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Second Earth: Age of Strife.

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Dr. Nibbles

Supernova
Joined
Oct 20, 2011
Location
Your Pants
Chapter I
City of Heroes​

Of all the mighty city-states and protectorate nations that make up Falador, Cynbel was by far the most mighty. Acres and acres of its spawling hills are covered in the boundless stone buildings, cocooned by high walls built to withstand the full brunt of any invasion force. It has been many centuries since a military force was strong enough or brazen enough to attempt to siege this mighty City, and hasn't been since the rule of the Dark King himself that the walls were breached.

Since that fateful day a full millennium ago the people of Cynbel have trained themselves constantly, ever vigilant in case of another attack. Though one from the outside may see this course of action as paranoid, to the Cynbelites it was the only way to live. Each family of the massive city has several members in different branches of the city militia, a nigh endless army of conscripts dedicated and bold, ready to lay down their lives for their city and their nation.

Though the sprawling metropolis is far from just a war-faring collection of minutemen. The city is prosperous and ever growing entire districts dedicate themselves wholly to trade and commerce, and though not as pious and devout as those of other city states of Falador, there is a lush and vibrant Temple District; each containing a home to a shrine of each of the Just Gods. On the crest of the tallest hill in Cynbel, sits a goliath castle, massive banners baring the 4-pointed star crest of Cynbel, traced with the grey and deep blue known to identify the Cynbel military. Within, the Clan Monte makes its home. King Gueire Monte, his Queen and 10 Daughters and Sons ruled over the city with devotion and righteous fire in his belly. The youngest of his sons, was the mischievous, yet prodigal Iron Prince, Cyephus.

Cyephus overlooked the city his father ruled, bored beyond his normal means. He stood clad in his signature iron plate, his blade strapped tight to his side as he stood on the elaborate balcony high up in the battlements. His desire to leave the castle was greater today than it ever was. Gueire was always protective of Cyephus as he was the youngest of his sons, and though he would never achieve the throne Gueire felt his young Iron Prince would make a lasting impact on the World. Cyephus did not see eye to eye with his father, yearning to escape from this drab metropolis and find the wonders the world held for him.

"Piere," Cyephus said to his servant and life-long friend. "I wish to enter the market today. Will you accompany me?"

Piere had truly no choice in the matter, he was bound to his Prince's word. Though despite the King's orders to keep Cyephus in the castle today, he knew that he could not stop the Prince and his desire to adventure through out the town. His only way to assure his Prince stay safe was to accompany him.

"Of course, Prince Monte." He said reluctantly "How could I not?"
 
Five days prior......

Darian walked through some woods just outside along the border of the Wasteland, his Crossbolt Gun strapped across his back, a simple kerchief covering his mouth and his goggles hiding the deep blue hues. Hanging from the waist belt was a sizable object wrapped in cloth, the bottom of which was stained a dark foreboding red. His travel continued until he reached a seemingly impassable wall of black granite. He looked around and then checked behind him once again to make sure he wasn't followed; he'd had to do this several times already, and while he wasn't the best at stealth, his having to hunt to provide for his former family had taught him much on how to stalk and kill prey.

"Seems clear" the lad thought to himself; he then silently muttered "Sron dai vahn, Arcereus" as had become custom for him. A small wavering tune was heard, a customary sign that the strange phrase had been received. But for a small while, nothing happened; Darian looked around again and was about to speak the phrase again before suddenly a grey-haired Dark Elf appeared next to him. The humanoid was clothed in almost exactly the same clothing as Darian, except he wore no goggles and his right sleeve had been cut away to allow for a blade weapon to be attached. In his right hand he held a dead goblin’s head. “Still so sloppy, Darian…You’re lucky I do a secondary sweep; why Talon Company let a dirt-tiller like you into its ranks I’ll never understand” the Elf commented as it peered into the eyes of the dead halfling; the human grimaced a bit, but held his tongue from any foul words and replied, “Sorry…Won’t happen again, Arcereus”. At this, the Elf cracked a grin and said, “You’re getting wiser though, I’ll give you that. And truthfully, you’re a helluva lot better than most mercs in our chapter. Ol’ John almost got himself caught about three times last week”. This always confused Darian; why would Arcereus bother insulting him and then compliment him shortly afterward? “Now come on; don’t want to keep Boss waiting, do ya?” Arcereus continued on casually; the Elf then traced an eagle’s foot into the air, strange light appearing where his finger had been before the finished insignia sank into the rock.

A small rumbling was heard before a tunnel opened up in the black stone; Arcereus stepped to the side, giving a mock gentleman’s bow and saying, “Ladies first”. Darian just snorted derisively and walked in, the tunnel entrance closing up as the Elf followed behind him. The tunnel itself was about ten feet high and wide enough for two to walk side by side relatively comfortably; though someone like a Minotaur or Half-Orc would probably feel a bit confined. As their little traversal through the stony passage continued on, torches flared up of their own free will to light the way. Soon, voices could be heard; truth be told, it was one voice, and it was easily distinguishable: Boss was chewing out someone again. It was often considered a quiet day if Boss didn’t yell at someone at least ten times; Arcereus caught up to Darian and whispered, “Bet you five gold pieces it’s John again” to which Darian replied “You’re on”. As they went through a wooden door, they found themselves in a rather spacious room and strangely enough, it wasn’t John that was getting chewed out, but a newer recruit that had just joined up. The boy couldn’t have been older than sixteen, but right now he looked like he was going to wet himself; and when dealing with someone like Boss, only a few weren’t afraid of him and for good reason. The man’s strange bright gold hues bored into the young recruit’s, a glare that many rumored would freeze even the Dark King in his place; and that was all he was doing right now: Glaring. “Looks like you lose” Darian whispered smugly; the Elf grumbled and dropped five gold into Darian’s outstretched hand. “Ah, cheer up; you always like seeing the recruits piss themselves” the human merc muttered; Arcereus smirked slyly and said, “Heh, guess you’re right”.

The recruit tried to open his mouth to speak, but Boss – an intimidating man of nearly six feet height and packed with muscle that was outlined in the reinforced Talon Commander armor, his shaved hair and goatee red as blood – shut up him by shouting, “You think you have a right to speak?! Be lucky I don’t kill you right here and now! And I assure you, the next time some pansy little dwarves make you run off, I’m putting a bullet in your head! Now scram!” The kid was more than happy to oblige, and took off like a Frost Elf from an inferno; this earned a hearty collective chuckle from the other mercs – composed of humans, Dark Elves, and a young Minotaur – before dying down. Boss just sat down in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling “Damned kids…Don’t know shit”. At this, Darian gave a small cough to announce his presence. Boss looked up and said, his expression brightening a little, “Hey, there’s my number one and five!” Of course Darian was the number five; Boss kept a list of those that did good for Talon Company and their image, and Arcereus was at the top. ”Darian….” He paused to rub his hands together, “Tell me you got something good. After Nicholas’ fuck-up, we need something to restore confidence in our customers”. Darian grinned and dropped the bloody package on Boss’ desk; the Talon Company leader untied the cloth to reveal a Dwarven head; it looked more like Darian had chopped the head off a statue, but only because a Dwarf’s flesh was as solid as the stone they worked with. “Hehehahaha, you fucking got ‘im? No way” Boss stated with obvious glee as he held up the head, “I finally have you. Nothing to say, Lieutenant Igeer, you snarky fucking bastard? Twenty of my hunters you killed, and now…You’re hunted. Not so fun when you’re the prey, is it?”

Darian gave another small cough, making Boss snap out of his little triumphant moment. “Oh right…Here’s your pay” he stated as another merc dropped a weighty bag of coins on the table; in it was about ten platinum coins, fifteen gold coins, eight silver coins and thirty bronze coins. “Boss….Remember? Information?” Darian then asked as he scooped his payment, to which Boss replied, “Sorry, nothing new….What about that lead in Norr? Didn’t that turn up anything?” Darian shook his head, “Nothing useful; all the guy said was that the last he saw, the group holding her were headed east”. Boss nodded, “Well, I wish I could tell you more, Darian, but he was all I had for now”. Darian couldn’t believe his luck; his fist clenched as he thought of whatever cruel torture she was being put through. And all he could do was rely on hearsay to try and find her. Taking a deep breath, Darian then added, “So….What’s next?” Boss coughed and said, “One of our more…loyal customers has been having trouble with imps raiding his caravans. Says the same thing every time: A small band of six. Never kills the guards or driver, just knocks them out and helps themselves to the cargo. He and I talked, and he’s sending out a decoy caravan in a few days”. Boss then snapped his fingers and another of his lackies laid a map out on the table, tracing his left pointer finger along a red line, “This is the path it will take. He wants you to kill the bastards. Now I ain’t asking you to carry six heads back; just a finger will do. But don’t come back until you got all six of the little bastards. This” Boss paused to point to an X on the map before continuing, “is a good spot to watch the caravan from. Nice field of view and with your aim, you might be able to get all six there. I’m expecting you’ll be out for a while, so just report back whenever you’re done. You’ll meet the contact in Cynbel for your payment”. After studying the map, Darian realized just how far into the Wasteland this overwatch point was; that was going to be one hell of a hike. Luckily, he still had three syringes of his heart medication, so he should be alright. “I assume this is the part where you tell me to…” “Get the fuck out? You got it” Boss finished for him, to which Darian gave a curt nod and after placing the goggles back over his eyes, made his exit for his next assignment.

Present day......

Darian had a good run; the overwatch point suggested allowed him to pick off about five of the twitchy bastards before the sixth bolted. A string containing five severed index fingers hung at his waist, and now…It was a game of cat and mouse to add the sixth to the lot. Unfortunately, imps were a fair bit quicker than humans. Well, perhaps quicker wasn’t the word, but they were definitely a sight quickly and with their small stature could hide easily with just about anything. He did have one thing going for him, though: Imps were often only confident in groups. Get one by itself and it turned into a right little coward. For two days, Darian pursued this one imp, trying to keep on its tail, not knowing that it was taking him towards yet another strange turn in his life. “Alright, now where are you, you twitchy little shit…” the merc muttered as he scanned the surrounding trees, having lost sight of the bastard. It was here, he knew it...He just needed to find it. A small squeak was heard, snapping him out of his thoughts; he peered to his left to see the imp looking at him from around the trunk of a tree.

"There you are!" he shouted as he chased after his last target; and just like that, the imp took off once more. Darian knew he couldn't keep chasing the little bastard like this; there were too many trees. Imps were more agile, and with the heavy weapon on his back, the mercenary's mobility was limited. After about ten minutes, Darian finally caught a straight swath of flat growth that led to a small clearing; the imp made a beeline for the opening and Darian just watched, a little grin crossing his face as he saw the obvious fear. A solid steel arrow was drawn from the quiver slung over his left shoulder and placed into one of the six barrels of the weapon. The string was drawn back until a click was heard; two turns of the induction rotor would give it the necessary range and penetration power. Sighting in, he found his mark and with one pull of the trigger, the string shot forward with a slight 'tsh' and the arrow hurtled whistiling through the air before burying itself into the kidney of the imp. The halfling fell over on its face, its face screwed up in agony and its mouth emitting muted howls of pain as it tried to crawl to safety. "Got you now, you little shit" Darian sneered as he slung the weapon over his back and walked over to claim his prize.

With how slow the imp was crawling, it wasn't long before the short creature found itself with Darian's foot on his ankle. "P...Please...No more" the imp whimpered; Darian sighed as he unholstered the sidearm on his hip. "Don't worry..." he stated coldly, a 'Click' resonating as he cocked back the hammer and aimed the barrel of the weapon down at the imp's cranial stem, "This will be quick". A loud 'BANG' sounded off, sending the nearby birds into a panic as the imp now lay dead on the forest floor, an impressive hole in the back of its head. Taking out a small rusted knife, he then severed the thing's index finger and stashed with its five brothers. "Alright then...Let's see about getting paid" the boy pondered as he pushed through into the clearing the imp was hoping to escape into. He then thought of something; this town was huge. And it was in the right direction. Maybe he could find some information about his mother. See if anyone saw her or perhaps the people that held her.

But even he was a bit shocked when arrived to see such massive structures; men really built these things? How long did it take, he wondered; to build a city this massive must have been a considerable investment in time. Pulling out a small map and a compass, he checked his coordinates and saw that this was the town of Cynbel; isn't this where Boss said he'd meet his contact to get paid? "Probably a city of snoots" the young man muttered as he tucked everything away and made his way to the town; even if the people there were less than likeable, it wasn't like he was going in to talk with them. Little did he know just what lay in wait for him to discover, and how him arriving at this city would forever change his life.
 
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