes and a slight gaunt of his cheeks. Sharp facial features. A slim, light scar just under his right eye reaching midway down his cheek. Personality Loyal and dedicated to his beliefs, Reynald is the sort some would describe as a “warrior of faith”, ready and eager to do God’s work spreading the light across the world. His deep beliefs have, however, made him rather close-minded, feeling a hint of discomfort in the back of his mind when having to meddle with the unfaithful. While he personally would consider such individuals an affront, he has learned to keep his thoughts to himself, so long as they ultimately assist in the greater goal he is willing to overlook such slights in an ‘ends excuse the means’ sort of way. In spite of any shortcomings, he is a man of honor, giving respect where its due and lending a helping hand where is needed. Most of the time he is quiet, keeping his thoughts to himself and only speaking when he has something to say. His sense of humor is quite low, actually finding it distasteful when overhearing other people joke about certain subjects, even insulting to the point of anger should they make japes about his beliefs. Class Crusader Gear A Crusader’s armor, consisting of strong plate-mail with a dark blue, worn surcoat over it. Light platings on the shoulders, strong reinforced leather gloves and boots, black leather trousers and a solid closed helmet. Attached to his belt is a small traveling pack where he keeps his scrolls of the holy scriptures up handy.

Armor Reference

A standard issue claymore which he wields with both hands.

Weapon Reference

A few scrolls of the holy scriptures which he can use to wield the holy magic taught to all Crusaders. Proficiency Reynald is a warrior, fighting his foes head on with sword in hand. His skill and strength only matched by his devotion to God. Other than sheer combat prowess, Reynald can also make use of a bit of magic, with the holy scriptures he keeps at all time, to heal fresh wounds, bolster his own strength and deliver holy justice upon the wicked and unholy. Traits Unwavering – Reynald’s deep faith in the Almighty keeps him strong and fighting even in the darkest of situations. Flaws God Fearing – Reynald has rejected the simple and sinful pleasures of the world, finding solace only in prayer and contemplation. Blind Faith – Reynald will look down upon those who do not accept God in their hearts and will refrain from interacting with the sinful when possible. Emotional Response When the situation is most dire and all hope seems to fade, Reynald is convinced that this must be a punishment and test from God, thus he will become all the more determined to continue fighting even if a wiser man would flee. Furthermore he will expect no less from his comrades and thus he will be prone to becoming more abusive of them, especially the non-believers whose unfaithfulness he may ultimately blame for their predicament. Excerpt “Sometimes I feel as if God has sent Father Esteban on this world with the sole purpose of testing me. First he denies me to accompany our brothers and sisters on their pilgrimage across the countryside to bring Light to the wicked, then he commands me to play caretaker to the new recruits during their instruction and now he denies my request to stand in tonight’s vigil. I understand why he may think less of me, simply because I have chosen this path at a younger age than most, but I am every bit as capable as any of my brothers, if not better ! But no, such thoughts have no place in the mind of a warrior of God. Whatever the Almighty may have planned for me, I must trust in His design.” ..... “Today Father Esteban has asked me and a few of my brothers to wait for his arrival just outside of the abbey rather than participate on tonight’s prayers. What could be so important that we have to skip our communion with God?” ..... “Today, is a glorious day. The vile Necromancer plaguing the countryside has fallen to my blade and the Holy Light of God ! Yet instead of celebrating we must mourn our fallen brothers, including Father Esteban. May God rest their souls and welcome them in His embrace. “ ..... “Its been years since a single Undead has been seen, yet there is no shortage of the wicked prowling on the innocent. The Order has become thinned lately… Father Esteban may have been strict and sometimes one could question his judgments, yet he kept the Order true and stable. I know it is unbecoming to think so, but Father Jaston’s guidance may very well be what has brought the Order in such a state. May God forgive my brashness, but something must be done! “ ..... “A quiet day today…too quiet. I’ve counted half a dozen youths in the training ground this morning. I can’t recall when was the last time the Order had so few new recruits. What has happened? Did the people’s faith waver? Do they think that since the vile shadow, that has been haunting their sleepless nights, has been vanquished that the Order is no longer needed? They are wrong ! Don’t they know that God’s work is never done? Not until all corners of the world sing His praises and all the wicked and defiled have been cast back into the void from whence they came ! “ ..... “We received a call for help today. It seems the heir of a distant land has returned after his ancestor brought ruin and evil upon it and now is enlisting the aid of whomever is willing in aiding to vanquishing this evil. This must be a sign ! A sign from God Himself, telling me where to go and where I am needed. Father Jatson seemed more interested in the potential reward promised, rather disgraceful for a servant of the Light but at very least he didn’t object to myself and a few of my brothers volunteering to heed the call. We pack our bags tonight and will travel at first light. May God guide our path” ..... “The Weaverstar Estate, it is called. A ruin of a land, quite the dramatic change in the last few years from what it once was as I understand it, if some of the locals can be trusted. My brothers and I were not the only ones to answer the call it seems, though I question both the motives and the character of most of these….mercenaries. Regardless, if they can ultimately help in fulfilling God’s wish, even without the exact intent, it may be all for the better. We have yet to meet with the lord in person, only with the caretaker who gave us nothing more than a brief welcome and a vague idea of what we will possibly be confronting. My brothers are a little nervous and I admit, even I am. Whatever this evil we are confronting is, it must command great strength if it reduced a once proud land and noble house to such…ruin. In the end we will prevail though. We are the warriors of God ! With His guidance by our side, we cannot fail !” ..... “A week has passed since we first arrived here and it feels like we haven’t managed to make any progress in cleansing this land. The evil here has a strong grip, I have fought more vile Undead in this one week here than in all my years at the abbey ! I don’t know what this lord’s ancestor did to bring his home in such a state, but it must have been something of the vilest of kinds. How else could something so dire happen?” ..... “Another group of hired-swords have been declared fallen. If this keeps up it won’t be long until only my brothers and I are all that’s left…” ..... “Brother Nikko has succumbed to his disease. May God welcome his soul in His embrace.” ..... “I can’t believe what is happening ! What on Earth are we fighting against ?! It feels like the more we slay the stronger they become ! We have been battling against the wicked and corrupt for nearly a month now, day and night with no hint to them wavering. When will it end ?! “ ..... “I… I am alone now. I had a bad feeling since I woke up yesterday and was waiting for the caretaker to tells us today’s assignment. It sounded simple enough, explore the underground tunnels and map it out for further expeditions, nothing we haven’t done before. We thought we were ready, we thought we were well prepared for anything…but we were wrong ! Sister Tharta sacrificed herself so Brother Eugene and myself would escape…we made it, barely. And now…. I woke up this morning to find that Brother Eugene had lost himself to despair. It seemed he would rather take his own life, an offense to God, than venture in the dark depths bellow once again. May God grant them rest and forgive them for all their transgressions in life. And may He grant me strength necessary to push on…” ..... “It looks like another group of would-be adventurers have heard the need for aid from here. Let’s hope they are well prepared for the horrors they are about to face..if one can ever be.”

{High-Casual} Darkest of Times [a Darkest Dungeon themed RP]

DARKEST OF TIMES

a 'Darkest Dungeon' themed RP INTRODUCTION Those of you who are unfamiliar with the game Darkest Dungeon by Red Hook Games, I highly recommend you check it out, now in Early Access on Steam. Note: You don’t NEED to be familiar with the game to participate in the RP. Whether you are a veteran or have never heard of Darkest Dungeon, all are welcome.

STORY

It’s been nearly 2 months since the heir of the land has returned to claim what is his and started this campaign to purge the evil inflicted upon the land by the blind and mad ambitions of his ancestor. In this time, word has spread of his call for help, promises of bountiful rewards, great glories and a sense of duty have attracted many brave men and women ready to stand against the evil that plague this once proud and illustrious estate. In time, the small hamlet that serves as a base of operation for all these would-be heroes, has slowly seen activity restored with uneasy trading routes brining in traders with ample supplies at profitable prices, people who once owned a respectable establishment returning in hopes of brining their broken business back on its feet and sturdy work-force willing to help bring the estate to its once former glory brick by brick….all for a price, ofcourse. Purging the evil that plagues this land is no easy task in any way, many have died or simply fled with terror in their hearts, until only very few remained, their spirit scared by the horrors they have witnessed and somehow survived, still pressing on to this maddening task for one reason or another. The lord himself seldom if ever shows himself to the people in his service, staying behind the locked doors of a modest building which once served as a guest house back in the days of yore, now taking the place of the venerable mansion that stood proudly atop the moor. The caretaker and a personal servant being the only ones allowed inside, one reporting the progress of the campaign, fetching new instructions and the details to new assignments which he will later pass along to those who came here seeking fortune and glory, while the other bring the lord his meals and takes care of more domestic matters. It’s been nearly 2 months and a bit of progress has been made, yet evil that plagues this land still has a tight grip upon it and almost all who were willing to venture out and confront it have either perished or gone mad, few still remaining. Today, the stagecoach has returned after a long expedition, brining in fresh new blood who have enlisted themselves to this task. Whether it be for fortune, glory or other reasons, they will soon be fighting for their survival and sanity as they thread through the blackened corridors and battle through the nightmarish creatures that lurk deep within….the Darkest Dungeon.

RULES

The standard High-Casual rules apply.

• Be respectful, be understanding
• Have decent grammar
• Have a decent post size + rate
• Gore and profanity is present but to be kept under reasonable control
• No sudden vanishing without a heads-up
• Be creative and have fun :)

PLOT SUMMARY

You are one of those who have heard the call for help from Weaverstar Estate and its returned lord, Sylas Weaverstar, deciding to enlist along with others to help fight against the evil that has plagued the once noble land. Your reasons for doing this are your own, yet you are not alone and soon enough you will have to rely on these strangers to fight by your side and ensure survival as well as sanity of mind. This is a dungeon-crawler style RP, where our heroes will be wandering through dark corridors in search for both treasures as well as the source of the darkness that grips and corrupts the land. However, our heroes are not the stalwart and unshakeable sort from High-Fantasy, they more human and are affected both physically and psychologically by the horrors they face. Team-work is key, for a lone adventurer will soon find himself in an early grave after being overrun by what lurks deep beneath. Terrifying creatures, dark halls and rooms with but a flickering torch guiding the way, limited supplies and the different quirks and flaws of each character, all will have an impact on our party and the odds of success for each expedition.

POST STYLE

There is no particular order of posts yet I will assume all of you will be understandable enough not to spam 3+ posts while other barely got one through. My posts will consist in both a ‘regular’ post of my character as well as the environment and narration of the story which will react to your decisions.

COMBAT

When dealing with battle, rather than ‘godmodding’, describe your character’s actions, his intentions and the expected outcome. Example : “Reynald rushes forward, swinging his mighty blade at the foul creature and hacking it in two.” Vs. “Reynald rushes forward, with a tight grip on his sword he raises the blade up taking a swing at the foul creature, aiming to hack it in two.” See the diference? Think of it like playing a Dungeons & Dragons game, where every outcome to a certain action is determined by the roll of the dice, just in this case I as the GM will play the role of the dice. Warning : Expect things to go pretty badly for everyone ;)

TRAITS, QUIRKS & FLAWS

Each character is unique from the other, each has its own personality and just like in real life, you are not always guaranteed to get along with everyone else. The traits and quirks of your character will have an impact upon their relationship with other characters, events that may happen and the environment itself. An alcoholic warrior would most likely be with a bottle in hand when wanting to relief some of the stress rather than trying to find contemplation in prayer, he may also not see eye to eye with another character who has sworn off liquor for whatever reason. Events and experiences may also alter your character’s personality, adding new quirks, changing existing or both. A long night of unanswered prayers may change the character’s religious beliefs ; a confrontation gone bad with an Undead may have made the character more fearful of their kind, thus reducing his prowess against them in the future ; a night of revelry at the tavern may have made a character addicted to drinks; I encourage you to be as creative as you can :) Note on “Emotional Response” : When the stress of the task becomes to much and your character reaches their breaking point, they may react strongly to the situation. An ‘emotional response’ will affect both the character’s behavior to some degree as well as those around him. A character crippled with fear and terror may occasionally freeze in combat from the sheer horror that they confront and their frantic babbling may affect the rest of their party.

Character Classes

The Crusader

"Battle-hardened and stalwart, the Crusader has held the front lines in a hundred holy wars. He either attacks foes head-on with righteous fury, or embraces a melee support role by leveraging his powerful defensive buffs & off-heals. The Crusader wears heavy plate mail and wields a longsword. While affording him excellent protection and damage, his armor restricts movement, and his sword cannot be swung effectively in the back ranks"

The Vestal

"The warrior nun channels her zeal for battle into healing abilities, holy judgements and dazzling explosions of light. A strong backbone to any party, the Vestal can also hold her own on the front line with a powerful mace bash and close-quarters condemnations. Blessed plate-mail encases the Vestal as she delivers terrible violence and healing comfort in equal measure. A mace in one hand, a holy book in another - a study in contrasts, and all the more effective for it!"

The Highwayman

"A rogue, a thug and a thief, the Highwayman has honed his skills with dirk and flintlock to devastating effect. Whether at range or in a melee, he is equally effective at dispatching his foes. Be it a grapeshot area-of-effect, or single target bleed, the Highwayman's skills focus solely on dealing damage in a variety of ways. The Highwayman's reinforced overcoat will dull a knife-strike, but he relies more on evasion than damage mitigation. His flintlock and short-sword afford him great versatility; he is never out of position or caught unawares"

The Bounty Hunter

"A brutally efficient single-target executioner and crowd control specialist. For the Bounty Hunter, planning is key - mark targets for bonus damage or look for opportunties to capitalize on a stunned foe. He can also wreak havoc on an enemy party's order using his grappling hook, flashbangs and powerful uppercut. The Bounty Hunter favors a hand-axe and grappling hook, a pairing that allows him to ensnare and execute his quarry with proffesional efficiency. His tough leather and scale armor grants decent protection, without sacrificing mobility"

The Grave Robber

"The Grave Robber is a versatile and nimble combatant, moving back and forth through the ranks with ease. She strikes without warning and retreats to the shadows, continuing her assault at range. If her throwing daggers and poison darts aren't getting the job done, she can return to the melee, buffed and slinging her pickaxe! A light coat is all the Grave Robber will wear, she favours mobility and dexterity over protection. Concealed within her garment are razor sharp throwing daggers, and buckled to her back - a pickaxe and shovel"

The Hellion

"Wild, unpredictable, and utterly ruthless, the Hellion thrills to the spilling of blood! Her massive glaive affords her impressive reach in combat, while its razor sharp edge leaves lasting wounds on enemies. Certain skills leave her exhausted, however, and she may occasionally need to take a turn to recharge her adrenaline before entering the fray once again. Crude leather and furs may offer little protection, but the Hellion lives to bear the scars of battle proudly. Her priority is wreacking havoc with her massive glaive and bathing in the blood of her adversaries"

The Jester

"Combat is a power-ballad - a slow build up, and a grand finale! On offense, the Jester leaps to and fro in a bloody cacophony, positioning himself for a glorious end in the front ranks! Alternatively, he can hang back, delivering chilling melodies and unsettling riffs that terrorize his foes, and give strength to his allies. Clad only in mildewed cloth, the Jester makes a mockery of battle. Only a foul would underestimate the vicious bloodletting power of his sharpened sickle, or the discordant throng of his lute"

The Leper

"A ruined man, a warrior, and a poet. The Leper is most effective when given a turn to focus himself before raising his massive blade. When he swings, it is all or nothing - crushing blows and massive damage or the empty whistling of a glancing blow. He is entirely self-sufficient, drawing strength from his life of trauma, and able to channel it into heals, protection, or unrelenting fury. Heavy and restricting, the Leper's bronzed curiass can absorb all manner of punishing blows. His massive sword is slow to swing, but delivers crushing damage to anyone caught in its unstoppable arc"

The Occultist

"A lifetime of scholarly inquest into ancient and forbidden lore has opened the Occultist's mind to the powers of the void. Debilitating curses and maddeningly impossible support skills are his specialty. The void, however, is an unpredictable power, and consequently skills' effectiveness can vary dramatically, and usually come at a cost of light, or stress. Scholarly robes, better suited to the library than the harsh realities of adventuring, are all the Occultist has brought with him. His rituals and chants require deft movements of hand and finger, so better he be unencumbered that he may channel the power of his morbid fetish: the polished skull of a dead man"

The Plague Doctor

"A doctor, researcher and alchemist who prefers to hang back, eating away at her foes with stacking damage-over-time abilties like toxic clouds & plague-filled grenades. She is equally effective in a support role, blinding and confusing foes while enhancing a party's survival with damage-increasing tonics, and remedies for bleed and blight effects. The Plague Doctor wears only light cloth - intent on remaining as far from melee combat as possible. From a distance she lobs toxic satchels that can blind, disorient and eat away at her foes" NOTE : Feel free to modify and make your own twist of these available classes as long as the ‘core’ of it remains the same.

Character Sheet

Name The name and/or nickname of your character Age Self explanatory . No younger than 23, please. Gender Self explanatory Appearance Picture or description are good, both are awesome Personality Self explanatory Class Refer to the “Classes” section Gear Describe the equipment and items that your character has upon their person at all time. You may use images if you like. Note – ‘miscellaneous’ items such as bandages, food, keys, etc. are to be excluded unless they are class related, such as a Bounty Hunter’s flash-bangs for example Proficiency Describe your character’s abilities, what he is good at in combat. Traits List the positive traits and quirks of your character and how they may affect themselves and/or other people. No more than 2, no less than 1 Flaws List the negative traits and quirks of your character and how they may affect themselves and/or other people. One more than the positive traits. Emotional Response When the stress becomes too much and your character is reaching their breaking point, what will most likely be their emotional response and how will this affect those around? Excerpt This serves as a form of back-story for your character. Instead of simply explaining your character’s past, consider this as something like pages from a journal, where we get to see a glimpse of your character’s past from their own point of view. Be sure to also include how they heard of this place and why they enlisted. This can be however long or short as you wish.

Q&A

If you have any questions, feel free to address them, no matter how small or complex. Ask and I will answer as best I can.

Roster

-Reynald Vox- {Zamokra41}

the offically unoffical offical best things on youtube thread

[youtube]vZ_mb8S1_w4[/youtube] magic does not seem to work :(

[Zamokra41] - Avalon Empire - [MachineSoul]

Day 0

PART 2/2

Once all the generals introduced themselves Cyrus took a deep breath of relief “Thankyou noble generals, we will all be counting on your hard work in the days to come. It will be due to our combined efforts that this war shall end and the rightful order shall be restored across the Empire.” A moment of silence passed in which Cyrus approached Aleko and placed his hand on his shoulder “Now, I beg you excuse us. The Emperor must finish his duties before the day is out. “ and eagerly urged Aleko out of the Map-Room. It was only after the doors were closed and the two were walking down the hallway that Cyrus took the liberty of producing a handkerchief from under his robes which he used to wipe a few beads of sweat from his brow. “I apologize that you had to go through that, sire. I haven’t anticipated that introducing the generals to you would be so….eventful.” Cyrus then took another deep breath, regained his composure and stashed away the handkerchief. “Regardless, what occurred there will probably signify but a taste of what is to come, I’m afraid. The people’s respect must be earned and although I’m sorry to say, it will probably be more difficult for you to achieve this due to you being a bast….Ugh..I mean due to your…background. Pardon me, sire.” Cyrus bowed his head and then indicated to Aleko to continue down the hallway “Let us resume our introduction of the fortress, sire, shall we?”

The two walked through the hallway and down another flight of stairs, reaching the lower level of the fortress. After a few twists and turns they reached a pair of slim, metallic double doors which upon opening revealed a small, crudely shaped spiraling staircase which lead further down from where once could hear strange noises similar to those heard from the Control Room only more often, diverse and louder. “We will be descending into the heart of the Escalyber , sire.” Cyrus announced as they carefully descended the metallic spiraling stairs. Once at the bottom they saw a great room, fully occupied by large and strange machineries composed of many multiple parts, metallic shells which probably hid even more such parts, gears turning, steam being exhaled from certain places and flashes of electrical current circulating down to some of the machines via a series of long cables connecting them with a number of small electrical orbs affixed on rods on the ceiling. The sounds of metallic clanking and churning, steam blowing and electrical zaps were nearly deafening, yet the many workers that attended down here seem to have gotten used to them since it didn’t appear to bother them while they tinkered and toyed with the various controls or jot down some information on small notebooks. “I mentioned before that the Escalyber is a marvel wrought from a mix of magic and technology, sire..” Cyrus spoke as they were walking over narrow walkways among the large machines, the Wziard had to raise his voice for Aleko to hear him in this racket. “Engineers and builders created this magnificent machinations which are the source of the fortress’ flight. Yet these machines alone did not have the strength to keep an entire fortress along with everything and everyone inside in the air nor did they have sufficient power to keep working for long. Thus some of the more enlightened Mages of the Empire have worked a complex and powerful enchantment upon both the machines and the fortress, namely to make the structure lighter and give the machines more power, which in the end resulted in the Escalyber lifting up from the ground.” Cyrus then pointed upwards to the electrical orbs on the ceiling. “Those orbs are also a creation of magic. They are basically a conduit which provides the energy for these machines to continue their function for prolonged periods of time. However, with all that considered, the Escalyber cannot remain in the air forever. Sooner or later we would have to land for restocking our supplies, perform maintenance on the machines, rework and re-empower the wards and enchantments upon the machines and the fortress as well as restore power to the conduits as their energy may be vast but it is not unlimited.”

Cyrus and Aleko then found themselves in front of another metallic door which Cyrus claims why he brought Aleko down here. Once opened, on the other side there was a small room which was mostly occupied by a crafting bench with various bits and parts scrambled upon it along with many different schematics and blue-prints placed on the walls on either side. They were not alone as inside there were two individuals who appeared to be busy tinkering over something on the workbench, oblivious to the two newcomers at first. It was only after Cyrus called to their attention that the two turned around. They were a Human female and an Anthro male. The Human had a petite figure, dressed in a variety of a worker’s outfit consisting of a leather vest, a pair of black shorts, simple brown leather boots reaching just above the knee which seem to assort with her brown leather fingerless gloves. Around her hip was a tool-belt with several instruments attached to it. Her blue dyed hair was escaping from under the beige skullcap she wore which came with a pair of engineer’s goggles with a variety of interchangeable lens. Her skin had a bit of dirt, the signs of a worker and one could see a pair of spread wings tattooed on the visible part of her collarbone. The Anthro was a gray wolf sub-species with pale gray fur, dressed in a standard dark blue linen shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black vest over it, a pair of beige cloth trousers stuffed in an ordinary pair of boots. His hands were covered by a pair of short, fingerless, black leather gloves. Streaks of dirty blonde hair fell from under the beige worker’s beret he wore, noticeable wrinkles made their presence around his eyes giving him a tired and ‘indifferent’ expression which was only enforced by his slightly hunched posture. The female smiled and then put her goggles up on her forehead “Good day, sir Weaverstar. Sorry for not noticing you earlier, we weren’t expecting any visitors.” The Anthro sighed and muttered “We never expect visitors. Why would anyone come down here if they don’t need to?” his voice sounded tired as if he didn’t get any sleep. The female chuckled nervously and then her gaze fell upon Aleko. “Ah, is this…” she muttered and then bowed “Good day, sire. My name is Cyndia Stonewan. Myself and my colleague, Renginal Silvertail, are the chief engineers of the Escalyber, sire. Pardon my lack of manners and my un-groomed appearance, it’s been a hectic day.” She then turned her attention to Reginal “Reginal, don’t just stand there, greet the Emperor.” The Anthro sighed and gave the laziest bow possible “Hey… “ he said simply which made Cyndia sigh “Pardon Reginal, sire. He is quite poor with words.” Reginal simply shrugged to that.

Cyrus then inquired about what Cyndia mentioned earlier. “Cyndia, you mentioned that it was a ‘hectic day’ ? Did something happen here?” To the question the woman simply scratched the back of her head “Yes, but nothing to worry about, sir. One of the electrical conduits got a bit overcharged and was pumping to much energy in one of the engines. Luckily Reginal noticed it in time and sapped some of it away.” Reginal muttered “It stung…” as a comment before Cyndia continued with “We are working now on something which should prevent that from happening in the future.” She then turned her gaze at Aleko “Nothing to worry about, sire. I promise.” To that, Cyrus smiled “Thankyou Cyndia. You too Reginal. Your hard work is appreciated.” The woman then smiled and bowed her head “Just doing our jobs, sir. Now if you and his majesty would excuse us, we still have a lot to do today.” Cyrus nodded and then Cyndia concluded with “You’re always welcomed to visit and inspect the Engine Room whenever you wish, sire. Come on now Reginal, Back to work.” Reginal only responded with a “Whatever…” and the two resumed their tinkering over the workbench while Cyrus and Aleko left closing the door behind them. The two backtracked once again, walking through the narrow walkway among the large and noisy engines, climbing up the spiraling metallic stairs and out of the Engine Room. Further down the lower hallway, they stopped at another metallic door and upon entering they entered a large room accessible by a staircase from the entrance. The large room was filled with all manner of machines similar to the Engine Room with the exceptions that while there were less as number, they were of a larger variety and most of them were unfinished, taken apart or only in pieces. While walking down the staircase to reach the center of the room, Cyrus explained “This is the Research Chamber, sire. This is where new weapons, equipment and other machineries are designed and where existing ones are improved upon by our experts.” Once they reached the center of the room, they were greeted by a Dwarf with shortly cropped blonde hair and beard, wearing a pair of spectacles, dressed in a strange leather coat which had an odd design making it look like he was wearing scales. On his hands he wore a pair of simple black leather gloves, his boots were of a similar quality, a satchel and a purse tied to his belt and in his hand he grasped a staff with the head shaped like a lamp.

“Oh, hello, hello. Sir Weaverstar, good to see you. Always a pleasure to have you visit, sir. “ The Dwarf greeted to which Cyrus nodded, then the Dwarf turned his attention to Aleko and after a few moments of apparent confusion, he adjusted his spectacles as if trying to take a better look at the Halfling “Mmmm… I’m sorry, my memory is not as good as it once was…Umm…Have we met before? You don’t seem familiar.” Cyrus took the liberty of answering that. “No, Gudwyn, you haven’t met him before. This is actually why we are here. This is Aleko Sendrakon, the last heir of the Sendrakon bloodline and heir to the throne.” The Wizard then turned his gaze at Aleko. “Sire, this is Gudwyn Earthward. Our chief researcher. “ Upon hearing, Gudwyn widen his small eyes and gave Aleko a deep bow “Oh, my. Pardon my lack of manners, sire. I was not expecting you yourself to visit today.” Cyrus the mentioned “Gudwyn is the one to talk to for any possible improvements for the equipment of our troops or for new additions to the fortress itself.” The Dwarf nods in acknowledgment “Yes, yes, yes. You can count on me, sire. I will use all skills at my disposal to further and aid your campaign as best I can. Yes, yes I will, sire.” Shortly after another person appeared to the scene, probably the most out of place person Aleko has seen in the whole fortress. Before his eyes was an actual live, pale red scaled Lizardman, dressed in a worker’s outfit carrying a wooden box. “Sir, I finished sorting these parts, where should I put them?” He addressed Gudwyn who for a brief moment appeared confused. “Oh, yes, yes. Good work..umm..” he then glanced back and forth between Aleko and the Lizardman for a moment before he apparently regained his composure and urged the Lizardman to stand closer to the group. “Ah, yes…right. Sire, may I introduce you to my assistant, T’chun.” The newcomer then fixed his yellow saurian eyes on Aleko and then bowed his head deeply “Oh, pardon my rudeness, sire. I did not expect the Emperor to visit.” A few moments passed in which Aleko appeared to study T’chun closely before Gudwyn added “T’chun is a very talented lad and more enthusiastic then most of the students I ever had. I don’t know what I would do without him.” The Lizardman nodded “I only wish to continue living here and study all these fascinating technologies that you have all around, sire. I promise to not be a burden and will double my efforts for your satisfaction. “

After Aleko and Cyrus looked around for a little while, they bid their farewells to Gudwyn and T’chun, walked up the stairwell and exited the Research Chambers. Further down the hallway, far away from the Engine Room and the Research Chamber, was lonely wooden door decorated with the golden engraving of a pair of snakes coiled around a rod. Once inside, Cyrus and Aleko found themselves in semi-large room with a rustic, traditional design. One wall had a row of beds lined one next to eachother, another wall was hidden behind large display cases with a number of small instruments, strange plants and small vials and bottles. “This is the Sick Bay, sire. Those who are injured or ill aboard the Escalyber are treated here and..-“ a stranger’s voice interrupted “And they are all treated with care by a professional. Trust me.” The man walked from an adjacent room approaching Cyrus and Aleko while he said that. This man was dressed in a finery white shirt with a black gentleman’s vest over it, a pair of black stripped trousers and simple black gallant shoes. Clean shaven with sharp facial features, short-ish blonde hair combed to the back with a streak of silver hair, showing the Dark Elven heritage of this Halfling, wearing a pair of large spectacles in front of his piercing hazel eyes. Once he approached Aleko, the man placed one hand over his chest and then bowed “Greetings, sire. An honor to have you visit my humble abode.” He said yet there was nary a trace of a smile on his face. “I am called Stephen. Stephen Gregory Hawke, at your service, sire. I am the physician and surgeon on this fortress.” One couldn’t help but notice that his tone of voice, while respectful, could be called bordering on arrogance. Cyrus added “Doctor Stephen is very skillful at his profession. There was rarely an injury or an illness that he wasn’t able to treat.” The physician then crossed his arms “Even IF there was something that I couldn’t treat, I can assure you, I can always improvise and find a new way….or at least put up a good fight.” After that it would appear that Cyrus may have felt some of that arrogance in his tone and thus urged Aleko to leave. Stephen could be heard saying “You are always welcome here, sire. Though I wish I won’t be seeing you very often, if you know what I mean.” Before the two left.

Once outside the Sick Bay, Cyrus sighed heavily. “I believe this is all we have time for today, sire. We have introduced you to the majority of the people of import aboard. Now, shall I see you to your personal quarters? “ Said and done, after a long walk all the way back to the Throne Room, Cyrus lead Aleko through a door in the vicinity of the throne, which opened to a set of stairs leading to a large round chamber with black marble floors and the decoration of a large white tree spread in the middle of the room. A large window pane on one side revealed the setting sun, a bright orange in the sky among the shaded clouds. Bookshelves were all around along with some bits of furniture, a few interesting looking objects among the tomes could be spotted here and there and even a decorative suit of armor, equipped with shield and halberd, was located close to the entrance. “This is the Royal Study, sire.” Cyurs informed “This is where you may spend your time in your free hours, reading or simply relaxing during the occasional breaks from your daily duties. This room is particularly to my liking, when I am not accompanying you, sire, you can usually find me either here or the Library should you require my services.” After that Cyrus urged Aleko through the only other door on the far side of the room. The door opened revealing a beautifully decorated room. Fine, polished wooden floors covered by a large crimson red rug with a white trim and floral themed decorations around the center, the walls were painted white and the ceiling was a dark red with an exquisite chandelier hanging around the center, bathing the room in light. Small paintings were hung on the wall, two large cupboards occupied a small portion of the room, a small desk could be found close to a small window and in the far side of the room there was a large king-sized royal bed with red curtains falling over to the side, white and crimson cushions and blankets all of a finely crafted and at the foot of the bed was a large, strong wooden chest with an iron lock. “These are your personal quarters, sire. Fell free to managed it as you see fit and make it to your liking, if you need anything you may call upon one of the servants using this orb.” Cyrus produced a small blue orb which he offered Aleko. “The orb will send a signal to a series of small trinkets carried by the servants aboard, simply request for one’s presence one or more will be at your side shortly. “

After a few moments in which the Wizard allowed Aleko to get accommodated with his new room, he approached him and mentioned “Sire, I recommend you rest for now and prepare yourself for tomorrow. We will be holding a court calling in the morning where everyone will be gathered in the Throne Room and will swear fealty to you, recognizing you as the official and true Emperor of Avalon. I wish we could hold an official coronation ceremony, yet I am afraid we simply cannot afford the luxury of leniency at this time ,sire. Not to mention that this may also seem like an arrogant display of overconfidence, considered that our situation in this war is not exactly…favorable right now. For that, I apologize, sire. Yet I believe that with your aid we will be able to come out victorious and bring the rightful peace and order on the Empire once again. After that, I promise you that we will hold a proper coronation in your honor.” Cyrus then gave a deep bow and concluded with “Rest well, sire. On the morrow your real duties shall begin and it will be time for the New Avalon Empire to rise and restore order across the land.”

“Good evening, sire” and then the Wizard left, closing the door behind him, leaving Aleko alone with his thoughts and the expectancies of what tomorrow shall bring…

[Zamokra41] - Avalon Empire - [MachineSoul]

Day 0
PART 1/2
Opening Theme

“At long last, the time has come…” he muttered as he gazed upon the imposing building. Strong gray, stone brick walls, blue plaques make up the roofs of the main building and the two slim towers annexed to it, while they were decorated with a blank gray banner, replacing the original Avalon Empire one. Many of the regions of the land have switched their colors to show their allegiance to one side or the other in the grandest conflict Avalon has ever seen for over a millennia. The blank gray banner is a rare sight, many regions have declared neutrality when the war had just sparked but these days there are very few who still claim so, they declared for one side or another out of a sense of duty, a need of justice or simply out of fear. The war begun 20 years ago and after so long most people have learned to live with it and their current situation, there were no great skirmishes or official conflicts, yet only the more ignorant and gullible would believe that it came to some sort of ‘peace’ . The Old Empire had obtained the upper hand, holding the majority of the land, neither of the two other factions had dared make a move against them in such a situation and thus the war had stagnated for a number of seasons already. Yet all that would soon change…

Cyrus made his way up the hill overlooking the small, quaint town in its vicinity, reaching to the gates of the barracks and from the first glance the two guardsmen stopped him. “Stop right there. We mean no disrespect Imperial Wizard but let me save you some time. The militia of Streambrath have no interest in joining your or either side of this war. The town suffered enough already.” Cyrus nodded, knowing full well of the plights that Streambrath went through. The people seemed to receive the help they needed and the militia did their best to keep potential threats at bay, their mayor already declared that neither he nor the people are interested in joining either side of the war. “I’m not here for that. I’m here to speak to one of your officers.” Cyrus said, the two guards glanced at eachother in confusion and then asked “Who?”

A knock on the door interrupted the collective thoughts of officer Aleko at his desk, after admitting the recruit in, the young lad took a few quick steps until he was in the center of the small room and then saluted his superior. “Officer Frost, sir. Someone wants to talk to you….its..” a moment of silence passed in which the private was pierced by the officer’s gaze before he finished his declaration “…the Imperial Wizard…sir..” he said sheepishly and then hurried to let the important guest in, after the officer gave his consent ofcourse. The Imperial Wizard entered the room, dressed in flowing robes of white and yellow with little decorations, a pair of strong leather braces covering his wrists, his tanned skin was covered in strange symbols on the back of his hands and forehead, his hair and beard were snow white betraying his old age along with a set of wrinkles on his face, his slight hunch posture leaning on a tall and gnarled staff made of a gray wood which housed a large glowing bright blue orb at the top and a slightly tiered look upon his irony gray eyes. He was now standing where the recruit was a few minutes ago, introducing himself and giving a deep bow to the officer, an act which may have already brought a bit of confusion considering their respective ranks. Cyrus gazed at the young officer with his irony gray eyes, inspecting him for a moment. The young man in front of him may be of a different species but he was the spiting image of his father… Tall and well formed, the result of good physical labor, with a charming and comely visage of a harmonious mix between his two heritages. His fur was pure white and very fine unlike the shaggy coats of some of the pure blooded Anthros and his blonde hair was a fine silk combed to the side to compliment his facial features, his eyes were blue, a characteristic which he must have inherited from his mother. Cyrus was oddly relieved that he did not inherit his father’s unnatural red-eye coloration and he hoped that this young man will not follow in the footsteps of his predecessor. Before he could say anything, Aleko took the liberty to remind Cyrus of what the guards at the gates told him already told him, about Streambrath’s declaration of neutrality, clearly eager to end this visit and resume to his work. Cyrus was rather pleased to see this display of boldness, a good sign he deemed it. “Yes, I am well aware of this fact, officer Aleko but I am not here for this. I am here to talk to you.” The Wizard’s deep voice was soothing yet also a bit hoarse, betraying his age and his gaze never seemed to leave Aleko. The old Wizard proceeded to recollect about the civil war taking place in the Empire and of the 3 distinct factions that participate in it, once again he found himself cut-off mid-conversation by the officer, eager to get to the main point of this conversation. Cyrus lightly stomped his gnarled staff on the ground and then let go of it, the staff gently floating in place waiting patiently for its owner. The Wizard proceeded to lean with both hands on to the officer’s desk, standing face-to-face. He wanted to remark that Aleko’s boldness and eagerness is welcome yet he needs to keep his impatience in control for the future affairs….yet there would be no point in scolding him and as such he did as Aleko ‘requested’ . “As you may or may not know, we, the New Avalon Empire were searching for the last heir of the Sendrakon bloodline and aid this one to their ascension to the throne. That was our quest ever since the war began..” After he said that, Aleko cleverly pointed out that Cyrus was referring to this quest in the past tense, to which Cyrus only smiled. “Indeed… It WAS our quest. Because we have found him.” The Wizard then rose from the table and grabbed the floating staff behind him, leaving a few moments of silence before turning around and declaring

“That heir is you. Aleko Sendrakon”

The young Halfling rose, disbelief was clearly written all over his face. It was evident that he was unwilling to believe a single word of that…yet Cyrus stood calm and composed, his gaze still fixed at Aleko even as he appeared to panic a bit. The Wizard waited for him to state his disbelief and then spoke. “You are a clever man Aleko. I am sure that you noticed, at an early age perhaps, that you were….a bit misplaced among the family that rose you. You must have suspected that your mother was unfaithful yet you didn’t knew with whom, did you not?” Another moment of silence between the two passed. “Not many know of this…but, Asmuel had a number of...mmm..concubines which he was ‘seeing’ outside of his family. He was…careful most of the times yet there were some…” Cyrus let out another pause, trying to think of how to say this “..mmm…incidents. “ the old Wizard sighed and then regained his composure “Crude as it may sound. Your mother had dallied with the late emperor and from their union, you resulted. This makes you a bastard, yet it also makes you the last surviving heir to the throne, the last remnant of the Sendrakon bloodline.” The officer appeared overwhelmed, his gaze dozed off as if he was spacing in deep contemplation, obviously assimilating the earth-shattering information he had just received. The Wizard once again leaned closer to him “Aleko, I heard that you show great potential in your current profession. You are skilled, clever, meticulous and have an iron will that few can match. Have you never thought that perhaps, there was something out there for you? Something more than just a high position among the militia of a small town?” another moment of silence passed and Cyrus waited patiently until Aleko’s gaze was once again focused on him. “This is your great destiny Aleko. This war has already lasted far too long and the whole lands suffer from it. You can change all that. You can help end this war and bring back the peace and order that your ancestors established over Avalon for 1000 years.” The wizard then takes a few steps backwards “We need you..” Cyrus then dropped on one knee, bowing his head. “Avalon needs you, sire. “

The conversation was…shaky to put it mildly. Yet, in the end Aleko believed the Wizard, however preposterous the news, something inside the Halflings was telling him that he can believe the Imperial Wizard. Cyrus was asked to wait outside while Aleko packed his things and said his goodbyes to whomever he wanted, it didn’t take very long. When they were ready, Aleko and Cyrus were on their way to a place where the young heir would call his new home. Cyrus told him about the Escalyber, the flying fortress which will serve as his seat of power and the main headquarters of the New Avalon Empire, he also explained briefly about the current situation of the land and the war, surprisingly Aleko already seemed to be well informed on that subject considering that he was, until this point, in a neutral position. They talked a bit more, about what the responsibilities of this new prestigious position, about their struggle in the war up to this point and also, a bit of information about the opponents. “Allister Stormreaver, Brune Emberland and myself were the three advisors of your father. Allister and I also served your grandfather, Melthion. Brune was enlisted into his service quite late in his life, he only served for about 1 year before Melthion was found dead. After Asmuel’s death we all had different opinions on governing the Empire.” Cyrus was unsure if Aleko was listening to his words, the weight of the recent news was still fresh and he still needed some time to completely assimilate it all. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the time. “Allister believes that each Kingdom should rule itself independently, without some higher authority to control them. A noble thought, yet ancient history teaches us different…” The Wizard almost stumbled over a large log then, in such moments he could feel his aches and was reminded of his age. The little would-be-incident seemed to have caught Aleko’s attention if nothing else. “Pardon…” Cyrus excused himself and then resumed the conversation and the walk “As I was saying… Allister took this path and thus made the Old Avalon Empire. Brune, he is cut from a different cloth. He was the Imperial Cleric, the zealous, extremist type with his own personal cult of followers. He claims that the Empire should be ruled by divine right, that only those who are highly anointed by the Gods should hold this much power and responsibility. Ironically enough, he and a few others of his cult happen to fulfill this ‘requirement’. What is worse, he also claims the supremacy of the pure-blooded, it would seem that those born from the union of different races should be considered abominations and heralds of Ragnaroke” Cyrus let out a rather irritated ‘bah’ before turning his gaze at Aleko behind him “Because of this we should be most wary of him and his potential assassins.”

During the walk, Aleko was quite silent, only nodding or muttering a ‘mhm’ from time to time for reassuring that he was paying attention to the old Wizard’s words. After a while they reached the top of a large hillside overlooking a small forest at the edge of the small patch of land that was legitimately belonging to the people of Streambrath, once there, Cyrus stopped and turned around to face Aleko. “You will soon meet the important people of our faction and will be shown around the fortress. I will serve as your personal advisor so feel free to ask and request anything of me, sire.” Cyrus gave the Halfling a small bow while stating his position and then after Aleko nodded in acknowledgement, the Wizard removed one hand from his gnarled staff and placed it on Aleko’s shoulder. “Are you ready?” and after that, Cyrus lightly stomped his staff on the ground and a bright glowing pentagram formed right beneath their feet, enveloping them in its glow. A blinding flash and in mere moments they found themselves magically transported to a different location. Cyrus waited for Aleko to get his bearings and then he simply smiled “Welcome aboard the Escalyber, sire. A marvel forged from the combination of magic and engineering. Our flying fortress, hundreds of meters high in the sky, the main headquarters of our faction and your temporary seat of power until we win back Castle Sundragon from our foes.” The two were standing in what appeared to be a large hallway, decorated with a fine long red carpet, small vases housing lively colored flowers, a few large paintings hanging on one wall and tall, slim windows on the other, which revealed nothing but a pale blue endless horizon populated by vast amounts of white clouds. The Wizard indicated with his hand that Aleko should follow him, explaining that before anything he should be acquainted with the important rooms of the fortress as well as its more important residents.

After a short walk through the hallway and a trip up a flight of stairs, a large wooden double door was standing in front of them, upon opening it, Cyrus and Aleko walked inside a large room which was radically different compared to the hallways. The decorations was minimal if any at all, the walls appeared to be made of solid metal, the floor was simple wooden planks with no rug to cover them and the long streaks of metal that bound them all. A long dark iron walkway connected the entrance to the very front of the room, strange machineries found on either side, emitting faint noises of gears turning, small metallic parts moving, steam being blown and the occasional ‘zaps’ of electricity, with a few people dressed in worker’s clothes tinkering here and there. At the very front of the room was a very large window panel with another set of smaller machines in front of them, with many clocks and gauges dancing gently and a few more of the workers pulling levers, switching switches and reporting what they understood from the displays to the one who was presumably the man in charge here, a figure standing in the middle, facing the window. Cyrus urged Aleko to walk inside and closer to the man in the front while he presented the room “This is the Control Room, where our Captain steers the direction of our travels though the skies, sire.” The Wizard glanced over to see Aleko scanning the room with interest and then called “Captain. A moment of your time if you please. “ The man at the front was turning a bronze steering wheel with a miniature of a globe map of Avalon in its center, after hearing Cyru’s call, he briefly turned his head and then let go of the large handles, walked a few steps to the Wizard and Aleko to greet them. “Ah, welcome back aboard Mr. Weaverstar, sir. “ The Captain was a human with mid-length, raggedy, dark hair parted slightly to the side, a few strands draping over the black leather eye-patch covering his right eye. A stubble upon his cheek and chin along with a slight wrinkle under his one good, brown eye were marking him as a late worker. He was dressed in an elegant black and brown coat with a high collar, leather gloves and boots with bronze trims, a captain’s hat which he removed when he greeted Cyrus, a short falcion sheathed at his belt along with a small holstered pistol.

After welcoming the Wizard back, the Captain turned his attention to Aleko “Is this…?” Cyrus nodded and almost immediately the Captain gave Aleko a deep bow “Pardon me for not greeting you sooner, sire. Welcome aboard the Escalyber, the greatest flying engine and fortress, first of its kind and unique in every way.” After the Captain greeted Aleko, Cyrus proceeded with the introductions “This is Captain Bernard Redfoot. He has been at the helm of the Escalyber since it first lifted from the ground.” To which Bernard added. “I’ve steered this marvelous lady almost all over the Empire and will continue to do so until my last breaths gives out. Rest assured, sire, at this height we are safe from any unwanted attention and have a tactical advantage over the enemy. “ Just then, the conversation was interrupted by a short, bright flash of light in their vicinity. The result of a teleportation spell, similar to the one used by Cyrus, only much smaller. This spell, brought a new guest, a young Elf-Human hybrid woman with long blonde hair, dressed in a decorated version of the workers clothes worn by the people in the Control Room, a pair of goggles over her eyes which she removed almost instantly as she approached the Captain with her attention focused on a small notebook. “Captain Redfoot, sir. I finished checking the store-room and we should have enough provisions for everyone for another month. Provided no-one gets a sudden spike in their appetite, ofcouse..” Her report fell silent when she rose her gaze from her notebook only to see that the Captain, along with Cyrus and Aleko, were looking at her. After a few moments of silence, the girl widen her eyes at the realization of who the Anthro-Human Halfling actually was. Just like the Captain before her, she immediately bowed “ Excuse me! I’m sorry ! I.. I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation, sire.” Bernard tapped the girl on her back and chuckled “Relax, Anny. We were just making introductions. You came at the right time actually.” After the girl rose from her bow, the Captain introduced her. “Sire, this is Annastasya Wayfinder, my first-mate and the quartermaster here. We call her ‘Anny’. “ Anny now had a nervous smile on her face “It is a great honor to meet you, sire. Again, please pardon my sudden intrusion.” Cyrus couldn’t help but also smile yet he still needed to show Aleko around some more before the day was out. “Not to worry Annastasya, no harm done. We will take our leave now, thank you for your time Captain. “ Bernard bowed his head again and then placed his captain’s hat back on “Anytime, sir. It was an honor to meet you in person, sire. If you have any need of me you can find me here, in the Control-Room. And Anny will sometimes stick around here as well though most of the times she won’t stay in one place for long.”

The Captain then turned around and resumed his usual duties while Anny once again bowed her head and then vanished under the same flash of light which brought her here in the first place. Cyrus and Aleko passed through another hallway on the same floor, a few well armored and armed guardsmen were standing close to the walls, standing at attention when they walked passed them. “Those are members of the Imperial Guard” Cyrus explained while they took a right turn “They are some of the finest warriors of the land, charged with keeping you and all your belongings safe. While smaller in number these days due to the war, they can be counted on and will not disappoint. “ After a bit, a very large doorway was visible in the distance, the wooden doors were so large that they were closer to gates rather than simple doors. Yet, Cyrus lead Aleko in a different room, this one about as large as the Control-Room but with nowhere near an advanced technological look. The walls were decorated with portraits of royal looking people, small banners of the New Avalon Empire, large maps of different regions of the land and even two statues of Griffons located at each side of the entrance. A large floral themed carpet covered the finely polished wooden floor and in the center of the room was a large, massive-wood table with a map of Avalon engraved on its surface and many chairs adjacent to it. Inside this room, there were 7 distinct individuals, some where sitting at the table, others were standing, all were discussing various things yet it all felt silent once Aleko and Cyrus entered the room.

“This is the Council Chamber, sire. Here you will meet with the political envoys of each of the Kingdoms of the land, which are present right now…” the last part Cyrus whispered to Aleko before he placed a hand on his shoulder and urged him to take a few steps forward. “Esteemed envoys of the land…” Cyrus announced out loud. “..Allow me to introduce you all to Aleko Sendrakon, first of his name, last heir of the Sendrakon bloodline and rightful Emperor of Avalon .” Each of the 7 envoys were now standing and for a few moments they seemed to be inspecting Aleko, before they all bowed and then one after the other came to introduce themselves to their future ruler. The first was a Human male, with pale skin and short black hair, icy blue eyes and dressed in fine robes of white, blue and a cloak of a shade of purple with a silver badge shaped like a sharp pair of wings on all sides denoting some high honors. “An honor to meet you, sire. My name is Marcus Gwynpath, former ambassador of the Human Kingdom of Winterpeak, presented with the Honors of the Five-Wings and named Envoy of the 5 Human Kingdoms. At your service.” He appeared to be no younger than Aleko himself yet his voice, however soft spoken, betrayed the years of maturity he had over the young Emperor.

The next to introduce himself was an Anthro male. A gray wolf with a white snout and sky-blue eyes, dressed in some fine clothes denoting a higher-upbringing. A stylish black coat over a brown vest both decorated with golden buttons, a brown leather belt with a golden buckle, a pair of black stripped trousers and black finery leather boots. On his right hand he wore a fingerless leather glove while his left hand was replaced with a prosthetic forged of Anthro engineering and decorated to match his attire. He also wore a top-hat and in his prosthetic hand he held a cane with a golden tip. The Anthro walked close to Aleko and after studying for a few brief moments he declared “Hmm…Not as bad as I feared..” He then tossed his cane gently up, catching it by the middle and sheathing it in the underarm of his good arm and with his now free prosthetic hand he removed his hat in a fancy swooping motion while giving Aleko a deep bow. “Allow me introduce myself, sire. Eamon Weissnout, elder child and only son of the prestigious Weissnout family of Mathianous. Decorated businessman, chairman of Wissenhaut Corporation, envoy of the glorious Anthro Kingdom and refined gentleman, at your disposal and most honored to meet you in person, sire.” An air of sophistication could practically be felt around him and a confident grin was always present on his snout during this introduction.

The next one for introduction was a large man, reaching almost two heads above Aleko. This one was a Halfling, probably the most harmonious cross between an Orc and a Human that Aleko had ever seen. His skin was not the green of his Orchish ancestry but was more closer to the color of a Human giving the sharp features of his face a softness which resulted in a comely appearance. His eyes were brown, a sharp goatee decorated his chin and a short pair of sideburns reached down to his jaw-line, the tips of two small tusk-like teeth, common to any Orc, poked shyly through his lips and his long brown hair was tied to the back in a formal manner. He was dressed in a white shirt with a dark-blue formal suit of a simpler design with visibly less decorations than the other envoys. “Durran Windsteel, son of Harken Windsteel, warrior of the Air Wrath Clan and envoy of the Orchish people, at your service, sire. “ After that brief introduction he smiled and offered to shake Aleko’s hand “If you will permit me, sire, I look forward to work under your service and I assure you, what I lack in titles I make up in cleverness and skill. “ His voice was thick and harsh, typical for an Orc, yet it also contained a hint of softness and was full of confidence.

The next introduction came from the only woman in the room. A Dark Elven woman, with very pale skin and jet black hair worked in an elegant aristocratic fashion which suited her rather beautiful yet cold visage. She wore a black dress of a very fine, if a bit revealing, design decorated with many golden studs and embroidery along her slim torso, buffed lower dress and wavy sleeves. In the middle of her chest there was a large onyx gemstone in a golden setting wrought in the shape of a bat with its wings across her breasts. One distinguishable feature were her eyes, one was red and one was dark blue, betraying her as a Human – Dark-Elf Halfling. She approached Aleko and inspected him similar to how Eamon did earlier yet the only pre-introductory comment from her was a dismissive glance before she introduced herself. “Tis’ an honor to meet you, sire. I am Ethel Shroudmyr, daughter of the Shroudmyr family of aristocrats of Sheh’tara, capital of the Dark-Elven Kingdom, former high-Warlock of the ninth-circle, member of the small-council of the Dark-Elven people and one of the envoys of the Dark-Elven Kingdom.” She glanced over Aleko once more before commenting “This war has already taken its toll on the Empire and it will only continue to do so until it is ended and only one person sits the throne. Many lives and more depend on you, sire. I hope you will not disappoint.” Her voice had an elegance similar to a refined melody yet it also sent chills down the spines of any who hear her.

The one who introduced himself next was an Elf male with long elegant blonde hair with a few streaks of green denoting to a Druidic background along with the small greenish symbols tattooed on his forehead, cheekbones and inscribed on his clothes as well as with the slight green glow of his eyes which also symbolized a pure-breed. He was dressed in finery, a dark green elegant robe with a bright orange cloak over it, all of a unique Elven design and decorated with floral themes in white, faded black and green. The Elf made a few symbols in the air with his gloved hand in front of Aleko which could be interpreted to a form of greeting. “Nature’s blessings upon you, sire. I am called Ludwyn Groverunner, former High-Druid of the Emerald Council of Syla’anee, the capital of the Elven Kingdom, representative of the Goddess’ voice and envoy of the Elven people, a pleasure and honor to meet you, sire.” His voice was well honed and his words seemed carefully chosen and of good meaning but one couldn’t help but notice that he was keeping a serious visage with nary a trace of a smile.

Aleko had to lower his gaze for the next introduction since it came from a Dwarf. Probably the oldest of the bunch as denoted by his lush snow white beard and receding hairline, this Dwarf was dressed in a fine robe of a dark earthly color with a pale blue cloak overlapping his shoulders. His wrists were covered by a pair of strong looking leather bracers, in one hand he held what appeared to be a scroll covered with runic writing on both sides and in the other he grasped a short-staff made of an odd yet beautiful blueish stone with two prong spikes on the top and a glowing runic symbol apparently floating between. Runic symbols were also present on the back of his bracers, the hem of his robe, edges of his cloak, engraved on an amulet dangling around his neck, carved all over his short-staff and even a larger rune tattooed on the bald part of his head. “Oh my, you are tall for one of your kind, sire. Quite majestic, yes…yes.” The Dwarf then bowed his head “I am Gymor Cloudkeeper, 2nd son of the 26th generation of the Couldkeeper family, High-Bishop of the Runic Abbey of Hephonsgate, wondrous capital of the Dwarven Kingdom, member of the Council of the Forge and envoy of the Dwarven people. I predict that the gods and ancestors smile upon us with your arrival, sire.” His voice was well fitting with his visage and his age.

The last one to introduce himself was the most ominous fellow in the room. His skin was a pale gray and both his eyes and long hair were of blank white denoting that all life had left from him long ago. He was dressed in a strong dark gray leather vest with white embroidery and a wavy, elegant black coat over it, pale gray embroidery of flames and bats decoration his sleeves, shoulders, upper back and edges of his coat. Another thing worth noticing was that he was the only one carrying a weapon, a longsword sheathed in an elegant black scabbard matching the coat in design. The Undead gave Aleko a shallow bow “I’m honored to meet you in person, sire. I am called Korvius Frosthand and have the honor of being the envoy for the Undead Kingdom, more than that you need not known.” He then glanced briefly behind him at the other envoys and then promptly returned his attention to Aleko, a malicious looking grin ever-present on his face “I believe lengthy introductions are unnecessary for an efficient and good working relationship. I am certain that all of us will benefit from serving you, sire and that you will benefit from our services.” His tone of voice was confident, almost to the point of overly-confident.

After each of the envoys had introduced themselves, Cyrus offered a bit more information “The envoys are here to represent each of the nations of Avalon..” he then leaned closer to Aleko and whispered “..at least the parts of each kingdom that is loyal to our side..” the Wizard then urged Aleko to continue their tour of the fortress. “If you would excuse us now, honorable envoys, the Emperor must attend to his business for today.” All of the envoys then offered a variety of bows “We will be expecting you in the Council Chambers for important discussions daily, sire.” Said Ethel and then Marcus added “If you happen to need anything from us outside of the official hours, you will most likely find us in our respective chambers if not in one of the many hospitable chambers of your glorious fortress, sire.” Finally Eamon concluded with “ We are all privileged to had the honor of meeting you in person, sire. And I for one am anxious starting the our discussions on the morrow. Until then, I wish you a capital day and may you conclude your duties of today in a royal fashion, sire.” The rest of the envoys nodded in accordance and shortly after, Cyrus and Aleko took their leave, exiting the Council Chambers and now heading for the large gate-like doors that the Halfling no doubt spotted earlier. Once they approached them, two of the Imperial Guards opened the doors for them, revealing the largest room in the whole fortress. The floors were covered in fine white marble with a very large crimson carpet decorated with the large crest of the New Avalon Empire. The same crest could be seen on the banners that hung from the walls at either side behind the finely sculpted and decorated marble columns which lead forward to an uplifted platform where one could find the throne. The throne was rather simplistic in design yet still looked exquisite and fitting for any great leader of a nation, made of finely polished massive-wood engraved with golden decorations and cushioned with a fine red silken seat. On either side of the throne one could spot two smaller seats of an equal fine craftsmanship but with fewer decorative designs and from a distance it appeared as though a small person was already sitting in one of them. Cyrus lead Aleko across the large Throne Room with even more Imperial Guards on either side, separated by the columns, their armor glistening in the rays of the sun that peeked through the tall windows behind them. “This is the Throne Room, sire. The seat of your command where you will make decisions and attend to the responsibilities expected of an Emperor, at least until we win back the actual fortress that your ancestors occupied for many generations. Right now, this will have to do. It is vacant and rather desolated yet expect it to be much more active, starting tomorrow.”

Once they approached the throne, they could see clearly who and what it was that was seating one of the adjacent chairs next to the throne. A small boy, or rather, the skeleton of a small boy missing his lower jaw, dressed in finery with a backpack strapped to his back, a number of scrolls lugged in one arm and a pen held in the bony fingers of his other hand. The little Undead jumped from his chair and walked in front of Aleko, giving him a formal bow. Cyrus chuckled “This, sire, is a little fellow we call ‘Scribe’. Due to his…impairment he is unable to speak and thus cannot tell us his real name, nor does he appear to remember it anyway, thus the nickname. He is very skilled with writing and loyal to our cause, as such I made him your personal scribe who will document any events of importance starting tomorrow.” Scribe then quickly scribbled something on a scroll and in the blink of an eye offered it to Aleko, on it the little one wrote how honored he is that the great Emperor took the time to meet with him and how happy and anxious he is to document his glorious deeds to come. Cyrus smiled “It also appears that he loves his work.” Scribe nodded to that, confirming the observation.

After the Throne Room, Cyrus and Aleko departed down a flight of stairs and after a bit more walking they reached a room filled with many tomes and books of varying sizes. “This is the Library, sire. It contains much wisdom for those with the patience and will to search for it. When I am not at your side you will most likely find me either here or the Study.” This room had a much more traditional appearance than the others Aleko had visited so far and the outside noises from the rest of the Fortress almost seemed muffled, leaving this room in a peaceful silence. Once they left, Cyrus told him something a bit unnerving while walking to the next room. “Sire, for some time now, servants and workers have reported hearing strange noises coming from the Library at night. I sent some Imperial Guards to investigate and even looked around myself yet was unable to find anything, yet I hear that the noises still continue to this day. It could be nothing, of course, but I would recommend that for the time being, you do not linger in the Library at night. Just to be sure, sire.” Further away from the library they entered a room slightly smaller than the Throne Room. This one was far less imposingly decorated with finely crafted wooden panels replacing the marble and a number of large tables and chairs replacing the columns on each side of a large elongated red rug leading from the entrance to what appeared to be a large bar-table. Banners bearing the New Empire’s crest were hung high up the wall and a pair even dangled from the ceiling. Some of the workers and servants and even a few of the Imperial Guard could be spotted either sitting at some of the tables or on the bar-stools next to the bar itself. “This is the Dinner, sire.” Cyrus explained “This is where most of the workers, servants and guards can be found enjoying their off-duty hours. Quite a lovely place, if I may say so myself. Even some of our more esteemed guests seem to think the same.” Close to the bar one could see a familiar figure. Anny was talking something with a man wearing a white apron and pointing to something in her little notebook. After a few moments she turned around, spotted Aleko and Cyrus from a distance and gave a formal bow before once again vanishing in a flash of light. Before leaving, Aleko probably also spotted the envoys Durran and Marcus apparently engaged in a pleasant conversation while enjoying a drink of wine.
Further away from the Dinner and to the left, located roughly around the very center of the Fortress, Cyrus and Aleko stopped in front of another set of wooden double doors, these were distinguished from the others by their solid iron decoration wrought in the shape of two combating lions on their hind legs. Before entering Cyrus stopped and asked for Aleko’s attention. “Sire, behind these doors is the Map Room. In there you will meet with the generals of your armies and discuss combat, strategy and conduct the way we handle ourselves in this war. I will not lie that most of your time will most probably be spent inside this particular room, planning out the campaign, yet I feel I should inform you that the generals behind have and their armies have….made some sacrifices in the effort of finding you. This will be the first time they will meet you and while the envoys were soft-spoken, they will be…less eloquent as to the nature of their professions.” Perhaps the ‘warning’ was unnecessary considering that Aleko himself was an officer in the military before this day and would probably feel more familiar in a war-room rather than on a throne, yet the Wizard felt he had to inform his young Emperor beforehand anyway. Once the doors were open and Cyrus and Aleko entered, they found themselves in a large room of a more-or-less crude design compared to the others. The walls and floor were solid stone, the floors polished to the point of slightly glistening in the limited lighting which came from four lamps dangling from the ceiling and four small lampposts on each corner of the room. The walls were skillfully carved, displaying soldiers and scholars wrought in stone surrounding the room as if they were watching over those inside. On the wall opposite of the entrance was a large carving of the map of the whole of Avalon, occupying the entire wall.

In the center one could see a number of distinguishable people….arguing. The noises of their bickering was inaudible outside the room with the doors closed yet once inside their quarrels echoed seemingly all around. It was only until Cyurs stomped his gnarled staff on the solid stone floor to call for attention that the generals felt silent and all turned their attention at the new-comers. “Great generals, if I may have your attention, please. Allow me to introduce you to Aleko Sendrakon, first of his name, last remaining heir of the Sendrakon bloodline and rightful Emperor of..- “ Cyrus’ presentation was interrupted by one of the generals, a Dwarf who approached them in a fast pace for his size. “Can’ it Weaverstar ! We ‘all know who this ‘ere is an’ wha’ he’s suppos’ t’ be !” The Dwarf had a rugged appearance, long dirty-blonde hair swept back and held by a pair of goggles pulled over his forehead, a beard with absolutely no decorations whatsoever, strong facial features and small black squinting eyes which gave the impression that he could pierce right through you with his gaze. Dressed in a plated chest-piece with a sturdy leather coat over it, lined with shaggy fur along the collar and lightly plated on the shoulders, similar to the plating on his knees over his beige leather trousers, on his reinforced black boots and on the forearm of his left hand. On his right hand he had what appeared to be a strange machination of a firearm strapped to his arm.

After the Dwarf’s outburst, another general approached, a Human who addressed his colleague. “The only one who will can’ it will be you, Bojor ! Like it or not, he is our Emperor and you will show proper respect !” The Human General was tall and sturdy in spite of his apparent age. His long hair was gray and swept to the back staying out of his face which only helped to display his rugged visage, wrinkles found from his eye and nose slants and in the corners of his mouth as well as on his forehead. A bushy pair of gray sideburns made their way down to his sharp jaw-line and a series of lacerating scars were found on the left side of his face, one especially harsh was across his left eye which apparently robbed him of the vision of that eye. He was dressed in a chainmail doublet with platings on his chest, shoulders, elbows and thighs, each of the lightly decorated along with his gauntlets and boots to denote a high ranking military position. On his hip there was an elegantly looking lonsword sheathed in a scabbard of a simple design, his arm resting on the pommel. After hearing that, the Dwarf turned his attention to the Human “Fouck you’ respect , Duncan ! I jus’ lost good men tryin’ tha’ make sure tha’ Emberland’s Gods damn’ Pursuers lost ou’ trail ! An’ all fer’ this pretty wolfling?! “ The Dwarf general was pretty steamed and judging by his stance he was just about ready to go for blows with the Human general who seemed equally prepared. Luckily it did not come to that, as another of the generals called for the Dwarf to calm himself, an Undead judging by his appearance “Ser Duncan is right. We all had losses in this campaign and lashing out to each other is most assuredly NOT the solution !” This general had a softer appearance than his other two colleagues, his skin was pale gray with apparently a shade of blue, his head was shaved clean and a small cropped black goatee was visible on his chin. His eyes were blank with a faint, sickly, greenish glow which denote a practitioner of Necromancy which is confirmed by the large spider tattoo display over his face and by his attire composed of a heavy black and green robe, decorated with silver embroidery displaying runic scribbling. Dark-gray metallic platings could be found on his gorget, shoulders, gauntlets and boots. All platings appeared to have their edges wrought in the shape of spider joints and another pair of spiders decorated his shoulder-plates with tiny emerald beads for eyes. His gauntlets gave the appearance of cloven talons for fingers and in their grasps there was a solid metallic staff with a green orb wrought in the shape of a skull as its head-piece with metallic tendrils that sprouted underneath gripping it tightly from all sides, making their way through the eye-sockets and the open mouth ; while the other hand rested on a heavy tome bound to a thick leather plate by a pair of solid chains. When the Undead general made his voice heard, another one promptly approached him, an Elf. “What do you know of losses?! Your warriors are ‘losses’ from the very start! Must be easy to fight a war when you don’t care about the lives of your men, since they have none… “

The Elf general was tall and slim, yet in an athletic fashion. His long hair was gray with a few near undistinguishable stripes of pale blonde and swept back reaching almost to his lower-back. Clean shaven which displayed a rough face with sharp features due to his wrinkles which betrayed his age, a rare sight among Elves which indicate to a mix of races. His slanted pale green eyes gave you the impression that he was always looking at you akin to a potential enemy…or prey. He was dressed in a strong, reinforced forest-green leather outfit tightly worn with many straps and studs in various places along with light platings on the shoulders, forearms, chest, thighs and legs, all with a slight greenish tint wrought in the shape of leaves and scales. Around his neck he wore a short dark-green cloak with pale-black floral embroidery. A pair of slightly curved Elvish swords were sheathed at his hips and a larger version was sheathed on his back. After the Elven general’s remark, the Undead gripped his nose-bridge in annoyance for a moment before responding in a more irritated tone “You are missing the point ! The mission was accomplished, we gave the Pursuers the slip and more importantly we managed to bring the Emperor aboard without anyone being the wiser..-“ He was cut-off by the Dwarven general who still appeared to be angry “Aye, mission’ foucken acomplish’d. You’re one ta’ look at’ tha’ bright side since’ none o’ YOUR men wer’ involved an’ onl’ MY boys pay’d tha’ foucken price!” Another voice, this one sounding even angrier, made itself heard, the one who spoke was a muscular Orc “You all need to shut your fucking traps before I rip your tongues out !” The Orc general was clearly a pure-breed of the ‘big-mouth’ sub-species of Orc as indicated to his size which pretty much dwarfed everyone in the room and as well as to his rough and brutish visage only complimented by a short-cut, moustache-less , gray beard and the large tusk-like teeth emerging from his mouth reaching almost to the nose-line. His small eyes were pale blue which added an oddly soft characteristic for an Orc of his breed along with his shoulder-length, slightly curled, chestnut brown hair with plenty of gray stripes visible. He was dressed in a simple brown leather doublet with a chestplate strapped on his massive torso, a pair of reinforced dark-brown leather gloves with plantings on the back of the hand similar to those on his boots. His left shoulder was distinctively heavier armored than his right yet the right shoulder-plate was decorated with a gray wolf-skin which spread to a half-cloak on his back, the wolf’s head made to look as if it was biting on the clasp with his fangs. The Orc was resting his left arm on a large sword sheathed on his hip, any ordinary man would need to use both hands when wielding it yet the way he was carrying indicated the fact that he could properly handle it with only one. “His warriors didn’t take part in this mission, yet mine did alongside with yours, Bojor, so we both lost good men ! “ he continued “But they accomplished the task set upon them and died on the open battlefield with a weapon in hand. For a warrior there is no higher honor and I bet both of our hides that they now stand among their ancestors with pride, or they would if you didn’t shame them by losing your shit over their glorious battle ! “ The Dwarf and the Orc were now standing in the middle of the room, face-to-face, throwing angry glares at eachother and judging by their stances ready to jump into a fight. “So I will tell you once again…Shut your mouth and calm the fuck down or I will make you…” the Orc said in a menacing tone, his stern gaze affixed down at the Dwarf who only returned the favor.

A few moments of tensioned silence passed until one of the two generals yet to speak made her voice heard. “Alright, alright…” The Anthro general announced as she approached her two rage-stricken colleagues . She was a tall and slender person, most probably due to her mixed heritage. She was a Human-Anthro Halfling as indicated by her harmonious mix of characteristics similar to Aleko. She lacked a tail and whiskers while her fine and short fur was white; her snout was short and less pronounced while here other facial features were softly resembling those of a comely Human female. Her large eyes were a pale shade of green-blue which appeared to be glistening in the right light. Her dark teal hair was shortly cropped, nigh-on reaching her shoulder-line, her round mousey ears were smaller and apparently were easily concealed by the dark-brown, simple designed top-hat that she wore. She was dressed in a simple dark-brown leather corset, black cloth trousers stuffed in a pair of above-the-knee high leather boots, on her hands she wore a pair of simple, fingerless black cloth gloves that reached to her elbow while her shoulders, neck and biceps were revealed. An outfit clearly designed for high-mobility of which one would assume she has plenty of as indicated by her weaponry, a pair of pistols holstered on each side of her hips, many small flat pockets lined the outer sides of her boots which possibly contained ammunition and a pair of daggers cross sheathed on her lower-back. She approached and placed one hand on each of the two angered generals without so much as a trace of fear in both her actions and her tone as she spoke “You two need to either step aside, or we should all start placing bets.” Another few moments of silence passed while her gaze switched back and forth between the Orc and the Dwarf all the while their own gazes never left eachother. Finally she rested her hand on the arm of the large Orc while calmly calling a “Come on…play nice…You’re embarrassing yourselves, you know.” and then her gaze shifted to the Orc as she muttered a “…Please?” to which the Orc glanced in her direction and after a few brief moments he sighed deeply and then turned and walked a few steps away which the Dwarf did the same shortly after.

The Anthro general then glanced once again at the two before throwing her hands in the air as a sign of relief and exhaling a “Alright..”. The last general yet to talk apparently decided to walk out of the shadows until he was standing relatively next to the Anthro. “Pardon this…misunderstanding, sire. You didn’t exactly caught us at a good moment.” He said, addressing Aleko. This one was the Dark Elf General, a tall figure with sharp features. His long silver hair was swept to the back and tied in two simple braids which fell over his shoulders while the rest draped over his back nearly as long as the Elven general’s. His sharp, bright purple eyes complimented his slick facial features, giving the appearance of a stone-cold killer, which would probably be not far from the truth. He was dressed in a strong reinforced dark gray leather outfit with many straps and buckles. His chest, and gloves were plated with a cold, pale gray metal, his shoulder plates were wrought in the shape of interlocking, large, pointy scales spreading all the way down his arm to his elbow making a slight clinking sound whenever he moved, the plating from his knees down to his feet were in a similar fashion. Around his neck he wore a dark purple half-cape with a golden trim and a high collar for a hood which he kept unbuttoned and open. At his hip he bore a pair of curved swords along with a pistol holstered beneath. After he spoke, the Anthro general placed her hands on her hips and gave him a disapproving glance “No thanks to you, Caine. You just slipped away and watched like usual.” The Dark Elf let out a muttered “bah..” before responding with “It’s not my fault that some of our colleagues find it hard to hold their hot tempers under control. They’re generals of their respective nations, they should learn to have a steady grip on their emotions.” The Dwarf general pulled a thick cigar from under his coat and then addressed the Dark Elf with “I’l hold a steady grip on ye’ neck if ye’ keep talkin’ like tha’…” and then proceeded to light his cigar and take a long smoke from it. His tone of voice was deep and slightly irritated but not angry anymore, the Dark Elf general simply sighed and muttered a “Dwarves…” while shaking his head slightly.

Finally Cyrus sighed deeply and leaned heavily on his staff “Generals, please ! “ After a few brief moment in which everyone was silent and paying attention to Cyrus, he added “As I was saying before…Emperor Aleko Sendrakon is here to make your acquaintances before resuming to the rest of his duties of today.” The Wizard’s voice sounded tiered than before , a possibility judging by the way he was leaning on his gnarled staff, Aleko probably wondered how he managed to last this long under such conditions, perhaps he was actually younger than he appeared and only aged like that through all this. Regardless, all of the generals proceeded to introduce themselves properly to their new ruler, starting with the Human. The old general stood at attention and saluted Aleko with respect as he introduced himself “Sire, I am Ser Duncan Primelyt, Knight Commander of the Paladin Order and General of the Human forces from the 5 Human Kingdoms.” Duncan ended his salute and then inspected Aleko for a brief moment before adding “With all due respect, sire. While I disagree with my colleague’s…approach..” he briefly glanced behind at the Dwarf who was still smoking his cigar with an irritated look on his face, “However, I agree with his observation. However crude it may sound, you appear far to unseasoned for a task of this magnitude. It may be the result of your…special upbringing, but, however understandable it may be, I hope that you will learn quick and gain experience swiftly if we are to hope for any victory.” Duncan’s good eye then glanced at Cyrus for a few moments before returning to Aleko “Of course, we will be here to aid you to the best of our abilities, afterall this is OUR campaign, however, you are expected to carry your own weight as nobody will do it for you. Sire..” Duncan then bowed his head, saluted and stepped aside for the next general to approach.

The Undead general approached Aleko and offered a deep bow “Sire, it is an honor to meet you though I would have wished it were under better circumstances. I am called Markov Ashadde, High Necromancer of Deyja and have the honor of being the general of the Undead forces.” Markov let out a slight sigh “I apologize for the display of my colleagues, but it is understandable. Brave and good men have given their lives to ensure that you safely arrived here, they only wish for their sacrifice to not be in vain.” Markov dropped his gaze for a moment and ended with “It all depends on you to make it so, sire. “ and he stepped aside for the next general.

The Elven general introduced himself next, giving Aleko a shallow bow and resting both of his hands on the pommels of his swords. “I am Marteen Leafdancer, sire. Also known as the “War-Dancer”, Commander-in-chief of the Elven Ranger-corps and general of the Elven forces. “ Marteen’s stern gaze was ever-present during the whole conflict and his introduction as well. “There is little left to say, sire. Let your actions speak for themselves and let the people judge your worth as a leader.” He concluded and walked aside for the next general.

The Orc general attempted to walk and introduce himself next but the Anthro bypassed him with a playful display of dexterity and maneuverability and approached Aleko with a cheery tone. “Hey, how are you doing, sire?” She then gave Aleko a strange bow, her arms were open as if waiting for a hug, she pivoted her upper body in a bowing manner while still keeping eye-contact with her ruler. “I’m called Pepper Bulkwyn. Yeah, I know, why would anyone be called ‘Pepper’? Ask my parents, they probably thought it’s cute or something, I don’t know.” Cyrus was heard letting out a slight sigh “Anyway, I’m a decorated General Field Marshal of the Elite Ranger corps and selected general of the Anthro forces, at you service, sire.” While Marteen had an apparent permanent stern gaze, Pepper seemed to have a permanent smile on her face. “I know its hard to believe all that from looking at all this..” she indicated to her body from up to down “..but trust me, its all true. This is my ‘off-the-field’ outfit.” She chuckled, stepped aside, turned her head back at Aleko, concluded with “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad to see another Anthro Halfling around here, sire.” and then made way for the Orc general to introduce himself.

The Orc general towered over Aleko similar to how Durran did, instead of bowing, the general offered to shake Aleko’s hand “Honored to meet you, sire. I am Rougan Stonestorm, chieftain of the Black Stone Clan and general of the Orc forces. “ Rougan then inspected Aleko for a moment and rose an eyebrow in confusion then adding “Hmmm…I thought you would be taller…” A moment of silence passed and Rougan chuckled lightly “Well, they say that the more concentrated doses are the strongest. I suppose you will show us just how strong you are latter on, correct, sire?” And with that he stepped aside for the next general to approach.

The Dwarf general walked towards Aleko, puffing smoke from his cigar. Once he approached the Halfling, he drew a longer puff , perhaps with the intention making Aleko wait. When he was done he introduced himself while still having that irritated look upon him. “Aye, nice ta’ meet ya’ an’ all tha’t, ‘sire’. “ the last word sounded like a slur by the way he spoke it. “I’m Bojor Ironfist also known as’ tha’ ‘Iron Engineer’, ever hear’d o’me? Nah’ I’l imagine not. Don’ matter, I’m tha’ general o’ the proud Dwarven forces, apparen’ly sworn ta’ serve ye’.” He took another smoke of his cigar “Joy o’ joy…” he muttered and then followed with “I s’pose ye’ expect me ta’ apologize fo’ me outburst earlier eh’ ? Well don’ hold ye’r breath. I’l say’ ‘sowwy’ once ye’ prove tha’ them sacreface’ be worth’it .” Bojor took one last smoke before dropping the cigar but on the floor and stomping on it while he concluded with “Until tha’n, let’s be clear ‘ere. I’l work fo’ ye’r scrawny arse but onl’y cuz’ I have ta’. So…lookin’ forward ta’ seein’ ye’ in action, sire…” and he walked to the side for the last general, the Dark Elf to make his introduction.

The Dark Elf general gave Aleko a deep bow and the proceeded with “Unlike our obvious temperamental colleague..” he glanced briefly at Bojor who muttered under his breath “..keep talke’n Elf an’ I swear…” and then he continued “…I am truly honored to meet you in person, sire. I am Caine Planestalker, once personal bodyguard for a member of the High Council of Warlocks, then enlisted as a Beastmaster and steadily rose through the ranks until I became what I appear before you, the general of the Dark Elven forces. At your disposal. “ Caine also took a few moments to inspect Aleko and then crossed his arms. “With all due respect, sire. I can understand my colleagues’ doubts in your..abilities. However, I like to believe that a strong Emperor won’t rely solely on strength alone and will be wise enough to use all resources at his disposal.” A sly smirk crossed Caine’s face at that moment before he concluded with “We shall see, I suppose. Won’t we, sire?” and joined the rest of his colleagues.

[Zamokra41] - Avalon Empire - [MachineSoul]

REFERENCE IMAGES

Characters

ENVOYS

Durran Windsteel

Eamon Weissnout

Ethel Shroudmyr

Gymor Cloudkeeper

Korvius Frosthand

Ludwyn Groverunner

Marcus Gwynpath

GENERALS

Bojor Ironfist

Caine Planestalker

Duncan Primelyt

Markov Ashadde

Marteen Leafdancer

Pepper Bulkwyn

Rougan Stonestorm

OTHER

Cyrus Weaverstar XII

Bernard Redfoot

Annastasya Anny Wayfinder

Cyndia Stonewan

Reginal Silvertail

Gudwyn Earthward

Tchun

Stephen Hawke

Locations

Escalyber

Control Room

Council Chamber

Throne Room

Dinner

Map Room

Library

Engine Room

Research Chamber

Sick Bay

Royal Study

Royal Bedroom

Song List

Opening Theme = Enclave - Light01b

Coronation = Legend of Grimmrock 2 - Main Theme

Battle of Castle Northspark = Total War: Shogun 2 - Ona Hei

[MachineSoul] - I, Ninja - [Zamokra41]

Being startled was an understatement for Sylas who was immediately yanked from mid-apology and pushed into the large empty tanker from where he took the suit. Wulfus hasted him and then covered the tanker with a large blanket in an effort to hide his one guest from the new one. The wolf was still and quiet, listening to the conversation between Wulfus and who appeared to be his sister, Wulfina. The wolf’s whole body ached yet he gritted his teeth and endured it for secrecy’s sake, being still and quiet…. Not hat he could move much anyway. The suit ran out of battery a little while ago and without it being ‘active’, Sylas could feel its weight on him. Albeit not unbearable but still noticeable. The aches and the fatigue would have to wait however as the wolf was paying more attention to the conversation outside. At first it sounded like Wulfina was scolding her brother for locking the door….most probably in an attempt to buy a bit of time to hide Sylas. This made the burdened the wolf’s conscience further as now not only has he been far to reckless with Wulfu’s creation but his recent actions also sprung a quarrel between siblings. At one point in the conversation it appeared as if Wulfina found out about everything and Wulfus was also about to confess. Luckily that was not the case and Wulfus managed to regain his composure before saying anything. After a while his guest left and now a mentally exhausted Wulfus removed the cover from the tanker and after a brief inspection of the damage, told the wolf to remove the suit, in a commanding tone. Sylas obeyed without any remark. With a few small grunts of ache he took off each part as carefully as he could not wanting to cause any more damage. Wulfus returned after the wolf stripped down and in the same commanding tone told him to take a shower. The stench of Syla’s previous hiding place was evident to him as well so he headed straight to the bathroom and in the small shower cabin. The water fell over him akin to the rain from outside, but this time whit no advanced suit in its way. The wolf must have felt truly numb as only after a few solid moments did he notice the the water was far to cold. With a sigh he adjusted the temperature…slightly. His bruises ached, now more so, since the water was no longer as cold and didn’t numb out the pain. Yet, the physical pain was nothing compared to the spiritual wounds that he suffered through his remorse.

Sylas was upset. Upset with himself. He was overcome by his emotions and like a child with a brand new toy, let his excitement get the better of him. Sylas could read Wulfu’s frustration on his face just earlier, without a doubt he was now regretting ever having given his precious work on the hands of his guest. Sylas clenched his fists to the point where it started to hurt and after a few moments of contemplation he slapped both his palms on his face, the water splashing in all direction inside the shower cabin. He huffed heavily. There was no point in him beating himself up anymore. He made a mistake, he will apologize, try to make amends for it and hope that Wulfus would forgive him. There was nothing more left to do in that regard. So, after washing and then drying himself with a large towel, the wolf walked back in the lab where Wulfus was waiting with a first-aid kit, treating his bruises in silence. Once that was done, Sylas dressed back in his old clothes and sat down facing Wulfus. Before he could say anything however, Wulfus spoke first.

“The suit- the suit worked. It has an obvious power issue I must look into, the external antenna is too flimsy, I've yet to calibrate the software and I'd might look into a better boot design, you were a bit unsure with these ones. Otherwise, it worked. It wasn't the test-run I expected, but it performed excellently, I'm especially happy with the reflex systemics: it save your life four times. Damage looks superficial, most of the crash-landing shock was absorbed by the exoskeletal muscles, but I don't see any hydraulic leaks to give away a muscle tear or rupture. I'll analyze the data tomorrow. You go to sleep in the bed, I take the couch and we'll talk in the morning, I'm sure we can make something out of this once our brains are fresh again. Agreed? “

Sylas simply nodded. He felt undeserving of Wulfu’s display of hospitality yet he didn’t want to comment…nor did he have any occasion to reply before Wulfus left the lab and threw himself on the couch. Sylas walked sluggishly to the bed and placed himself with just a bit more care than Wulfus. Sleep would barely come however, Sylas was rustling, never really finding a comfortable spot. He felt tiered yet couldn’t sleep and ended up recalling of the day’s events in his mind. It started off pretty ordinary, traveling to yet another city in another county in this large world trying to find something he wasn’t even sure he could find. Meeting with Wulfus and learning about his work as well as being offered the chance of testing out a marvel such as this was the highlight of the day. The experience was priceless and yet the consequences dire….
That night he did not rest easy. He rustled in one side of the bed, managed to drift off for a few minuets before shuffling again and repeating the process over and over, all the while his thoughts were flying in many different directions. He contemplated today’s events, tried to think of ways how he could make amends for his transgression, even reassuring himself that it will be fine in the end…probably. Along with that, he thought about his past. Recalling his youthful days, most of which were spent studying and training with his grandfather, all the valuable lessons he learned and the wisdom that was passed down to him.

Yet the most valuable memories of his past were related to a different person. Most of the times Sylas tried not think about it but there were occasions when his mind simply drifted by itself and he couldn’t help but recall those memories, which most often bring nostalgic feelings of joy smudged with sorrow. He sighed deeply and then shuffled once more, this time lying on his back and facing the ceiling. Now was not the time for such thoughts, then again, when if ever a good time for those? He lifted his arm and placed it on his face, covering his eyes, trying to forcefully bring sleep to him. However, before he could realize, it was morning. He heard Wulfus get up yet he himself was lying still not making a sound. Before he would ‘officially wake up’ , Sylas wanted to try and clear his head for all the running thoughts of last night. A process which apparently took long enough for Wulfus to make breakfast for the both of them. The wolf sighed once he finally decided to get up and stretch his bones, his aches acting up again in the process yet thankfully they were nowhere near as bad as yesterday.

Upon entering the lab, Sylas found Wulfus already in front of a console screen with two plates of what looked like a cheesy mess of eggs and two cups of steaming coffee next to them. “Ohayoo...Wulfus-san..” the wolf greeted and was then acknowledged by Wulfus and was offered a seat on the same tool cupboard he sat yesterday when it all began. He seated himself and almost immediately proceeded to take a long sip of the coffee. A slight wince crossed his face as the brew burned his tongue and left a strong, sour aftertaste, yet he didn’t complain. On the console, Wulfus was viewing a recording of last night’s events, captured by the cameras of the suit’s helmet. The wolf wondered what exactly Wulfus was looking for on that and oddly enough, without him voicing his inquiry, Wulfus shared his thoughts.

“I'm trying to look for anything to put an ID tag on these guys. Whoever they were, they were pretty well organized; too organized to be some small-time gang and way too bold for a mafia clan. All in all, we made quite a mess of their operation, I only hope that it was a good thing we did there." Sylas remained silent and dropped his gaze on the plate of food in front of him. Whoever those men were, it was clear that whatever they were doing was nothing good. They were well equipped, tightly organized and ready for most circumstances save for the most improbable and unexpected there was. Such as a nosy wolf in a high-advanced suit showing up and crashing their party, for instance. Sylas then rose his gaze back at Wulfus, a spark of regret flashing in his eyes due to last night’s events. The last thing he wanted was to attract unwanted attention to Wulfu’s creation and he feared that it is exactly that which happened last night. Yet, to Syla’s disbelief, his friend smiled at him.
"I'm not mad at you, Sairasu-san, though I was really afraid. Afraid that you'd might end up dying because I had the stupid idea of strapping that thing onto you; that and losing my suit, in all honesty. I've worked a lot on it, it's my trademark and last night, it definitely proved its worth. So I must say: I am sorry for putting you through this, but I also thank you for giving me the opportunity to have my creation, my child tested on the field. Properly so. I think I found a dent in the back torso piece where a bullet hit you: it's a light scrape with some tiny lead residue stuck in the fiber. So there's that. “

The wolf was speechless…more so than usual. He was far to reckless last night and his actions could have cost him his life several times over as well as losing the suit that Wulfus worked so hard on. Yet Wulfus was for more concerned about his well-being and was glad that his creation did not sustain any ‘significant’ damage. To top it all off, he was sorry as if all that was his doing. “Wulfus-san…. No. I…” he muttered but Wulfus didn’t seem to hear him.

“But right now, I'm trying to figure just who these guys were. They're good at organizing their stuff, there's been no reports of a robbery on the news, neither the VTOL firing down at you. Whatever you interrupted there got them mad enough to break several ethical laws and thing is, they didn't expect something to go wrong; that's a sign that these guys are big, big enough to be confident that no one would dare to oppose them. It can't be simple crooks, nor mafia, nor some criminal syndicate. It has to be something much more dire: a PMC. What would they want from the bank, I don't- hold on. You picked something up?" The screen on the console displayed just that and Sylas widen his eyes, recalling the event. He indeed noticed an odd object in the possession of one of those men and instinctively took it with him as he made his escape. "Why don't you bring it to me?" Sylas nodded at Wulfus request and proceeded to recover the item. In a few moments, the wolf presented to Wulfus a keychain with two small, bulky keys attached to it. They looked especially old and in this day and age one could only wonder what they could open. Before anything however, the wolf had something he wanted to take off his chest, as such before seating himself he called for Wulfu’s attention.

“Wulfus-san… I wanted to apologize…. Yesterday you were kind to invite me to your home and your companionship and showed me the great works that you were doing and the accomplishment, which is that amazing suit. You even offered me the chance to be the first to use it and test it’s capabilities out in the open. You offered me a great experience and yet…” Sylas clenched his fists “..And yet I took advantage of that. I knew that it would not be long before the suit’s battery would run out and the wisest action was clearly to return here and give you my report. Yet…. I am sorry…my emotions took the better of me and I ended up straining its capabilities as well as getting involved in something that we know nothing about and most probably do not want anything with. Above all, I was too reckless with your creation and ended up damaging it. I even caused a small conflict between you and your sibling due to my sloppy return… I know it is unforgivable, yet I promise you that I will find a way to make amends for my mistakes last night and something like that will not happen again. “ The wolf took a deep breath. “So, Wulfus-san…” Sylas then proceeded to lower himself in a seiza sitting position on the floor and then lowered himself even further buy touching the ground with his forehead in a prostration manner. “Yurushite kudasai..” (Please forgive me)

[MachineSoul] - I, Ninja - [Zamokra41]

Sylas had entered a quasi meditation while gazing in the horizon from the top of the ‘beast’ he had just conquered, enjoying it all with a smile. That mediatory state was however broken by a small flashing icon on the internal screen of the helmet, after a few moments the icon disappeared and was replaced by none other than Wulfu’s angry rants towards the wolf’s abusive performance on the whole test drive. Sylas felt guilt building up as the hybrid pointed out his recklessness with all those mad stunts, he was right after all. The suit was the result of Wuluf’s hard labor and dedicated passion, as such Sylas couldn’t allow anything bad to happen to it due to him being ‘in the moment’ or something. Yet, after the rant, the hybrid was actually laughing. It would appear the suit’s functions exceeded his expectations and that overjoyed him, enough to actually thank the wolf for his previous reckless behavior that he condemned earlier. With all said and done, Wulfus suggested that it was past time Sylas returned as the suits battery wouldn’t hold out much longer. With a prompt nod, the wolf was about to turn around to find a ‘proper’ way of getting down from here….when he was interrupted by Wulfu’s warning.

"Sylas! On your right! Hide!"

The wolf turned his head to the right just as the silhouette materialized in a bulky male wearing some sort of black overalls and a gas mask. Hiding was no longer an option as the person was now armed with a stun baton and called out to the suited wolf.

"You there! Stop where you are, hands in the air! Who sent you, WHO are you?"

Sylas frowned. Instead of being concerned for his own safety he was rather more interesting who exactly this person was. Judging by looks, it couldn’t be a law enforcer….more like a law-breaker. A robber then? That’s when Sylas recalled that he the Harris Bank was in the vicinity. Just his luck, he just happened to be interrupting an apparent bank robbery. A second person then appeared behind the first, this one drew a taser-gun and was whispering something through a communication device, probably reporting to his superiors that their heist had been rudely interrupted by stranger. With the suit’s enhancements, both Sylas and Wulfus managed to hear what the second man was communicating and it was clear that they had no intention of letting Sylas escape. No witnesses and all that. Interesting enough though, they wanted to capture him alive rather than kill him. Sylas let out a brief and inaudible chuckle. Perhaps they had some sort of competitors on bank heists and were thinking Sylas was one of them. Regardless of what they thought, it was clear that it would come to blows as the bulky one with the stun baton charged at Sylas with a hefty swing all the while Wulfus was audibly panicking through the helmet’s communication system. The wolf didn’t assume any form of stance not even as he was charged, he appeared relax and open which what he wanted his foes to believe. Promptly, he grabbed the robber’s hand before he was hit and applied pressure which was enhanced by the suit, enough to hear a slight crackling sound from his opponent’s wrist as Sylas twisted his grip, making the bulky man drop his weapon and fall to one knee while letting out some muffled groans of pain.

Seeing that his partner was being somehow immobilized by the trespasser, the second robber quickly aimed his taser-gun in panic at the wolf. Sylas however knew full well of this and used the precious moments before the weapon was fired, to grab the bulky by the back of the neck and pull him up in front of him, effectively using him as a human-shield. The metal prongs of the taser-gun had been fired and they punctured the upper-abdomen of the bulky human-shield, delivering high-voltage shocks and sending him into unconsciousness. Fulfilling his purpose, Sylas dropped his defender and with a quick lunge he was now right in the masked face of his second foe who let out a sharp yelp of panic and surprise at the situation. The wolf then grabbed the robber by the lower edge of his gas mask with his left hand and with his right he pressed his index and middle finger into his abdomen akin to a hook. With a small feat of strength due to the suit’s enhancements, the robber found himself being lifted off his feet, making a ‘U-turn’ right above Syla’s head before ultimately crashing head-first on the ground next to his partner. The wolf was holding back as he did not intend to kill, as such the force of the crash didn’t break his foe’s neck but was sufficient to knock him out cold and most probably leaving him with a really annoying head-ache. Throughout this encounter, the suit’s display would reveal that his heart-rate and stress levels were nowhere near as high as they were before when the wolf was jumping rooftops. Sylas was calm and concentrated, taking slow breaths. An old rule of combat that his grandfather taught him, the warrior who panics and exerts himself first will be the warrior to lose the battle. With his 2 opponents down, Sylas was keeping alert in case they had more friends lurking around.

“Wulfus-san, any idea who these men are?”

Wulfus was not responding yet Sylas could clearly hear him on the other end…mumbling something? Was he talking to someone else or…?

“Wulfus-san?”

Hearing movement, Sylas turned around to see 2 more persons in similar garb, each armed with a stun baton. Like that wasn’t enough, 3 more were dangling above by ropes attached to a large VTOL hovering above, the source of the noise. That actually made Sylas gulp, what kind of robbers would be THAT organized and could afford something like a freaking VTOL for a bank heist. Pondering the possibilities would have to wait for another time as he was being charged at again, this time by 2 of them at the same time. Sylas managed to side-step out of range, making the two attackers miss and curse in annoyance before trying to swing at the wolf again. This time their attacks weren’t as synchronized as earlier and Sylas grabbed the first one’s hand in a similar fashion as he did with the other bulky assailant, however this time he didn’t apply pressure to disarm him, instead he jerked his foe’s hand backwards, making masked robber slightly lose his balance but more importantly the wolf poked the other attacker around the collarbone area with his partner’s own weapon. Sylas forced the grip, shocking the other robber enough until he fell on his back. Once he was done, Sylas twisted his grip making the robber he had grabbed curse in a mix of rage and pain before being forced to open his palm and let the stun baton slip down where the suited wolf caught it with his other hand and then whacked it’s owner over the head with his own weapon, knocking him out. Sylas released his grip and tossed the stun baton away as his latest attacker collapsed to the ground, that’s when he heard Wulfus shout a warning through the helm’s communication system. Turning around, the wolf saw that the 3 other robbers who were hanging by ropes earlier had landed on the roof. Two of them were drawing their taser-guns while the third was standing behind them, apparently reporting something in a panic through his own comm system. The 2 with the tasers were now aiming at the wolf and were trying to steady their aim not to miss. Sylas blurted a quick “Shimata!” before he dashed right at them with a panicked Wulfus on the other side questioning the wolf’s sanity in this action.
Just as the two attackers fired their taser’s metal prongs, Sylas dropped down mid-dash causing him to slide forward on the wet surface of the ground, narrowly dodging the prongs. The wolf slid until he was in the space between the 2 robbers and then he violently rose up with his arms up and open palms, hitting both attackers in the chin with enough force to actually lift them up a few inches and then with his palms over their masked faces, he forcefully pushed them down, making the both of them crash on the floor with the back of the head for an instant K.O . Sylas then rose his gaze to see the last of the robbers trying to escape. The wolf didn’t know why, perhaps it was the rush of the battle or some hidden urge or maybe simple gut instinct, but he was determined to not allow this last one to escape, so he quickly stepped forward a few feet just in time to grab his fleeing foe by the back of his belt as he was trying to climb up the rope. With a strong jerk, Sylas pulled him right off the rope and smashed him on the ground at his feet. If he wasn’t out cold then he must have been really out of it as he simply remained motionless on the ground. The wolf gazed back at the number of knocked out foes and let out a heavy sigh, noticing that a new flashing icon had appeared on the internal screen of the helmet, the A.I. notifying the wolf that the battery levels were very low, both visually and audibly. Sylas gazed upwards at the hovering VTOL and knew exactly that he was already way over his head, perhaps fighting all these men was a mistake and he should have ran away the first chance he got, yet his instincts have taken the better of him, once again. First with the ‘test run’ of the suit and now with all this, Sylas sighed. Wulfus was going to be fuming to the brim. Before he could leave however, Wulfus notified him about something being different about this last robber. This one had something upon his person. Sylas crouched down and upon inspection he discovered a key-ring with 2 bulky keys attached.

The wolf wondered. “Nani kore..-“

Just then his ears were assaulted by Wulfu’s frantic screaming and warnings. Apparently the hovering VTOL was about to use its weapons on the wolf below. With a panic, Sylas gripped the keys in his fist and made a mad run behind one of the walls around, taking cover from the volley of bullets. The wolf was now in a state of panic as the suit’s displays were notifying. Not only did he had to escape being turned into schweitzer but he was also worried that the battery may not hold out long enough for him to escape. First things first, he needed a way out yet there wasn’t exactly any around. That’s when he recalled his make-shift grappling hook, still tied around his torso, but what good would that do him now? Regardless he had to think of something and fast. With a grunt of anger and a burst of adrenaline, the wolf dashed straight for the edge of the building on the same place where he climbed up from, all the while dodging the bullets flying at him. Once at the egde, he saw the thick metallic cables that he climbed before in reaching the top. With the pressure of a VTOL firing at him, Sylas jumped, grabbed onto the cables and slid down at an alarming speed. He felt his palms getting hotter and hotter to a point where it was past a ‘comfort zone’. “Chikushoo! Chikushoo! Chikushoo!” The wolf blurted out as he was sliding down with his palms burning all the way, at one point it became unbearable anymore and he had to let go and face a drop down, luckily enough the distance to the scaffold below was not just enough for him to not get hurt. This little stunt bought him a bit of time and he managed to get out of the VTOL’s visual, but that won’t last long as he could hear the noise of the aircraft searching for him. Sylas was clenching his teeth behind the helmet. He had to escape somehow but how? Even if he should find a way down, simply dashing for Wulfu’s place would prove to be an absolutely terrible idea with a damn VTOL on his tail. No, he needed to hide but where?

Quickly looking around, pressed by time since the VTOL could regain sight of him any moment, Sylas noticed an alleyway a few blocks away….and a long distance down. He couldn’t think of other options so he had no choice but risk it on yet another mad stunt. He only hoped that the suit’s integrity won’t be damaged too badly along with him inside it. Using his make-shift grappling hook, he tossed it in the direction of a nearby building, roughly at the same height as he was right now. The hook managed to lodge itself onto a conveniently open window and Sylas gave it a few quick yanks to make sure it would hold, more-or-less. With a deep breath he jumped off the scaffold holding onto the rope, his heart was pounding and his nerves were tense as he swung through the air in the general direction of the alley he had spied before. With another curse, he let go of the rope and swung through the air, falling several stories down right through the large gap between the buildings, in the alleyway….landing, against all odds, in a large garbage container.

Sylas was still in shock. His palms were still burning from the slide-down but it appeared he was utterly ignoring them. His heart was still racing and he was struggling for each breath. The landing was nowhere near a soft one, the impact still hurt him but it was way better than what could have happened if he landed on solid concrete. The wolf remained there, amongst the day-to-day trash of modern day Chicago, not moving and inherently listening to the sounds of the outside world. After what seemed to be the longest period of time of his life, Sylas was no longer able to hear the hissing and vrooming sound of the VTOL that was looking for it. Finally he though they must have given up, being unable to find him. Or probably assuming that he did not make the jump. Regardless, it was safe now to climb out of the container and onto the alleyway, hidden from sight. Sylas scampered lazily and clumsily out, actually slipping and landing on his side. With a groan he managed to pull himself up heavily and leaned against the wall of one of the buildings. He was out of breath, drenched in cold sweat, his palms were burning, his whole body ached and his head was pounding.

But he was alive and he was safe.

Wulfus tried to tell him something but all that Sylas heard was static. Perhaps the communications system was damaged from the fall……the thought made the wolf curse again. Regardless, he now had to return to Wulfus at all costs. The battery levels were critically low, as the flashing icon on the helmet’s internal screen indicated and as the A.I. voice was so keen on reminding the wolf. Under such conditions, there was no way Sylas could make a dash for it but instead he ran at what some would call a ‘moderate’ speed, keeping through the alleyways and the shadows to avoid being seen by anyone. Through the whole forced march, Sylas could only think about how foolish he was. How could he mess up like that? Wulfus had entrusted this suit, the fruit of his hard labor, a creation born of passion and sweat, and what did he do with it? He abused it, pushed it to the limit, nearly breaking both the suit’s integrity as well as his neck several times before. Not only that but he was being attacked by some henchmen who were working for gods-know-who and was even nearly shot. And for what? Just because he lost focus and let himself go, believing he may have found what he was looking for. The wolf stopped to catch his breath for a moment, punching the wall he was leaning on and muttering a “Bakayaro…” directed at himself. This couldn’t possibly be what he was looking for was it? This couldn’t be the place where he belonged. Otherwise why would he had messed it up so badly? He is hurt, he has no idea what he just took from those men and worst of all, he had damaged Wulfu’s creation. How was he going to make amends for such a transgression?

After a long and painful trek, the wolf managed to reach the warehouse where Wulfu’s workshop was located. The starting point for this whole messy little adventure of his. The wolf pushed the door open and dragged himself across the messy room and into Wulfu’s workshop. As he met face to face with the hybrid, Sylas only managed to mutter a “Wulfus-san. Gomenasai..-“ before he fell on one knee, suddenly feeling heavy from all sides. The internal screens of the helmet were flashing and the display was saying “WARNING : BATTERY LEVELS 0.02%”.