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Heroes Community > Bards Glade Pyre (RPG) > Thread: Cold Winter
Thread: Cold Winter This thread is 2 pages long: 1 2 · NEXT»

Legendary Hero
posted February 03, 2005 08:13 AM
Edited By: TitaniumAlloy on 3 Feb 2005

Cold Winter

Cold Winter OOC

The snow had receded enough from the door to allow entry from the side of the Iron Shield HQ. Titan burst inside and was confronted with a rush of heat. Throwing his cloak off, he went into the Intel room and slammed his fist on the desk in the centre of the room. Yeti, Titan's main technician, took off his earphones but did not turn around.

"Yeti, have we not found him yet?!"

Yeti continued to type.
"No, no, he's eluding us. He's a smart one, he's kept out of the light. Not one of our agents has spotted him around the Statue, or in the slums, both where he was spotted last."

"Has he left Vlad?"Titan asked, impatiently.

"No... none have been noted leaving via the west exit, and we picked up a phone call through the Check from him to some bank manager."


"He's wiring money to Montaigne."

Titan nodded and took a deep breath. He was finally coming closer. Picking up his mug of coffee from the table, he put his hand to one ear.
"Raven? Notify Flick. We're going to Montaigne."

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Famous Hero
Open the pod bay doors, Hal.
posted February 04, 2005 01:34 AM

"Brr. I forgot how cold this city gets sometimes," Chaz said to himself, as he walked through the downtown core.

"Where the heck is this place? I've gotta get there quick, or he's gonna walk." Chaz started to run, looking frantically for those two special words.

Sal's Saloon

"Finally! OK, let's see what's in store," Chaz said, not exactly sure what to expect.

He entered the bar. He felt the uncomfortable feeling of 2 dozen pairs of eyes locking on to him for a couple of seconds, before the eyes drifted away, uninterested.

Chaz walked up to the bar.

"Hey, barkeep! Get me a drink!" Chaz said, in a somewhat loud voice.

"Whaddya want?" replied the bartender. The bartender was a big man, at least 6 foot 3. He had a scar across his left eye.

"Get me a four-way stop! On the rocks."

"A what?"

"A four-way stop!" Chaz said, raising his voice slightly. "Don't tell me you don't know how to make a four-way stop?"

"Sorry pal. I could try, though. What's in it?"

"Forget it. If you've never made one before, than I don't want to try your first. Just get me a Whiskey."

A man sitting on a stool a couple feet away stood up, and walked over and sat down to the vacant stool to Chaz's left. He wore a long overcoat, and had two gold teeth in his mouth.

"Four-way stop? That's an interesting name for a drink." said the man.

"I'm an interesting person. This drink's been my have for years. Shame that this place doesn't serve it. My fave drink! Extremely disappointing."

"Can't say I've ever heard of it either. Only a handful of drinks this bartender can't make. Dig up a recipe, and he'll whip it up pronto. Everyone knows this guy's got talent."

"All right, maybe I'll give this guy a shot. Listening, bartender? Pour equal amounts of Rye, Rum, Bourbon and Whiskey into a glass. Hold the glass for a couple of seconds. Add some lime juice, and you're done. One hell of a drink, lemme tell ya. Nasty at first, but give it time. Everyone should try it."

The man in the overcoat then called to the bartender, and at the same time grabbed a napkin from his pocket, placing it on the bar.

"Give me a Red River for my friend here." The bartender brought it over, and the man put it on the napkin, and slid it over to Chaz. Chaz took one sip, then suddenly, coughed loudly.

"I think I'm gonna be sick!" Chaz said, grabbing the napkin and running to the bathroom. Some of the men at the bar started laughing.

"Ha ha. That guy doesn't know anything about real drinks. What a wimp. Get me another Red River."

Chaz bolted into the bathroom, and went to the far cubicle, locking it behind him. Chaz then pulled out the napkin and looked down it. In small writing, in the upper left corner, was a short message.

Old City Docks. Pier 19. By the Red Boxes. Next Full Moon.

Chaz, committing this to memory, tossed the napkin into the toilet and flushed it away. Chaz then washed his hands, exited the bathroom, shot a quick glance to the man in the overcoat, and calmly left the bar.
So I try to live a complicated world...

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Undefeatable Hero
Daddy Cool with a $90 smile
posted February 08, 2005 09:08 PM

Sam was walking down a hall with Holden, telling the guy an anecdote.
'...so then I tell him, that ain't no chicken, that there is a ferret!'
Holden burst out laughing.
Suddenly, they bumped into a short, skinny lad with dirty glasses and messy hair.
'Take this report to Clive, will you?' he said, slamming a piece of paper into Sam's chest, and ran down the coridor muttering 'WHY do I have to do EVERYTHING around here?'.
'See you around then!' Sam said and smiled.


Sam entered Clive's office and put the note on the guy's desk.
'Titan's looking for you, Flick.' Clive said, without looking up.
'Is that so?'
'Apparently. Now if you excuse me, I've got some more work to do'


Sam was looking around for Titan, humming tunelessly. Why does everyone seem to be so damn busy these days? Don't even have the time to say hi properly. Flick do this, Flick do that... Bleh.
'There you are!' said Titan.
'Apparently,' said Sam. 'By the way, Holden's a spy. Now, what was it you wanted me for?'
Yolk and God bless.
My buddy's doing a webcomic and would certainly appreciate it if you checked it out!

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Supreme Hero
Disciple of Herodotus
posted February 08, 2005 09:36 PM

Thorgrim sat back in his comfy chair in front of the tavern fireplace, sipping from a cup of hot tea. He had just finished a minor contract, unrelated to any clans, and had planned to use the next few months to recoperate from the unproportionately heavy toll this mission had placed on him.

He'd need to go into a forest, and replenish his supply of poisons, he had to make new bolts for the crossbow to replace those he'd lost during the completed task, and just generally heal and relax. He hadn't done that in quite a long time. Maybe he'd even save some of his payment on himself for a change, and instead of giving it all away to the civil population, treat himself with a week of 'relaxation' in a brothel. He hadn't done that in some years now.

But no. A week would be too long to waste.Besides, he could need those money for later, or, more importantly, the money could save the lives of some innocent civilian some day. The brothel would have to wait.

Pulling the woolen blanket off of his feet, he sat up, and picked up his backpack. He walked over to the manager, and payed him what he owed. A 'rule' from his training popped up into his head. An Einherjer always pays what he owes. Tenfold. Yes, Thorgrim thought. Payback... But not now. Later. And then I'll take a whole month in a brothel.

He left the tavern, and set for the place where he'd hid his battle axe and crossbow. He felt the comforting pressure of his long knifes under his coat, and longed for the even more secure feeling of the axe at his hip.
First the stash, then the woods. Then some more missions, then payback. And finally rest. But first thing's first.
he strode out of town, a new intensity making him walk more proudly. An Einherjer always pays his debts... A grin spread over his face. Tenfold!
"Sometimes I think everyone's just pretending to be brave, and none of us really are. Maybe pretending to be brave is how you get brave, I don't know."
- Grenn, A Storm of Swords.

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Famous Hero
Open the pod bay doors, Hal.
posted February 17, 2005 01:27 AM

Chaz looked up at the dark night sky. The full moon shone defiantly, illuminating the abandoned street leading to the sea. Stopping at the entranceway to the docks, Chaz collected his thoughts. He didn't know what to expect. He'd never seen nor heard the person he was supposed to meet. He didn't know if this person was alone or not. He didn't even know if this person was a man or a woman, old or young. Putting his uncertainty aside, Chaz crossed the threshold.

He was reminded almost immediately why these docks were called the Old City Docks. A great hub of commerce and exploration decades ago, the docks and its storage bays had gotten to the point where any sort of maintenance or restoration would be in vain. A third of the buildings had holes in the roof, with another third being covered in grafitti. All that was left of the last third was piles of rubble and the lingering stench of chemicals and toxins whose upkeep was evidently too much trouble to maintain.

Chaz looked around for red boxes and a sign indicating the piers. Half of the signs had been torn down or graffito-tagged. He hadn't been here in years, and that was just for a quick 5 minute in-and-out job, so he didn't remember where Pier 19 was, if he ever knew at all. After a couple minutes of searching, Chaz noticed a hint of crimson in the corner of his eye. He looked around for a sign, and found the remnants of the sign indicating that Piers 18-25 were ahead. This must be it, he thought.

He approached the pier with the red boxes. He looked around, but couldn't see anyone. He made his way close to  boxes and cleared his throat loudly.


Chaz did it again, louder than before. Still nothing. Chaz walked up directly up to the boxes. "Hello?"

"Stop right there!" boomed a voice. Chaz froze, not by command, but by instinct. "Back up 10 feet," commanded the voice. Chaz realized that the voice was synthesized. Evidently, this person wanted to remain as anonymous as possible. Not surprising considering all the hoops Chaz had to go through just to get this meeting.

Chaz retreated 10 or so steps and introduced himself. "I am from clan GreenSun. My name is-"

"Silence! I do not want to know your name! If I were caught, I wouldn't want them to know who I'd been in contact with."

"Fair enough. I suppose asking for your name is out of the question as well."

"I'm afraid so. Now, let's get down to business. Why did you request this meeting?"

"I think you know why. I believe there is a mole inside GreenSun, supplying our enemies with information." If there was one thing that Chaz despised, it was treason. Next to killing a woman or child, Chaz believed that the betrayal of your clanmates was the most dishonourable thing a person could do.

"Now why do you think that?"

"Three reasons."
Chaz replied. "Reason number one: Six weeks ago, a GreenSun shipment of ammuntion was hijacked along the Mountain highway. One of our men was killed, the other has a bullet in his leg and several broken ribs."

"An ammunition shipment? You bother me about an ammuntion shipment? No guns, even?"

"No, all ammunition. But it's what the ammunition was for that was important. This wasn't the typical AK-47/M16 shipment. Have you ever heard of the R55?"

"Sounds familiar. A clan in Spain was developing a new state-of-the-art rifle, and I believe they used R55 as its project-code. But that clan was wiped out two years ago..."

"Not all of them. Some survived, with our help. They're rebuilding, and as a reward, they've given us the exclusive buying rights to the newly completed R55."

"Ah, so the ammunition was R55 ammo. Did you ever consider the possibility that the hijackers were simply in the need of ammunition and didn't know about the R55?"

"Of course, that was our leading theory, until four weeks ago. This leads me to the second reason."
Chaz's throat swelled. This is where it got personal.

"Four weeks ago, the first shipment of the R55's was hijacked. Three men were killed, one of them was a good friend of mine."

"How unfortunate. Again, I must point out, that this could once again be a random coincidence. It's not as if hijackings are uncommon these days..."

"Oh no, not this time. We took precautions on this one. Instead of using an armored van, we used an unarmored pick-up truck, with no tags. Anyone looking at it would see an ordinary pickup truck, driving down the highway. Instead of one guard riding shotgun in uniform, we had two in the backseat, in plainclothes. We even had the driver drive 6 hours off course to take a different route. That wasn't enough, it still got jacked."

"Hmmmm, could it have been a simple car-jacking? Perhaps it wasn't the cargo they were after, but a vehicle?"

"Definitely not. The two men in the backseat weren't usual shipment guards. They were class-5 marksmen. Anyone trying to carjack that truck would have 2 bullets in his skull before he could blink. No, this was a co-ordinated assault. We examined the guns our marksmen were carrying. Neither had been used in weeks. Which means that whoever did this got the drop on two class-5 shooters. This was planned, detailed, and well-informed."

"If what you say is true, an inside-man seems to be the only explanation. Now, what is the third reason?"

"Marko's assassination."
Marko was GreenSun's top external affairs man, the person responsible for overseeing and co-ordinating all clan activities related to negotiating deals and truces with other clans. He was the man who organized the rescue of the clan producing the R55's. A well-respected and important member of GreenSun.

"Ah yes," responded the voice. "I heard about that. Terrible luck, but there must be a million people who would benefit from Marko's death. I can't see how his demise further indicates a mole."

"Marko's assassination came just 4 days after our R55's were stolen. Naturally, all of us were a little paranoid. There were a number of members who decided that Marko not  go out on the mission on which he was killed. Marko told us that the opportunity was too good to pass up, and that he had to take the chance. I don't know for sure, but rumor has it that Marko was on his way to a meeting with the external affairs chief of Iron Shield. If that was true, then his not getting to that meeting would be of utmost importance to a handful of clans. Not exactly short, our list of enemies, nor Iron Shield's for that matter. His means of transit were kept to as few members as possible, my estimate is that no less than 45 people knew the exact details."

"I take it then, that all the necessary precautions were taken?"

"Of course. We had 3 convoys of vehicles leave the HQ simultaneously, all going in different directions. Now, before you tell me that probability gives the perpetrator a 33% success rate, you should know that the convoy with Marko was not what it seemed. Usually, a convoy has 5 vehicles, 4 cars, light armor, surrounding an armored van. This was no different. However, Marko wasn't in the armored van. Marko was driving one of the cars. But they still KNEW!"
Chaz screamed. This whole ordeal was a huge frustration, as the task was on him to locate suspects, of which he had none.

"How was the car destroyed?" asked the voice.

"Best we can figure, an RPG. We examined the car's debris, and we determined that it was a foreign object that blew up the car. The car itself wasn't bombed."

"Now, this is unsettling for you, isn't it? Anyone firing on an armored van would need about 3 shots to destroy it and..."

"-And we would have either found the shooter and taken him out, or gotten the hell off the road after two shots. They had to have known he was in one of the cars. That's the only explanation."

"Hmmmmm, yes this is rather delicate. I can see why you requested this meeting. A mole among the top 45 at GreenSun, definitely an exciting time."

"That's not the word I would use." Chaz said angrily. One of his best friends, Brax, was one of the class-5 shooters on the second hijacking, and Chaz promised himself he'd avenge his friend's death.

"Let me take this new found information and conduct an investigation of my own. If I find anything, I'll be sure to contact you. You may go now."

"Wait, who are you? I want to know who's helping our clan."

"You know that's impossible."

"I don't care. I need to know!"
Chaz stormed in behind the large boxes, gun in hand. He turned in behind the one where the voice was coming from, and saw a microphone, a small speaker, and a motion sensor.

"As I said, you seeing me is impossible. And don't try to trace the cables. I dare say you will not get very far." All of the cables led into the building against which the boxes were resting. Chaz darted around to the front of the building, and tried opening the door. It was locked. He kicked at it for about a minute, before realizing it was no good. Whoever this person was had obviously planned to remain unseen. By the time Chaz got back with the right equipment or a technician, all this equipment would be gone. He imagined that the person wasn't even inside the building, but probably hooked up remotely. Chaz decided not to dwell on the schematics. Electronics wasn't one of his strong suits.

Chaz calmly walked back towards the equipment on the outside. It looked as if it had just been powered down.

With a sigh, Chaz left the docks, eagerly anticipating this strange person's reply.

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Legendary Hero
posted February 17, 2005 07:52 AM
Edited By: TitaniumAlloy on 27 Feb 2005

"A spy? Well he's got nerve, spying on the Iron Shield. Don't bring him in, he'll know straight away. I'll put some one on it." Titan said, gesturing for Flick to sit down in one of the leather seats at the far end of the table. Titan was seated in a large-backed chair, with papers and assorted work around him on the desk.

"Coffee?"Titan held up a thermos. Flick shook his head.

"The reason you called?"

"Ah yes. We found him."

"Who?" Flick asked.
A tall man came in, knocked on the door.
Titan pointed to a stack of papers.
"Over there, Qdos. The man bowed in thanks and left.

"We intercepted some intel, 90% credibility. He's wiring money to Montaigne, but he hasn't left the city yet, but he'll be on his way soon. Raven's been on his case for the past three days."
Titan took a sip of his coffee and stood up.

"Yes but who is it?"

"Who is it? It's Redguard, the spaniard. Should I get Holden killed?"
John says to live above hell.

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Supreme Hero
Disciple of Herodotus
posted February 17, 2005 09:25 PM

Thorgrim sat in a small lean-to he had constructed in a dell within the densest forest he could find, when he heard one of his "alarms" go off. Someone of something had tripped in one of the tripwires to the south of his camp, trigging a silent vibrating alarm Thorgrim had tied to his thigh.

Cursing softly, he sprang to his feet, crossbow in hand and all his gear in his backpack, when the alarms to the north, east and west went off as well. Not some animal, then. he though. Humans, and determined ones. He began running soundlessly through the forest to the east, knowing that his 100m radius perimeter had been breached at at least four places.

About 30 meters from his camp, he came to the place where he had spotted a badger den. Odin, let the bastard of an animal still be sleeping soundly, he prayed as he slithered his way into the den, feet first. From this place, he commanded a view over his camp.

It seemed he had been lucky this time, because he could hear someone sneaking across the ground above him, and in the forest to the north, south and west, he could see careful movements behind the canopy of young pines. He silently loaded his cross bow with a bolt, and aimed it at the general area that was his camp. If I'm lucky, they'll either be harmless people, possible employers even, and if I'm unlucky, I'm dead. I won't be able to kill four men who will be about 30 meters away from my location when the first quarrel strikes. At least not since I have to get out of this den and close in on them in the time it would take them to locate the direction of the quarrel, and whip up their sub machine guns, or whatever it is they're carrying...

The man on top of the badger den had stopped. If he has heard me... But no.

"Hey, lads, come here!" the man shouted. "I don't think he's here at the moment. We should leave a message and come back later. Don't wanna be found unannounced in an assassin's camp by the assassin himself." The man moved toward his comrades, and now that Thorgrim could see them all, he starngely found that they had no visible weapons. They were dressed like civilians, but Thorgrim knew from personal experience that appearances could be deceptive. He nontheless decided to show himself.

"No reason for you good people to have come here unnecessarily," he said as he slithered out of the den. Still pointing his crossbow at the man closest to him, he continued: "Now, I am very intrigued by a couple of things. A), how did you find me, and B), what do you want?"

"Well, good sir," the man Thorgrim thought of as the leader said, "We had heard in our town, that an Einherjer had stayed there for some time, and so we followed the rumours, sir. Rumours about black clad men lurking in the darkness, and poor people finding moderatly large sums of money, I mean..." Thorgrim could have killed himself. If these amateurish peasants could have tracked me, my enemies would have had no problem following me! I have to be more careful in the future.

"That would be a sufficient answer to my first question. Now, to the second." He let his eyes sweep over the men. The three others averted their eyes, but the leader held Thorgrim's gaze.

"We have a business proposal for you," he said.
"Sometimes I think everyone's just pretending to be brave, and none of us really are. Maybe pretending to be brave is how you get brave, I don't know."
- Grenn, A Storm of Swords.

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Legendary Hero
posted February 18, 2005 08:05 PM
Edited By: MightyMage on 19 Feb 2005

It had been nearly two weeks since Darius'(or TEK as they called him) group arrived in Brittland.  Several buildings had been searched looking for an oppertune place to settle.  
TEK stopped his truck at a sign which read 'Deptford'.

We'll search this area.  It appears to be an old port city.  Move it!

Within fifteen min. the group approached an abbandoned shipyard.  Not much to look at but beggers can't be choosers.  Once again TEK stopped his truck, put it in park and stepped out.  As soon as his feet hit the white ground below he could feel the cold air being carried by the water.

Biz!  Let's move!  I want your group to make a through search of dis junk heap.  Report back in...

TEK looked at his watch, old and worn but still ticking.  He looked back up at the men accompanying him, shivering in the cold, and than back at his brother sitting in the back seat of his truck

Tek?  You were saying?

Huh?  Oh, just report back.  Make it quick before we all freeze out here.

TEK climbed back into the truck, looked back at Tim and turned up the heat.

Its cold out there so enjoy the heat while we got it.

About twenty min. passed and Biz returned from inside the building.  He tapped twice on TEK's window bringing him out of his thought.

Sir, this place hasn't seen life since before the war.  It seems to be in well enough shape though.  I can probably hook up some heat and juice the place up, maybe two days, give or take a few.

By the looks of that water wheel there I'd say the place ran off hydro.  If you can rig that up we might get going faster.

Right, I'll take a look at it.  Like I said, the place is clear so you can take a look around inside.  

TEK looked up at the old building and continued forward.  The old door was a heavy steel slab hanging off of rusty hinges.  How the place held together this long was a mystery.  Opening the creaky entrance, TEK looked around and then continued inside.  
Darius was not one to believe in ghosts or anything of the sort but one look at this place started to make him wonder.

Damn, would you look at that.

Against the back wall was a mass of metal and god only knows what else.  Darius had seen one of these before.  The doctors and scientists who gave him his arms, made him into TEK, had one.  A computer!  The screen and dials were a bit dusty and it looked as if a few buttons had popped off but to Darius, it was beautiful.  
Darius ran to the window and called out to Biz.

Hey, you gotta see this thing.  It's huge.  It's...it's a computer.

That thing?  Yeah we saw that when we went in earlier.

Well you gotta get it going.

No, I gotta get the power going.  Besides, what makes you think that thing actually works?  Look, our priorities are heat and electricity right now.  I'll look at your toy later.

Alright man but this could be huge.

Just thinking of the posibilities had Darius excited.  He decided to go get Tim and show him.  At least one other person could be excited with him.

Though I must still bow
in awe for the awesomeness that is
MightyMage.  For he is all I could ever
want to be!
- OhforfSake

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Supreme Hero
posted February 22, 2005 09:50 AM

Derrin walked amidst the ruins that was once the capital city of France. The destructive force that had decimated this world is incredible. A city that was once over five hundred years old, destroyed in five seconds. The once beautiful city, which he had traveled to in his youth, was now nothing but rubble. There were no bodies in the streets, as one may be expected. They were decimated in the blast. Suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and he slowly turns around.  

Two thugs stand there, pointing guns at him.

"Hey old man, give us all yo' snow"

Derrin stands there, grinning.

"HEY!! You deaf or somethin'? I said give me all you snow man! If you dont imma bust a cap in you old senior ass!"

The other one, whom seems to be younger speaks up.

"Dirk, its only an old man, dude. Come on, lets go."

"Nah, this old man got an attitude probablem. Imma deal with his punk as- AHHH!!!!!!"

Before he could finish his sentence, Derrins dog, a mixed breed between a Labrador and a pit bull, leaps on the young punk and begins biting at the back of his neck. The other one fumbles for is gun, but it is knocked out of his hand by the old mans staff. He swings at the old man, but Derrin dodges the punch and sweeps the younger ones feet out from under him. He hits the ground hard on his head and passes out. He looks over and sees the dog viciously biting at the other one.

"Down Randy." The dog snarls and leaves the bloodied punk bleeding in the street. The two leave as if nothing had happened.
I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.

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Famous Hero
Open the pod bay doors, Hal.
posted March 04, 2005 01:38 AM

Chaz sat at his desk, staring down at the monthly report from the Mowassi Badlands outpost.

"Activity along the border was much more active this month than in past months..."

The words trailed off. Chaz couldn't stop thinking about his experience 3 nights prior at the Docks. He kept going over it in his mind, trying to pick up on anything he may have missed.

Chaz had gone back to the Docks with a team to take a look inside the building where all the hardware led. Sure enough, inside there were several screens, a microphone, as well as chair. Chaz pounded the desk in disgust. This mystery person was probably less than 10 feet from him last night, and Chaz couldn't do anything about it.

What really infuriated Chaz was that he had no idea who this contact was. An informant, a double agent, an enemy? Chaz had no idea, and it infuriated him. Was this mystery informant a mole from the clan to which the GreenSun mole was working for? Could he be from a rival clan of the men behind Marko's assassination? Chaz had no idea. He didn't even know which clans were involved.

Could it be Open Sky? Rockfist? Iron Shield?

"No." Chaz said to himself. He had dealt with Iron  Shields before, anf found them to be honourable people, who wouldn't willingly start a war with a clan that had done nothing to them.


But then again, it was Iron Shield who set up the meeting that led up to Marko's death... Chaz didn't know what to think.


What really troubled Chaz was the mole that he believed to have infiltrated GreenSun. Chaz had been hesitant to share the information of this Docks encounter with his superiors, because afterall, if there was a mole, he couldn't take the chance of accidentally tipping off the mole that Chaz was on his trail.


Chaz nearly jumped out of his seat. Falco stood at Chaz's desk, seemingly irritated.

Oh boy. Chaz thought to himself. If there was ever someone you didn't want to catch you daydreaming, it was Falco, Chaz's immediate superior.

"Sir! I'm sorry sir. How can I help you"

"Have you finished reviewing the monthly reports yet?"

"Almost sir. I only have a couple more to go over." That was a lie. He had finished going through the first report, and still had 6 more to do.

"Well get back on it. We need those done ASAP. When you finish, go see Dango. He has to brief you on a recon mission you'll be undertaking with Jin."

"But sir, I was going to get back to investigating Marko's case..."

"No, we're pulling you off that. In two weeks, what have you found out? Nothing."

"No, I'm making progress..."

"Maybe so, but we need you for this recon job. We think something big is going down out by Daggerhorn Peak, and we'll need our best people there. Now, hurry up with those reports. I have to go see Artego soon. Any questions? No? Good."

Chaz was stupified. He had finally made a huge breakthrough in the case, and he has to stop. Chaz considered telling Falco about what happened at the Docks. Maybe if Falco knew he had an actual lead, he'd assign someone else to this recon job. But maybe Falco was the mole....

Chaz got back to the reports. He shuffled through the small pile of the remaining reports. He still had a way to go.

Just as Chaz was getting back to the Mowassi report, something caught his eye. Underneath the warehouse inventory fluctuations, Chaz saw a yellow piece of paper. Odd. Yellow sheets are usually used for Intelligence briefings. Could this be about the Daggerhorn Peak?

Chaz grabbed it.

Bay and Industrial. South west corner. Midnight.

Chaz looked around. Where did this come from? Falco didn't have anything with him when he came over. Or did he? Chaz couldn't remember, he wasn't really paying attention. Chaz didn't remember anyone else coming by his desk either. Where did this come from??? He may not have known who put this note on his desk, but Chaz had no doubt who wrote it. It would seem that his mystery informer had found some information.

Chaz walked over to Dango. "Listen Dango, I know I'm supposed to see you about Daggerhorn, but I'm buried in paperwork. Can it wait till tomorrow?"

"Sure thing Chaz. See you then."

Chaz went back to his desk, and started to finish his paperwork. Chaz then started thinking about his plan for tonight. Chaz would be ready this time.
So I try to live a complicated world...

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Legendary Hero
posted March 05, 2005 05:41 AM

The long black car pulled up at a small bar in Mont.
It had a small silver shield on the front as the centre piece, and for that reason it was Titan's favourite of his cars.

He got out of the leather seats and stepped out onto the derelict street.
The walls of the abandoned houses were graffitied and in an abysmal state, the road was empty.

Aleksandr, Titan's second in command got out and the cheffeur drove the car out of sight.
They kept silent, the street may seem empty but one can never be sure.
They both had their guns loaded.

Titan walked down the street a few houses, and stopped at the corner of a side alley.
The path was fenced off around the corner.
He stood there with his back up against the wall, surveying the area.
The air was cold, their hands were frosted.

Peering around the corner, there was an iron door next to the fence, going into the trashed building. Nothing else. He looked up into the window of the terrace across the street. Empty.

He lifted a hand at Alek, and waved two fingers forward.
Turning the corner he knocked on the door three times.
Alek lit up a smoke.

"Who's there?" A voice came from behind the door.

"No one."Titan said.
A small hatch in the door opened and two eyes looked out.
He then closed the hatch and unlocked the door.

"Master, come in. We've got news."
John says to live above hell.

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Supreme Hero
Disciple of Herodotus
posted June 09, 2005 12:13 AM

One thing dominated Thorgrim's mind as he sped through the forest - and that was that this was clearly the Winter of Fimbul, the Wolf-Age.

Although it seemed to him as if the thermonuclear war had had to be Ragnarok, it was obviously not. For was it not prophecised by the Volve, as recounted by the Hovamal, that after Ragnarok, peace would rule, and a new era of freedom and goodness would begin? So no, he thought. The thermonulear war could not have been what it seemed to be.

And this age - this blasted, cursed, Godforsaken age - seemed so like the Winter of Fimbul and the Wolf-Age, that were to come before Ragnarok. The days could be so cold that people froze to death in front of their fires. Packs of starved and mad wolves were hunting in the dark forests. And men killed men, brother killed brother, and son killed father, just like the prophecies fortold. Thorgrim was convinced that the Cockerel of Utgard, the Cockerel of Helheim and finally the Cockerel of Aesgard, would soon crow. The Trolls and the Jontner, the undead hordes of Hel, and the true Einherjer of the Aesir - the resurrected warriors of Odin Thorgrim and his clan were named after - would all awaken. The Fiery hordes of Surt would come riding out of Muspellheim. The stars would stop burning, and fall to the ground. The mountains would collapse. Fenris, the great Wolf, would break free. The Worm of Midgard would move up onto land. And Loki, The Betrayer, brother of the Father of All, father of Fenris, father of Jormundgand (as the Midgard Worm's real name was), would tear free of the chains with which the Aesir had bound him.

And all the powers of Dark will gather on the Field of Vigrid. Heimdall will blow the Gjallar Horn and wake the Aesir and their Einherjer to battle. The branches of Yggdrasil, the Tree of the World, will quake and shiver. Odin will be struck dumb by the forces that have gathered to destroy his creation. But his wife, Frigg the Wise, will bring him his golden helmet. She will put Gugne, his spear, into his hands, and she will call for his steed, Sleipnir. The God of War, The God of Battle, the God of All, will awake then. Freya will bring the Einherjer under her command. Thor will strap on his belt of strength, put on his iron gloves, and bring his chariot and his hammer, Mjolnir, to join the Host of Aesgard.
And they will ride to battle, lead by Odin, his ravens, Hugin and Munin, above him, and his wolves, Gere and Freke, at his side.

Fenris will devour Odin. Thor and Jormundgand will kill each other. As will Tyr and Garm, the Hound of Hell. Surt will kill Frey. Heimdall will sacrifice his life to destroy Loki, the betrayer. Surt and his warriors of fire will burn the world to the ground. Yggdrasil is burning Everything will die.



Vidar the Silent, son of Odin and slayer of Fenris, will survive. So will Vle, another son of Odin. Hne, Odin's old comrade of arms. Magne and Mode, the sons of Thor. They will all survive. And from the cold and wet halls of Helheim, Balder and Hd will emerge. From these gods, a new line of the Aesir will descend.

They will raise a new Midgard from the seas. It will be lush as a dream. Food will be abundant. The fields will harvest themselves. The Sun, which had been eaten by one of the Great Wolves, has born a Daughter. No one needs to be hungry, no one needs to be cold. All evil is washed away by the sea. Midgard is washed clean. A new world can begin!

Liv and Livtrase will emerge from Hoddmimes forest. They will be the predecessors of a whole new race of human beings.

Here, the prophecies of the Volve ends.

This is what goes through the mind of Thorgrim, as he runs as fast as he can through the dark forest. All he has to do until the Cockerels crow, is to obey the Hovamal - the Speech of the High, the laws and rules given to Men by the Father of All, by Odin himself.

And now, he has to obey. As everyone of the Einherjer must do. One hundred more fighters will come down south next "winter", when the straights of Skagerrak are frozen. They will come, and they will protect the weak, just like they have sworn to do. And if the die in battle, so be it. If they do, that just means that they will be enlisted in the raks of the true Einherjer - of Odin's Host.

As Thorgrim runs through the forest, tears stream down his face.
"Sometimes I think everyone's just pretending to be brave, and none of us really are. Maybe pretending to be brave is how you get brave, I don't know."
- Grenn, A Storm of Swords.

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Supreme Hero
Shaded Scribe
posted June 11, 2005 06:18 AM
Edited By: Shadowcaster on 11 Jun 2005

"I don't want a power struggle," said Sisko as he turned to the empty room he was addressing. "Should I really be doing this?"

"You have no one else," he sputtered back to himself in response, sinking to the ground in desperation. "This is your only chance to belong; no one else wants you."

Sisko began to crawl forward in his cramped quarters, stopping once he had reached the center of the room. A great wave of concern washed over his face as he realized the truth: this was his last chance to avoid the ravages of solitude. Yet, as one who had never been loved nor had ever loved, he knew not what he was missing, and solitude was all that he knew. It was, perhaps, his desire to rid himself of that panged lonliness which drove him to stay with the clan that played him as the willing slave.

Sisko the genius had never quite blossomed into the greatness he could have attained, for he had been neglected in his youth, a great cost to the scope of his prime. The child did not chose a life of virtuous innovation, but instead decided that he would become a mad scientist of sorts, returning his overblown sorrows to the world which had so scorned him. He filled his head with glorious delusions of the glory he was sure would follow the notoriety he would someday earn, but they were never fulfilled. Though he had revolutionized science with his kinetic implants, Sisko remained unknown, the world distracted by its petty fight for its own survival. He vowed to one day teach the selfish, uncaring brutes his worth, and designed a machine to imbed his prototype into his first test subject--himself.

"Lead by example," he said as he went under.

"And now," said the other half, "you do not lead at all. You will be forgotten forever if you do not take control of this clan right now and show that your invention is worth fearing."

"But these implants, they aren't healthy. I-I...haven't worked out all the bugs yet. Not even I am safe from it."

"And yet you saw fit to experiment on yourself anyway. How much longer can your mind last before it dissolves, my boy? You're already well on your way to insanity, why wait any longer? Take what is rightfully yours!"

"I'm still half here."

"No! You are half gone. There is no turning back for us, brother. sacrificing others for our ideals holds no shame for those who do not seek it. Those who would have cared for you, they didn't seem to mind exploiting you, did they?"

Sisko remained motionless.

"Deep down," the other half continued, "you know mine is the voice of reason."

Sisko was becoming aggravated, "YOU didn't even exist until I tested this cursed device on myself, and the only reward you have given me for my lifelong efforts is a life of misery and regret. You were born at my expense. I wish, with all my heart, that I could erase you, to undo what I have done. But I cannot, for I would be sacrificed as well."

"And we wouldn't want that, now would we?" the other half replied with a grin.

"No...we don't want that."

"So, you know then. You will never be rid of me."

Sisko sat motionless, leaning against the desk he had been provided to recreate and improve his masterpiece. He looked up at the tools with which he first invented and scoffed in disgust; he'd gone too far this time. Sisko had to decide whether or not to go further in order to have a chance at fame, a chance to be either adored or feared. The young scientist sat for what seemed to be an eternity, alone for the moment with himself, and weighed his consequences. After a long while, he turned toward his desk and began to alter the prototype's design.

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Legendary Hero
posted June 13, 2005 01:11 PM

"Bad news, sir. The Purists are re-emerging."
Thom said. He slammed a file down on the table, as Titan took off his cloak. He sat down on the bar stool on the table in the corner. A dim candle poured out just enough light to see.

"The Purists?"Alek asked.

"The Purists is a powerful cult of extremists, led by Redguard. They believe in perfecting the human form, keeping it pure and chaste. They don't have the numbers, as they're picky in their selecting. The reason no one likes them is that they base their ideals on ethnic cleansing. Only the fittest, strongest, smartest and most physically attractive are allowed to join, and they are only allowed to have spoused among each other. Going by the theory of evolution, if their plan works, they would have created a superhuman race." Thom explained. He was a historian, an expert on all clans and their backgrounds.

"Aryan."said Titan.

"Exactly. Except this is different. They kill off any of their ranks who do not match the standards without second thought, thinking that the superhuman will achieve immortality. Their people are faster, more accurate and more tactical than you can imagine. With their growing experiment, their power and size grows with it. At first no one could imagine that something so immoral could work out, that the lines would have to break at some point."

Titan emptied his bullets from his gun onto the table. Behind them was a bar, and the noise of drunken Russians grew. Pulling his handgun from his pocket, Titan fired it into the ceiling twice. The noise was so startling that an immediate silence collapsed throughout the bar.

"Thankyou. I was growing impatient. Thom, continue." The voices came back as a dull murmur.

"Intelligence in Novatra brought up the Purists' new weapons deal with another guild. At first, one would assume they would want nothing with us 'infidels'. One would assume wrong.
A further study of their lore reveals that to achieve immortality, they must control vast armies. Thier combat training has doubled.
Bad news.
They're planning an attack. Boss, these guys aren't going to be a push over."

Titan nodded. He was ready for this. He put his hand to his Check in his ear.
"Raven, I want all new recruits sent to Vlad for intensive training. The order is go for the weapons shipment, so get a gun in every soldiers hand.
Oh and pass a message onto Yeti in the IT department. I'm heading back there now, and I want all the latest tech ready when I get there. It's go time, baby!"

John says to live above hell.

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Supreme Hero
posted June 22, 2005 01:55 PM

Darrin walks through the snow, looking, hoping for some sort of organized civilization. He knew his time would soon be up, and he wanted an apprentice, to teach them the old ways. The old english language, he had books, tons and tons of books, on every subject avaiable. He needed a trusted person or persons to teach to read, so knowledge and history would never die. Deep down he knew humanity would recover from this dark age of peril, as we always have, but he also knew it would not be during his lifetime...
I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.

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Supreme Hero
Shaded Scribe
posted October 17, 2005 05:37 AM
Edited By: Shadowcaster on 16 Oct 2005

"It is completed!" Sisko half-shouted his triumph as his task to perfect his prototype, a journey that had last nearly 3 days, had finally met his end. They boy had gone for three days with no food and no water, and his concentration had paid off in spectacular fashion.

He grabbed the newly constructed remote into which he had loaded the instructions and released the signal into his newly redesigned prototype. Immediately, his intelligence was hyperstretched and his brain began firing at impossible rates. Memories flooded back to him, as did knowledge, and all accumulated information that the boy had gleaned over the years resurfaced. It was as if he had infinite capacity to hold and retain knowledge, memories, and other such information. His senses were supercharged, his reaction sped; the boy had undergone a complete transformation. Unfortunately, the AI of the system began to slowly conquer the boy's mind. The prodigy would soon lose himself to his ambitions.

Sisko lifted his hand toward the door of the room and blasted it off its hinges with newly strengthened kinetic powers. He smirked to himself and walked out into the hall. Sisko slowly made his way to the dining hall where Rockfist was eating, officers and peoons alike. It was his perfect chance to show off his new invention, and to offer it to his "beloved" clan. After all, their changes would only reflect a small portion of his, and, even at full strength, many of the clan members would be no match for this small boy of 16.

"Brothers!" Sisko shouted as he walked into the mess hall, but his voice was lost in the flurry of noise. The boy narrowed his eyes and glared at a nearby empty, wooden table and flung it up into the ceiling at terminal speeds. The room grew deathly silent as the splinters of the shattered piece of furniture rained down upon those below. "I have acquired new power; now come and claim it for yourselves. This will create within our ranks the best soldiers man can make, and you will each be master tacticians when I have finished with you." He pulled out his remote and held it up to the crowd.

"The process will not take long, I assure you. Then you may go back to eating," continued Sisko. Yet, he made it undeniably clear that this upgrade would not come without a price, "But, if I do this for you, Clan Rockfist must do something for me."

"Name it," said the leader of the clan, Destrov. He was eager to gain this upgrade, and, if it did what the boy said, they would no longer need to depend upon him.

Sisko smirked at the simpleton and made his request: "There is a clan emerging that is a great threat to us all: The Purists. I want you to destroy them completely. Then you are out of my debt."

"Agreed," came the reply, "what must we do?"

"Hold out your right hand, palm up, and stand very still."

The previous upgrades had required singular surgeries, a process that took weeks, but the skeptical clan members slowly began to raise their hands toward the boy with the remote. Once they had all obeyed, Sisko pushed a button and a shockwave nearly split the room in two. The remote dissolved in Sisko's hands and he turned to face the clan members again. All was still for what seemed an eternity.

"Did it work?" Destrov asked at last. "Yes, I can feel it! Marvelous, Sisko." The general felt power surging through his veins and he picked up a table of his own and shattered it, just as Sisko had done moments earlier. The entire clan cheered in unison. Yet, after the cheers subsided, Destrov turned and order his men to kill the boy in the corner who now was remote-less. They gladly obliged.

"Sorry, Sisko, but I'm sure you saw this coming. We wish to stand on our own now," the general said smugly. The boy did not move, did not even blink as the mighty clan advanced upon him. He seemed to be concentrating. All of a sudden, the entire clan stopped and turned back on the general.

"I did see it coming, general; I even expected this. My remote did the impossible by remotely installing new components in your head, no surgery required. Unfortunately, I've bundled a mind-control device with your external upgrade system." Destrov backed away.

Sisko continued his speech, "I must hand it to you, though, your will is very strong. I would not have anticipated your lasting this long, but you seem to be full of surprises. But you will submit eventually.

Destrov's mind clouded.

"And then you will belong to me."

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Legendary Hero
posted October 22, 2005 06:15 AM

Hmm let me see. I don't really have much new for you I'm afraid. Mainly weaponry. But I do have the new bio upgrade for your Central Nervous System. Yeti said, muttering just the slightest. Titan had been rushed there.

Yeti didn't know why his blood wasn't absolutely fuming with excitement.

Titan had activated Code A-1. The first page. The Alpha. The first time that it'd happen why since he had worked there. A strike on another clan had been initiated. But finding the day had arrived, seemed to Yeti like reaching an important birthday but realizing you are exactly the same. He had become vitally important to the success of the attack on the technological front.

Titan picked up the small, metal, cylindrical upgrade and held it up to the light. It had Yeti's signature engraved on the side, along with the upgrade code: Y101-ZZ.
"What does it do?" Titan asked, scrutinizing the small needles and cords shooting out from the end like a syringe, promising pleasure and pain.

"Well, try it out." Yeti replied.

Titan took the upgrade, lifted up the back of his shirt and inserted it into a small metal plug in his back, and the upgrade was absorbed into the darkness of his spine.
He looked at himself expectantly.
He looked around the room. He looked back down at his hand, to see a switchblade sticking out of it. Blinking disbelievingly, he took hold of the handle and ripped it back out of his hand. Nothing. Blood dripped from the tip of the blade, and smashed onto the surface of the table.  Yeti smiled at him, and put his blade back in his pocket.

"Don't tell me... you dumbed my touch receptors. What if I need them?" Titan asked.
"Close your eyes and read this for me." Yeti handed Titan a page of braille.

"Alpha Bravo Charlie Delta Echo Foxtrot..." He read it perfectly. Yeti smiled again.

"Your touch receptors are fine. This upgrade doesn't affect your skin, but I increased your tolerance for pain. You'll need it for trek through that... blizzard out there."

"Excellent. Anything else?"

"Only the standard... reflex, strength, stamina..." Yeti indicated a number of upgrades in a box under the desk. "But there is this. The Purists are not named, they are numbered. Their leader uses them more like machines... And if they want to go anywhere or recieve anything they have their number re routed through a database to check their identity. If their number is not found, or if they do not have one, they are taken into custody to be tested again, or killed if it is a restricted area. If we are to win this war, we need to break down their organization, their unison. I think our team of hackers have come up with the answer. This."
Yeti took a pen to a piece of paper and wrote down a simple, 24 digit, alpha-numeric code.

"If we get an infiltrator into the barracks, and they enter this as their number, it will release a malicious virus into their databanks, eating randomly at the numbers of units so that many of the soldiers numbered will be denied. If all goes to plan, this will throw them into complete chaos, leaving them vulnerable to any attack on their base."
John says to live above hell.

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Supreme Hero
posted October 22, 2005 10:44 PM

Walking through the ruins of Paris, Darrin began thinking of the former times, before the winter. He remembered Paris as a bustling city, the French were such pacifists, but they were among the unfortunate billions to be caught up, Paris was one of the first casulitys, the Soviet Union intended to hit Britain, but was off by several hundred miles.

He wondered if there was any part of the earth where the Winter hadn't extended too. Perhaps somewhere in the pacific islands, Australia perhaps? Or the former American state of Hawaii...they were a decent way from the main areas. What about the Amazon? Surely some part of it had survived...

But the greatest casualty of this war was all the knowledge that had been lost. And he felt he had a duty to enlighten others of the former histories, He had learned that knowledge was not a good thing to lose, such as back in ancient times when the Great Library of Alexandria was burned to the ground by religious fanatics, how much history was lost there? He couldn't let the same thing happen again..

He looked down to his dog and smiled

One day Randy, things will be back to normal...One day

I almost had a psychic girlfriend but she left me before we met.

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Legendary Hero
posted January 22, 2006 06:40 AM

Titan closed his door softly, made sure no one was following.

He walked past his table, past his chair, to the back wall where great red curtains were drawn across. For show, they all thought. He drew them back.

There was a simple door, painted the same colour as the wall, with a brass knob handle. No lock.

Titan turned the knob once right, and once left, then pushed in. the door swung open to reveal a dark room filled with glowing tanks.

There must have been six glass tanks, up against the walls, with cords pumping all sorts of bubbling fluids into them. The cords led into the tanks, pumping in the life support to the growing humans inside. There was a label on each tank, naming the men.

Each were different, but not unique. They had only developed almost to the point of a grown adult..
Suddenly, there was a click of a door opening at the back of the room. He spun around.

Yeti walked in holding a clipboard and called out,
"Titan, we have the..." He broke off, when he saw Titan standing in the secret room.

"My god..." Yeti said, and Titan pulled his gun and fired.

Yeti dropped to the ground with a bullet through his head. "Dammit." Titan cursed, and slammed the front door to his room shut, and locked it.

He walked back into the tank room, to a specific tank at the back of the room. Pulling out a small piece of paper, he read it to himself.

"73d387-5bd7em-000900-purist" He dropped the code to the floor, raised his gun, and fired. He falling, limp next to the tank labelled 'Titan' with a bullet in his head.
John says to live above hell.

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Supreme Hero
Shaded Scribe
posted May 28, 2006 12:09 AM

It was unclear whether the boy, Sisko, acted of his own will that day, but he took the clan without remorse and began to plot the downfall of the Purists. If only he had known how deep the conspiracies within the group he now pursued would run...

Destrov stood motionless in front of his new master, awaiting Sisko's command despite his volition to resist. He, along with the rest of his bretheren, had fallen to ambition, much like the shattered nations of the world had those many years ago. Yet Sisko intended to resist destruction this time, he intended to conquer the world. He had chosen Rockfist for a reason: they were the most physically capable of all the remaining clans, and Destrov was perhaps the strongest man alive. All they needed was a guiding hand, to be led by an even more irresistable force than their own. Destrov had not been a man to be easily provoked, and he was content to use only the skills his clan needed to survive against onslaughts from other survivors. No one knew the destructive capabilities of Clan Rockfist, but they would soon.

Across the way from the Rockfist commander stood Sisko, with a steely and determined glare in his eyes that spelled revenge at any cost. The Purists were his first target because of their interest in Sisko's remarkable intelligence. Somehow they had heard of his success in developing a mind-manipulation device and pursued him in hopes of studying which genes allowed his genius to bloom so brilliantly at such a young age. After all, they believed nature to be the provider of human nature and talent, and Sisko's talent would help them greatly in their cause were they able to find out what made him tick. This brought the promise of death, however, and Sisko was forced to take refuge with the clan he now controlled. He now hoped to eliminate their threat once and for all.

But not all stories have a happy ending, and Sisko would not come back from this venture alive.

"Assemble the clan outside." At Sisko's word, Destrov nodded and turned to follow his orders. "Oh, and find me a horse or something. I don't want to walk all that way."

Destrov simply nodded again and left the hall with his comrades.

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