Valkyria Chronicles - The Unwritten account of the Warhounds

K

Kyubey

Star
Joined
Oct 24, 2011
"Follow my example or I will make you one!"​

Warhounds of Innisfield




Zeppel Von Damme
Class: Shocktrooper Veteran
Weapons: 1x ERA4H , 2x Slug Pistol, 3x Flare
Personal potentials:
+ Shut up and keep Shooting!: His brand of leadership demands strict loyalty and disregard to their complaints. No buts whatsoever. All units lose their Positive and Negative Personal potentials around him.
+ Embolden: The less units on the battlefield, the more cohesive his command becomes, granting additional Movement to all around him.
- Irrational Hatred: Allied Darcsen, Gallian or Prisoners of War around Zeppel will lose morale twice as fast as any other Unit. Those units do not gain his Leadership bonus and this unit cannot help those units when critically injured. Rat is exempted from this.
Combat potentials:
+ Leadership: When fielded, all units gain an innate Fighting Ability Boost. Units starting their turn around him gain movement bonuses.
+ Defying the Odds: When Unit count is at less than 50% of the maximum amount, this Unit will not lose Morale.
+ Last Stand: When downed, the unit can preform one last attack action with a Pistol before entering the Critically injured state



Rat
Class: Scout
Weapons: 1x IRC2 , 1x Markerlight, 2x Detonation Charge, 1x Repeating Pistol
Personal potentials:
+ Bloodbound: This unit has willingly surrendered what little freedom he has to serve a man. This unit is bound to Zeppel and gain bonuses towards evading attacks from or attacking the same unit Zeppel has attacked before.
- Darcsen Hater: This unit openly hates Darcsen units, decreasing their Accuracy and Fighting ability.
- Bound by Hate: Painful memories of the past causes him to spend his time thinking ill of Darcsen, decreasing his Accuracy near Darcsen units.
Combat potentials:
+ Ghost Step: This unit's movement counts as silent when carrying a Carbine, Utility or a Pistol when outside of an enemy's sight radius
+ Tenacity: The unit counts as if prone even if the unit is standing up.
+ Guerrilla: When sneak or back attacking an enemy, this unit can move a certain distance after the attack is made.



Pvc. Eric Baldwin
Class: Scout Veteran
Weapons: 1x GRC2 , 1x Medkit , 2x Ragnaid Cylinder (Sma) , 1x Bretford Wolves Pin
Personal potentials:
+ Under the cover of Fire: Unafraid to charge through enemy fire, this unit has gains a considerable boost to Defense when there are more than 3 enemies within firing range of him
+ Immunization: This unit is protected from all Status Ailments. All units with status ailments starting their turn near Eric recover from their Ailments faster.
+ Big Brother: Always there to back them up, this unit can take a fatal shot for anyone within movement range.
Combat potentials:
+ Tumble: Upon receiving interception fire and if this unit evades an attack, this unit will tumble, rendering him immune to further interception fire for a small amount of distance travelled..
+ Assist: His taller frame makes it easier to handle his allies, losing no Movement, Accuracy or Fighting Ability when aiding an ally.
- Nearsightedness: This unit cannot see well far away, reducing Accuracy the further the enemy target is



Pv. Hugh Blackmoore
Class: Lancer Veteran
Weapons: 1x Lanzer1C , 2x Mortar Rounds, 2x Detonation Charge, 1x Repeating Pistol, 1x Blast Shield
Personal potentials:
+ Grizzled Vet: Having gone through many battlefields, this unit has bolstered Morale and Fighting skill
+ True Grit: As the battle rages on, this unit gains increasing Fighting Ability the longer this unit remains conscious in the battlefield
- Stubborn: This unit cannot switch targets, move out of weapon range or retreat until it's current target is neutralized.
Combat potentials:
+ Armorkiller: Experienced at taking down machines, this unit gains bonus Fighting Ability when hitting Armored Vehicles
+ Signal Light: An enemy marked by Markerlights grants this unit increased Fighting ability towards that one target and extended weapon range
+ Last Stand: When downed, the unit can preform one last attack action with a Pistol before entering the Critically injured state



Pv. Gage Leiberman
Class: Sniper
Weapons: 1x APR1 , 1x Binoculars, 1x Camouflage mat
Personal potentials:
+ Familiar Land: Fighting in Imperial land grants this unit additional vision range and movement.
- Deserter: Lowers evasion against Imperial Soldiers.
- Claustrophobia: This unit hates enclosed spaces. This unit cannot be transported by Tanks and losses a considerable amount of Accuracy in trenches or deep foxholes.
Combat potentials:
+ Steady Aim: Grants perfect accuracy if this unit did not perform any action before shooting
+ Pig Hunter: Nullifies an enemy Darcsen unit's defense when shooting
+ Far Shot: This unit has increased indirect Interception range at the cost of Lowered Accuracy.
 
Isara
Class: Armored Technician / Engineer
Weapons: 1x Repeating Pistol, 1x Patterend Shawl, 1x Good Luck Doll , 1x Medkit, 1x Repair Kit, 1x Radio set
Personal potentials:
+ Undaunted: Determined to change their ways, this unit is unaffected any Negative personal potentials that lowers her stats.
- Empathy: Despite their cruel treatment of her, she still cares for them. This unit cannot attack when an ally is downed and must try to rescue them immediately.
- Outcast: Feeling like an outcast from the group, this unit loses morale faster when around 2 or more Allied units
Combat potentials:
+ Motivation: Unable to simply stop short of completing a task, this unit has a chance to act again at High morale.
+ Gearhead: Thorough knowledge of Machinery grants this unit additional Repair rate. Toolboxes used will not be used up when repairing an object.
+ Field Medic: Increases efficiency of Ragnaid. This unit can heal an ally to the same extent as a Ragnaid (SML)
 
In the shade of Night, interlopers shuffled about in the dense woods, lanterns extinguished when they came upon the road. Travelling through the countryside, cold and hungry, the little refugee group found a moment's reprieve as they rested in a semi-rocky clearing away from the dirt road. "Shit...get the medical supplies, now!" commanded a young Darcsen male named Rat, pointing towards a middle-aged man who limped about, grasping his thigh. They had managed to elude the patrol...but at what cost? They had lost an able-bodied man and another was injured.

An older woman, Esme had begun to tend to Heka's wounds. The other men looked nervously. It was a bad idea to cross from Yuzen to Ingolstad was a bad idea! But with the other Mercenaries cracking down, the gunshots in the night told them their fate had they stayed there! Children cried softly, though Rat had directed the men to lay Heka on the floor, sitting upon a patterned blanket that they laid out for him. Bleeding somewhat harshly, everyone was concerned. But not Rat. He had ulterior motives. Fingering the stick of markerlights he had in his pockets, he sighed as he thought up their next move. The little host numbered no more than a dozen: most of them women, children and an elderly woman named Miol, it was quite a sorry lot. Descriminated by a past written by those who had oppressed them, a life of running away was not a life any of the Darcsen wanted to live, yet they were forced to live with it from the last enacted mandate of the Emperor calling for the murder of any Darcsen that they could see.

Hearing Heka's screams of pain, though he did bite down on the branch it was utterly painful to feel Isara try to pull out the bullet. He and Isara had 'met' in the city of Aschaffenburg: she had been captured, bound hand and foot, about to be led to her death had it not have been for him attacking the guards who held her in that room. It was quite obvious they had the intention of raping the young girl. Since then, she had followed his intention to cross the Gallian border to their freedom, coming across a Darcsen family on the way there. Throughout their week-long endeavor, he grew to admire her courage, somewhat, particularly her refusal to start hating needlessly.

After the man was comforted by the hold of his child Zekan, he walked up towards Isara just as she grasped the blankets. It was nightfall already and they would have to sleep out in the open yet again. The children were transfixed by Grandmother Miol telling them stories of valor and myth, while the others focused on the grim reality. He motioned to a few men, particularly to Hakan. "Search the perimeter. Come back and direct me to any road you find. DO NOT be found." Sending the others to stand guard, he walked up to Isara, who had been busy reassuring the little ones that all would be fine, handing them blankets to share. They were short on everything but hope. A hope that Isara had kept up. "Everything looking good around here?" he asked, helping distribute a few blankets for them to sleep on, laying one onto the injured Heka. "I'm concerned about our food supply, but it won't be long until we pass the Border."
 
Isara patted the last small child on the head and handed him a blanket before sending him off. He was no older than seven years old and already he had seen his fair share of trials and hate toward not just himself, but his entire race. Despite everything, however, the young boy had managed to hold onto a semblence of hope, a hope planted firmly on one individual's shoulders.

"I managed to stop the bleeding, but I will need to re-apply disinfectants to the wound for at least two more days. He should be fine in a few weeks," she looked up at Rat and granted him a reassuring smile, "Don't worry, I'm sure we will pull through if we decrease our consumption a little. If the children need something extra, they can have some of my share."

She was thankful to Rat for saving her, ignorant of whatever ulterior motives he may have had in doing so. Darcens held a strong sense of comradeship, one that often excluded any sense of mistrust among their ranks. After all, when everyone else was hunting them down and murdering them without relent, how could they even think to suspect one of their own of the same level of discrimination? With how things stood, Isara was glad to have someone such as Rat whose presence alone granted her a semblance of reassurance. She felt pressured to stand strong for the others, to hold the strength of the group together should things get worse or their supplies continue to dwindle without sign of relief. Of course, she too was concerned about their long-term survival, as the outlook was grim. For now, all she could only look to the distant future, one that she believed would bring an end to her people's suffering. If she had any vital weaknesses, they were most certainly her faith in others and her stalwart optimism.

"Here," Isara handed Rat a blanket as well as small Darcen doll, its carefully knitted clothes matched her own, "I know it is hardly enough to repay you for everything you have done for me, but please accept it as a token of my appreciation."

She didn't know why he had saved her, as many would have simply given her up as a lost cause, but she wanted to give him something in return for his kindness. She knew that he had some bitterness within himself, and hoped it wouldn't prevent him from accepting her show of gratitude.
 
Rat simply nodded. The Food stores were indeed quite low, having to subsist on a few loaves and some moldy cheese. Esmenet, a young lady of child-rearing age who had lost her husband a few days ago refused to have her share simply so that the young ones could have something to snack on. Isara has had her sacrifices as well: how many meals had she refused simply so that Miol could feed a little more to the nameless, orphaned baby? She spent most of her time sewing with needles, fixing machines or even making those...trinkets.

He was never a believer in their silly religion, much less their traditions. Rat disassembled an Imperial Repeating Carbine, something that Hakan was complaining that it wouldn't shoot. While it did frustrate him as hands got to work unscrewing the rifle apart, it was to be expected: Hakan himself was just a mere cobbler, much like the others whom lived a relatively normal life until the purge was unjustly mandated by his Highness. Cleaning the gunk that collected on the inside of the barrel, he sat well away from the gathering, keeping to himself as the others prayed to the Earth-Mother to protect them.

Hakan, one of the men keeping watch, had returned to him. Nothing so far, it seems. "Keep to the watch, alert me of any movement that isn't human." While Rat was cleaning up his belongings, he noticed Esmenet light a small fire to warm up their bread and to provide warmth to the weary. All but Rat was happy. In fact, Rat was...angry. Walking with shoulders stiff, he kicked the burning embers, stomping the hearth with his boots. "What are you doing?! Those Pig Hunters will find us if we Lit a fire! Eat and be satisfied! If you want we can start a fire, maybe that will do a good job luring them away!" The young woman looked down, embarrassed. Heka looked with indignation towards him. The children looked scared of him, the watchman near their encampment, Tolan, glared at him. "That was uncalled for! We only need light for our warmth!" "M-mommy...it's too dark...He's scary..." "We don't need much but please...we are so cold..."

"Grhhh..." he growled in anger, walking away and disappearing into the wooden area, simmering in his rage. Clearly everyone was against him, the stranger who had both kept them alive yet made them miserable with his disregard to his own culture and disrespect of the others. Esme, convinced by Miol, slowly began to gather some more kindling to restart the fire...
 
Isara stood and approached the others, the frigid wind burshing a few stray locks of her hair across her face. She too was cold and discomforted by their living conditions, but despite that she did not wish to see her fellow refugees vent feelings of frustration on each other. She laid a hand on Esme's shoulder and helped her start up the fire while she calmly addressed them.

"I know Rat can be troublesome at times, but I believe that he has a good heart. He probably feels wronged just as much as the rest of us do but he doesn't know how to deal with his emotions in a beneficial manner. Please be patient with him," she spoke softly, her eyes turned toward the path the young man had taken, "I'm sure he will come around eventually, so just try to get some rest and do not let yourselves be discouraged."

Isara then started after Rats, wishing to speak with him a bit and perhaps understand him a bit better. She knew that he felt uncomfortable around them, and that something was frustrating him to an almost unbearable degree. What she did not know was to the extent to which it would drive the young man, and what paths it would lead his life down.

"Rats, please come back and sit with the others," she called out to him, "If you just give them a chance I'm sure you will get along with everyone. I know you don't think much of our traditions, and that some of what we do you might see as needlessly risky, but there are some times that we need to indulge in comforts for our own good. Do you not understand that much, at least?"
 
Loneliness. For the longest time in his life it was the only feeling he knew aside from numbness and sorrow. Sitting on a tree stump overlooking the fields outside, he noticed Tolan, a former baker who lost his only son during the Scouring fan out from the foliage, keeping a good eye on any movement but refraining to stop Rat from what he had heard from the camp. He looked back and noticed the soft, warm glow of the campfire. Utterly disgusted, he simply looked away, holding his own Carbine.

Guns were soft and so very kind...they didn't discriminate, they kill without hesitation and required care to work properly. The feel of the stock and the rifle butt familiar to a young man who grew up knowing nothing but trauma and war, he looked out into the endless wheat fields, fanning softly as the cold night air blew onto them.

He pretended to act still for a moment upon hearing soft, quaint footsteps, turning so slightly with his pistol drawn only to see that it was Isara. She better not be there just to talk him into joining those Pigs for whatever prayer or song celebration they want to do. Turning slightly, his eyes were hidden within an ebon black curtain of his smooth black hair, his teeth gritting together as she spoke such words. Give them a chance? What gave her the right to speak in a self-righteous manner?! He looked visibly furious, but instead, his frown eased into a soft smile.

"Before I answer that, Isara, can I ask you a question? Why don't you hate them?" he asked simply, turning her way as he smiled maliciously. Rat rarely smiled, but the smile seemed to betray the contempt he had for Isara. Rat was an extremely odd Darcsen: he hated other Darcsen for reasons he refuses to divulge. Though this had unnerved the others, they still tried, as per Isara's pleas, to alteast and try to warm up to him. "You've seen those bodies they strung up outside City bounds. You've seen the mass graves...you know what they're doing to Pigs like you...but why don't you hate them?! Are you that stupid as to think they can be redeemed?! Do YOU not understand the foolishness of optimism?!"

It was truly a tragedy that he called them 'Pigs' and 'Them'. He really didn't consider himself a Darcsen...despite the color of his hair and the hue of his eyes...he refused to see himself as one of them, referring to other Darcsens as 'Pigs' , a derogatory slur in common use to substitute for the word Darcsen.
 
When Rat had drawn his pistol at her, she remained calm as she did not see the young man as a threat. The danger was outside, not within the heart of the boy before her. The words she spoke were from her heart, and she hoped that they would speak to his without anger or malice, but it seemed that he would be more difficult to get through to. She did not yet know or at least acknowledge Rat as a Darcen hater, although his demeanor was frighteningly similar in some aspects.

Isara withdrew from him for a moment, the stinging words which he spoke rang true in her ears. Of course she had seen the bodies of the Darcsens, lining the sides of street, piled up high and burned while onlookers cheered. She had seen women and young children shot down as they ran, helpless and defenseless people who had done no wrong to their fellow humans to warrant such abysmal treatment. They were beaten, robbed, killed, driven away, and murdered in scores of ways almost too terrible to conceive of. Yet, even so she did not believe, or rather should could not believe, that the proper response to such hate is hate in return.

"I know that what they are doing is wrong, but if we return violence for their violence is that not simply giving them even more of a reason to hate us?" Isara replied calmly, "If they see that we mean them no harm and do our best to survive, then eventually they will understand that there is nothing to fear from us. If we hate those who hate us, how can we expect to be respected? I think they simply do not understand us, for if they understood why would they hate us? How can I hate them when I can see my own self in them, albeit a version of myself that is ruled by ignorance and fear rather than by love. I think anyone who is still alive is yet within the grasp of redemption, no one is beyond the ability to change... But to answer your question more directly, I believe that if we simply let ourselves fall into despair we cannot see the hope in the future. Why should we drown in self-pity when there is something ahead that could be so much better than the present? I do not think it is foolish to look at the best of everything, rather it is foolish to see only the hate without the possibility of love."

However different Darcens were from the others people that walked the face of the planet, to Isara they were all the same in their hearts, and as such she could not hate them any more than she could hate her own self or her fellow Darcens. Rat as well was included in that number, of course.
 
Such words...he held back the urge to retch forward and puke! Idealism was the first to die in the battlefield, to speak such words while many lose siblings, parents and children to horrible people who commit such atrocities! He clenched his fists to contain his fury. What would she say to those who watched their loved ones slain, only to have their bodies shamefully displayed and denied a proper burial? What would she say to those whose homes were razed simply for the color of their Hair? What would she say to those who suffer because of a history made by those who oppressed them in the past? To think she could speak so comfortably for their suffering...how disgusting!

"...Hmph." he retorted simply, begging ignorance over the things she had said. Their little argument could go on and on, he knew of Isara's resolve and it was hard to break. As she stood there looking him into his eyes, his once ferocious, simply closed as he shrugged. Walking up, he looked at her, eye to eye with an almost...joking smile. Patting her shoulder, he almost..belittled her, the gesture seemingly implying that to him, she was but a child.

"So tell me. Even I can be redeemed? No matter what horrible things I do, you still think I have good in me? Do you really think you can still see me as Rat, not some murderer who revels in War and Misery?" he stated, wanting to see her reaction as he, without hesitation, simply grasped her left breast, squeezing amply. She too was molested when the Town Watch had captured her shortly before Rat had rescued her, reminding her all too well of the horrifying experience it was to be sexually assaulted.
 
"Why are you trying so hard to make me dislike you?" Isara placed her hands on his that was grasping her breast and tried to firmly yet gently push it away from her body, "I think that no one is beyond redemption, yourself included. I am not saying that all people are good, or that their intentions are admirable even if their methods to achieving those ends are not. I am saying that people can change, and that it is well within their reach to do so. I am not saying that they will change their minds, or even if they will ever want to. What I am saying is that we should live our lives so as to make it as hard as possible for them to continue to hate us, rather than making it easy for them to stay the way they are now."

She was fighting hard against her natural reaction to the harassment, her fingers pressed against his hand firmly while her shoulders slightly quivered as she could vividly recall the violence of the patrol upon seeing her. They had grasped her hands and forced them apart, the lust apparent in their darkened eyes as soon as they noticed that she was quite young and easy on the eyes. They were normal men, men who would probably never even think of such an act except that they knew that no one would stop them nor care if they followed through with this vile deed. One grasped her shawl and pulled it away from over her head while the other quickly held her limbs down on the ground as she attempted to struggle against them. They were full-grown men, however, and much too strong for her to put up much of a fight against. The other then slid his hands under her shirt up her smooth sides sides and reached up to grasp her breasts in both hands, squeezing firmly and almost painfully as he bent down his head to steal her lips. Just at that moment, Rat appeared behind them...

"I know you wouldn't do such a thing to me," Isara struggled to keep the images out of her mind, "So please stop forcing yourself to scare me. Why do you do things like this? Do you really want me to dislike you that badly?"
 
"Kuh-!" He gasped softly, tightening his grip almost cruelly, only to feel her own hand grasp his wrist. Not even a blush! All his life, his poor, sad life, he had fought hatred with a greater hatred, hoping to snuff out his suffering by smothering the source with his spite. To him, such words of optimism was just so very disgusting, to hear that things could so easily change. Eventually, he pulled his own hand away. Or, was it really pushed away? Despite his apparent dislike of her, he would never hurt her in any way. Just like that time, the blood of those who had assaulted her onto her cheek and her discarded shawl. The Guard even dared beg for his mercy before he shoved his knife deep into his heart. Unfriendly grey-blue orbs merely offered his hand out to her, ducking searchlights and hiding in alleyways to avoid the Town guard. He could never bring himself to harm Isara. He did not know why, but...did her words ring true then?

"It's not that I want you to dislike me. I hate you." he said, his words rather capricious as he leaned in to face her. "I hate that optimism of your's and your hopes. There is no hope to be found in a world where people judge you on the color of your hair or the cape you wear openly." But, he had enough. Brushing by her shoulder, he resolved to walk back, but clearly no in the same direction as the clearing, maybe a few meters away from the small fire lit within the foliage. Carbine slung over his shoulder, he walked away without even looking back at Isara. Such a lonely, weary soul. Despite the bravado of his arrogance and contempt for her, it didn't take a mind reader to know that something had rested heavily upon his wounded heart. What tragedy had he experienced that he would turn out to be something like this?

However, Rat stopped, just a few paces from where she was standing. Reaching into his hands, he took out...something strange, a thin, cylindrical object, darkened from the lack of light. "Hey, Isara." he said in quite a jovial yet ironically chilling voice. A sudden change in emotion could denoted, almost...gleeful in tone, his voice was. "I wonder. Will you still say the same after tonight's events?" he asked. With a swift hand movement the wick was lit, emitting a very bright flame as he threw the stick down.

Tolan and the Others, had sighted the bright-orange flame that lit brightly within the distance. He had sent off Hakan to warn the others, but before the Cobbler could turn around and walk, a loud Crack broke the serene silence of the atmosphere. Tolan stood dumbstruck, eyes barely able to wander to the bleeding hole in his forehead before he fell, the volley of gunfire injuring Hakan as he ducked against the cover of trees. "E-Esme, gather the children! Run!" he cried out, from a distance the light of his gun shooting wildly into the dark creating a light in the distance... Who was attacking them?! Better yet, how did they find out!?

Rat merely stood there, smiling as he shrugged. "Welcome to reality, Isara." he declared, pulling his gun and aiming it right at her momentarily, before he turned and shot in the distance, pulling the trigger twice before with a pained cry, Mordekai, Esme's brother and a stocky man who held a gun to protect his sister fell, his silhouette falling into the darkness as the one-sided fire fight raged on.
 
Rat's words were strange and discomforting as he spoke them. He hated her? What had she done to earn his hate? She was given little time to think over these things as continued, berating her optimism has he often had before. Unlike before, however, there was an odd sense of finality to his words, as if this would be the last time he would speak them before something happened... Something irrevocable. The strange and lonely boy intended to do something that very night, but she would have no idea what it would be until it was far too late for her to do a thing about it.

"Tonight's events?" Isara repeated as curiosity hinted with fear flavored her tone, "Rat, what are you talking about?"

Gunshots rang out nearby, followed by the cries of the children and the sudden chill of panic. They had been found, and with two of their men down and possibly dead there would be little or no chance of her escape. The strength in her knees gave away and she fell to her knees, her eyes looking up at Rat who smiled down at her while pointing a gun at her face.

"Rat... Why?" she asked, tears pooling at the edges of her eyes, "Why would you do this? Won't they kill you too? Why would you save us, only to throw us back to our deaths?"

Her face fell into her hands, unable to block out the sounds of her friend's deaths and the plaintive cries of the women and children. She knew this would be the end, the end of her freedom and most likely her life as well. Reality was knocking at her door, demanding that she lash out in a futile attempt to preserve her own well being even though she knew it would not do her a single ounce of good. She had nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. Only one word registered in her mind:

"Why?"
 
Behind his malicious smile lay a languishing heart. He didn't desire for this to happen...but...his bloodpact, the very brand that bound him to an invisible chain to his master beckoned him to commit such a heinous deed. His smile spread wide, as if...relishing this very event, enjoying to hear their screams end with gunfire ringing throughout the sky. Unseen assailants shifted about, shadows dancing as sadistic laughter overcame their cries and pleas for help. The light of gunfire revealed figures desperately trying to run away only to be cut down. Who were those people, who would so cruelly execute and kill innocent women and children?

Relishing every moment of her crushed spirit, Rat simply gloated, laughing at her misery and the sadness that formed in her heart. What of her nobles words then?! This was the true face of the cruel Rat, the very same who had saved her friends, given them a tiny shred of hope only for it to be taken away by their very own savior. Brought so close, yet so far...

Without warning, Rat had grasped her upwards, forcing her arms back as he roughly led her back into the encampment. The situation had become nothing short of a massacre. Esme was shot at the back when she tried to shield Miol and her children. The injured Heka tried to cover himself before a Mercenary emptied an entire magazine into his body. The children were utterly terrified, Miol bleeding at the stomach from a bullet to her stomach that went astray trying to hit Hakan from Tolan. Huddled in a corner with a stocky man wearing a Lancer's Blast shield pointing at them, a man with a brimmed hat smiled when Rat had walked into the scene, throwing Isara right into the fray facing Mercenaries who stood with weapons primed.

"Good work, Rat."
"My pleasure...master."

The others glared with surprise and were instantly distraught. All this time, this man was in fact the enemy as well!
 
Isara walked with Rat without putting up much of a struggle other than trying to position her arms in a less painful position as he led her back to the camp, her mind still in a hazy blur at the suddenness of his betrayal. How could he do such a thing, to his own people as well as himself? It defied all logic, and for the time her lips felt dry and numb. She could not think, neither could she feel anything, so deep had the confusion and terror penetrated her heart. When Rat threw her down among the others, she looked up at them with an apologetic gaze.

"I didn't know" she wished to speak those words but they fell dead on her lips. Such words she did not want in her mouth as her last, which she feared her end was soon at hand. She turned and looked up at the men, the muzzles of their guns pointed toward herself and the others.

"Please," she finally found her voice, although from the hints of emotional pain it was clear that she might loose it again shortly, "Please no more, I..."

Was she actually going to be raped this time? Would she be put through the agonizing pain and torment of these their vicious captors and finally die in a miserable fashion? Should she throw herself at their mercy, or was there another way? She knew that she had to, or that very fate awaited all of them that were yet breathing.

She spoke haltingly, "We only wish to live in peace and to enjoy the simple things in life. What have we ever done to you to deserve such harsh treatment and death? I ask you, no, I implore you to hear but this one request. If I can prove to you that we mean no harm to you, by submitting myself to all that you ask, would you please reconsider how you see my people as well as myself? I am willing to take upon myself your frustration and anger. Do what you wish with me, but in return please don't hurt the others."
 
Their leader grit his teeth tightly, his face souring into a vicious frown. Even Rat glared in return, seemingly wanting to remind her that she had made quite the mistake. She was not bound in anyway, thrown between the Mercenary, their captives and Rat. But it was quite obvious that many other lives would be lost today. They had put up with her whimpering but for sure she was now crossing the line here. Walking slowly up to Isara, their leader, the one Zeppel called his 'master' drew his hand back and brutally back-handed Isara, sending her to the ground. Eyes of Topaz yellow burned with raw fury as he glared at her. "I bet you the people of the past said just that as your Ancestors had killed ours! You and your people will atone for the sins you they committed and their cry for justice will not be silenced! Not now, not in the generation to come, but until the Darcsen stain is wiped from this world!"

The Darcsen Calamity. It was the very root of their persecution and the very reason the Purge had been ordered. It was said that in the past, the Darcsen ruled as gluttons and murderers who took everything for themselves and slaughtered all who were not of their kin. That was, until the Valkyrur, the saviors of Europa, slew the Darcsen King and scattered their numbers. Despite many claims of moderate scholars and historians that such a story was fabricated, it was quite obvious that many ears refused to listen to that truth as the Darcsen continue to suffer time and time again, even in ages past.

Rat clenched his hand into a fist, staring on displaying the same emotion as his 'master'. His Master then grasped Isara by her hair, forcing her up as he got a good look at her. Her features weren't very bountiful, but her looks and her attitude was quite attractive. A body that was well proportioned did look great, even if her breasts and her ass weren't more bountiful. "You'd think we'd agree to that shit?! Wahahahaha!" he said, drawing his pistol and shooting Miol on the the stomach, who reached forward as blood gushed from the wound. The children cried and grasped the slowly-dying body of their Grandmother. Such cruelty and anger...

The others look quite surprised: the stocky man who had the makings of a Lancer was surprised at first, only to display disgust. A man with a trench coat averted his eyes from the ghastly sight while a man slinging a long rifle stoically looked on. Zeppel walked forward, forcing her chin up as he looked to her. "I'll make you a deal. Rat, bring those Triplets." They weren't actually triplets, but rather, wee little children, aged 9, 11 and 14, all three whom were males. They looked very scared, one with a frown began to hit Rat at the shins. When brought up, Zeppel pointed a Gun at the middle one. "I'll let one of these Pigs go. But you have to choose which two dies! If you don't count until then, I will kill all of them!"
 
Isara fell with a painful cry as his hand impacted the side of her face, leaving a mark near her cheekbone. She knew that she had most likely been too bold in her words, but given their situation it would be highly unlikely that any of them would get away live no matter what she said. Her wide dark eyes gazed up at his as he reached down and taking hold of her hair forced her to stand. Her eyes already showed signs of resolve, knowing that her death would be soon following Miol's yet most likely not going to be as quick or as painless. If her captors were particularly cruel, they might even keep her alive till the very end so that she would have to witness all of her friend's deaths before facing her own. She knew what these people believed about the Darcens, but she knew in her heart that their anger and hate were unfounded. An entire race doomed to extinction because of previous generation's sins? Such could not be called justice in the least.

"I had to try, didn't I?" she said softly, yet hinted with pain and fear, which only was increased upon hearing the choice that he gave her to make, "I will not be made a party to murder. If you are going to kill them, I will not condone your actions by making a mockery of mercy."

She reached out and took hold of the gun, but it rested firmly in the man's hands and probably wouldn't budge from its aim had she even tried to push it away, "How could you make me choose between those I love?"

Isara had no family left to her. Both of her parents had been killed several years ago, and she had no knowledge of whatever extended family she might have had. Yet, these three had each other at least, and the prospect of their fate resting in her own hands terrified her especially since there was no hope of them surviving together.

Her eyes fell from his as she realized that her words would likely have no effect at all on the man, "Just let the eldest go if you must make me choose... But realize that they are humans and not animals that you are killing. It is you who have decided to kill them."
 
The moment she reached out, the Leader, Zeppel, pressed his hand onto his combat knife, a tense stare down between the two. She spoke very highly for a Pig who was faced before a slaughter, her noble words earning her quite the silent admiration from a few. His jesting smile softly melted into a frown, her challenge going against all that he had expected. Why did she not reply with anger or with rage? Why was she not consumed by hate or by contempt of him! As the children softly clutched each other in fear, Zeppel's hold softly shook. Was this the power of her resolve? "Kughuh-!" he grunted in anger, slapping her face so very hard with his hand.

Zeppel removed his aim at the children for a moment as he grasped Isara from her collar, lifting her up slightly. His face showed a different kind of anger: it was an anger that transcended reason itself. "Good choice. Kill them." Commanded Zeppel. As his loyal servant, without hesitation Rat drew his gun and shot the one at the right, a hole clean through his heart. Painless yet brutal, the young child bled on the ground, slowly losing his own life. The other children began to cry as Rat simply executed the eldest, shooting him at the forehead without the slightest provocation. The remaining child of age 9 simply froze on that one spot, the cruel 'Big Brother' he had traveled with now slaughtering all of his playmates.

"You think we're being cruel? We're kinder than any other Company! We decided to waste bullets putting swine like you to rest! We could have used Knives, Clubs and even nooses to destroy you Pigs for all I care!" he aimed the Barrel at her forehead, just as Rat did to the young child. By then, Miol had long passed, another four other children crying as they huddled together under the watch of another Mercenary. Pinning her body flat on the ground, he knelt one leg on her back, forcing her head up as he grasped her by her ebon black hair.

"This boy here...did he tell you? Well then, I'll tell you a cute little story. He was abandoned even by your People during his childhood." he stated, pressing down his leg a little bit for added pain. Rat looked away from his master and Isara, refusing to look her in the eyes while the reality of his past was revealed by his own 'master'. "The Darcsen of Nad Lazen hated- No, they loathed him. He was an orphan who lived in the streets, starving and abandoned by the very Darcsen nurse who cast him away. The adults wouldn't even dare include him in their communal meals no matter how hard he pleaded with them, drinking murky water from drainage pipes in shanty homes and eating garbage. He was often beaten by children of his age, calling him degrading names and blaming him for the atrocities that the Darcsen experience! You talk all that about Community and Friendship, but I ask you: why would they leave a soaking wet Orphan to starve to his death? Had it not have been for me, he would have died as a pathetic, nameless brat. I didn't twist his mind...your people did."

...Was that truly the extent of his suffering? His gesture did not attempt to disprove any of this. Was this...the inconvenient truth? It sounded almost like a lie... With a fateful snap of his Fingers, Rat nodded as he shot the last child, right between the eyes as the young child collapsed, bleeding. "...You wonder why he hates the Darcsen? Now you know: because in his time of despair, not even his own people held their hand out for him. To them, he was nothing more than a soaking wet Rat who lived near the gutter, waiting out his death."
 
Isara once again fell to the ground from the force of the blow, the pain pulling another cry from her lips as the blow contacted her. She rubbed the throbbing regions of her face with one hand as she pushed herself back up into a seated position on the ground before them. Tears formed and streamed down her cheeks, as she knew that the once cheerful voices of those children wound never again be heard in this world, yet she believed that she too would soon follow them into the other world.

Rat's story was indeed a pitiful one, one which struck hard at home in her own heart as well. She had also been an orphan, few of even her own people taking pity on her and offering any form of sustenance or assistance as they were much too preoccupied with providing for and protecting themselves. And yet, she had found this group of survivors which took her in and cared for her for over five years now. They had grown to love and understand each other, caring for and helping to keep each other safe while retaining a semblance of dignity in this dark and dismal world. And here, one by one they were dying in front of her while powerless to do anything about it.

"I am sorry, Rat," she turned to him although he did not return the gaze, "As I too am a Darcen. Yet, you are not alone in feeling abandoned and betrayed. I too wondered why my parents had to die and leave me behind in the world without a single word of hope. Yet, in betraying your own people in this manner, how are you any better than those who did no offer you even the slightest of mercies? As soon as they have no more use of you, if they do not see you any differently as they see us here and now how do you think you will avoid the same fate as I will suffer this very day?"

It would be highly unlikely that Rat would ever be sexually assaulted, yes, but in the end they would probably both end up with a bullet lodged in their heads.
 
Though Rat stood up, far more dignified compared to the state that Isara was in, he felt his own sadness returning...her words did strike a chord inside of him, but his hatred; his anger and his sorrow overpowered the soft thought as he glared towards Isara, kicking her at the rib with quite some force that it made Zeppel frown because he was rather close. "How dare you speak such self-righteous words!" he was particularly angry at her assumption. "I don't care if I am discarded aside. I had lost my life the moment I was abandoned by your people! My Master gave me a new Life and by the Heavens I will abandon it if he so desires! Where was their Kindness when I implored for it? Don't act like you know everything!" It was rare for even Rat to display emotion, but, so enveloped by rage tears did flow from his eyes. No matter.

Zeppel had just about enough. Holding his carbine, he gunned down the rest of the children and shot another few rounds into the others. He walked right beside Isara, spitting on the floor near her. As she stood there, silently, without a word, Zeppel whispered: "Get used to seeing this: this is what the future holds for those who have burned the world in the past." he said. He motioned for the others to follow and gladly they did so, to escape the carnage that had transpired.

As silence came once again, only Rat and Isara remained, one standing high, the other forced to the ground. Even he did not dare look her in the eyes, noticing the silver stream as tears fell from her eyes. Rat simply walked up to her, grasped her right hand, which was clenched into a fist, opened up her gentle fingers and placed his pistol on her hands, pointing to him. Was he mocking her? Mocking her knowing that she could never shoot a fellow Darcsen? "Kill me if you dare." he dared, his voice devoid of any emotion, whether it be pity or contempt.
 
Isara held her left hand over her ribs, which were still throbbing from the pain of the impact earlier as she looked down slowly toward her right hand which Rat had placed the gun in. She then peered up at him, a deep sense of pity for him and sorrow in her eyes for having once again lost everything and everyone that she had cared for... or rather, all but one.

"I could never kill you," she said between sobs, "You know that to be true."

Isara laid the gun back down on the ground and offered a silent prayer for her friends, asking that they would find their way to heaven and rest there without worry or suffering any longer. Unable to contain herself, she let out loud cries of anguish, as much for herself and Rat himself as for the loss of her dearly loved friends. She wiped the tears from her eyes, but they refused to stop flowing. The effort that she had put on maintaining her composure having almost completely sapped her strength so that she found herself falling into a merciful sleep as she curled up on the ground, the very ground now soaked with the blood of her previous companions.
 
So desperately did Rat desire to strike her down, to hurt her in vain hope to open her eyes to the reality that she lived in. Yet she refused to show outward hate to him. If anything, she seemed to pity him. Him? Why him?! Does she not see the horrifying and senseless act of murder he had performed before her? Why doesn't she hate? WHY!? Torn inside, his fingers grasped the gun, his face contorting to a harrowing mix of sorrow, despair, anger and helplessness. "Gugh...g..ghh..." his hands quivered, struggling to pull the trigger, yet no shot came.

Rat, sick of hearing her moping for the people he had slain, put the gun back to his holster. "...If you can't kill me...then this world isn't for you." he said with spite as he turned away, walking towards the roadside where a small commotion was raised. Near the roadside, Zeppel was confronted by the Lancer Hughes, stopped with his hand on Zeppel's shoulder. He looked him straight in the eye frowning and then punched him in the face, sending him onto the ground with a mighty thump. "They were just children, Zeppel! CHILDREN! What did they do to deserve dying like that?!" he said, almost roused to tears. Zeppel simply stood up, defiantly staring when Rat had rushed to his aid andhelped him up. "And I suppose you'll be an ally to those pigs now, right? You joined us to avoid trial for Friendly fire, I can easily send you back for a good bounty!" he said, rubbing his jaw. Hughes did not take kindly to this "Grrhh...W-why you-!" He lunged for a punch before he was held back by Gage and Rat. Such showed the deep seperation within the group, so very fragmented with conflicting beliefs. Hughes and Eric didn't think ill of Darcsen, while Gage, Rat and Zeppel disliked them to the extent of unwarranted genocide.

The three briefly quarreled, but once things calmed down, he looked at the members of the Warhounds. "You joined me because you wanted money and glory, right? Then go deeper into this ocean of blood! Your reward will surely lie beneath the surface! So either follow me or stay behind!" he said. The others were resigned and followed him, keeping their thoughts to themselves before they noticed Isara's figure standing behind them, bathed in pale moonlight from above. "If you want your revenge, come find us." was all that he said. Grumbling yet in some form of agreement, the group was about to walk away from the scene they had left behind...
 
"Why would I add to the bloodshed that I have fought against for all of my life?"

Isara was awakened from her slumber by the sounds of the men fighting among each other, her eyelids slowly peeling back as a sickening sensation settled in her chest cavity. The scent of death permeated the entire area, reinforcing the reality of her situation... Yet, why was she still alive?

She picked herself up off the ground and approached them rather boldly, "Why are you leaving me alive? Why did you murder my friends right in front of me and yet spare me?"

"I beg of you, do not leave me here," she raised her voice to them, "I desire to prove my words to you. I declare, no, I swear that I will change your minds. By my own strength I will force you to realize what you are doing is wrong, that you are mistaken about myself as well as my people. You will regret the day that you killed my friends... I wager my very life on it!"

Isara walked up to their leader but was unable to raise her eyes to meet his, "I know that you think we are no better than animals, but even animals have the right to live and struggle to protect that life. Others may fight you with guns and knives and the strength of their two arms, but I will oppose you with my heart, my words, my actions, and my very life... What is your answer?"

Her hands where shaking, but she felt compelled to say these words, these bold words, in the face of everything that had transpired before her. Of course a part of her wished to see these men suffer for their deeds, but an even larger part of her wished to save them, to act as their salvation, to be the spark of change in their hearts that would start the fire of change across the world.
 
Turning around when beckoned Zeppel spat into the ground. She was really stretching her opportunities here. She was left alive because he felt she deserved to live after the courage she displayed. She did not fall to her knees and beg for her life, she stood her ground and pleaded with them. Her words and her courage were exemplary, uncommon traits that made a good soldier. After what had happened, Rat did not seem to want to look at her, as if a shred of guilt weighed down his heart. Though she stood just up close to Zeppel, she refused to yield or flee. She had the ample opportunity to flee, yet she continued to tempt fate. A low smirk forming, Zeppel grew to admire the little Pig, even if by a little.

The entire Company was roused to her attention when she declared that she would change their minds. Was she crazy?! He turned to look the young Darcsen in the eye as she slowly walked towards them, like a lamb walking before a group of hungry wolves. "A wager, huh? Are you so sure that good will come out of this?" Gambling to them was a part of their lives: whether it be casting bones or walking into the next battlefield, chance determined whether they would come back richer than before or get a proper lot: tossed into a mass grave with the bodies of his comrades.

While Zeppel hated her for the guts she displayed, he could not help but be impressed at her integrity. He had an all-consuming hate of the Darcsen, yet he hated in in a different way: a hate that sought to break that promise and to force her words against her throat. He was determined to make her regret calling them out.

Rethinking her offer through made him agree somewhat, but he could not help but scoff. "Hahahahahaaha! What do you take us for, Humanitarians?" he asked, glaring right into her eyes, despite the fact she did not budge or take back her words. She was serious. Rat simply sighed heavily and walked out, trying to ignore her presence entirely. "So, let me get this straight. We can do anything, absolutely anything we want you to do?" he asked. That look in his eyes...he took the offer almost immediately. "Well, I'm all for it: how about you guys?" he asked, looking back to his troupe. Hughes didn't seem to reject the idea, Eric seemed to desire to abstain, Gage was apathetic as usual while Rat didn't seem to even want to look into her figure. After what had happened, they didn't seem to have the will to accept or decline. So Zeppel took the initiative.

"Well, it seems we've settled. Welcome to the Warhounds of Innisfield Mercenary group, Pig!" he said, smiling to reveal indented teeth with the words GO! GO! ZEPPEL! there was no cause for celebration, no cat calls, nothing. Their elation had died out upon witnessing the needless cruelty of Zeppel. Normally they would just capture the Darcsen and then hand them to the authorities, but Zeppel in particular desired to make an example of them. In a way, if Isara had not shown the gall to oppose them, maybe the others would have just been handed over. But at the same time, she would not have lived had she displayed such courage.

Walking up to her, he lifted her chin up gently. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you, making you regret this little wager..." he said, spitting on her left cheek. "Take off that damn Cloak. It's an eyesore."
 
Isara avoided direct eye contact, her large dark eyes turning away from his as he pulled her face upward to meet his. She wordlessly reached down and pulled her Darcen cloak up and over her shoulders, holding it in her hands as she stood before him. It was a keepsake of hers, one of her few possessions that she truly treasured, yet her determination to prove herself to the men was even stronger still. She raised her hand and silently rubbed the spittle from her cheek.

"Yes, I will submit myself to your will without question," she answered his question firmly but her voice held much less force than before, but it was probably not the wisest thing for her to do. Her body wished to flee, to run as far as her legs could carry her from this despicable band of men, yet wasn't that exactly what they wanted her to do? To watch her resolve crumble and fall before her instinctual self-preservation? Her iron will fought against that instinct and held, at least for now... But she had no idea the extent to which these men would try to break that will and smash her very soul under their feet.
 
He had awaited expecting her to simply refuse and stand there, to see her disrobe her shawl reinforced to him that her words remained true. Oh, now the fun will begin trying to break her down and utterly destroy her soul. Many scenarios, each one much more cruel than the other played in his head, the many things he would do to her. Rape in comparison was merciful in contrast to the ideas he had in store. Holding a coil of rope, he bound her wrists before her, tight and taut as he cast aside the shawl, presumably to leave it there as he stamped on the pattern briefly to gain distance. To test it, he tugged rather harshly, letting her fall onto the ground.

"Get up, Pig. You don't have my permission to wallow on filth." Tugging harshly some more, he forcibly moved her along, opting to instead leave the bodies as they were: butchered and open to predators and the elements. Such disrespect for the Dead! A proper Darcsen funeral was to be the veneration of the body and a burial; to leave corpses out in the open was essentially to damn them to evil spirits that snatched the Righteous away to hellfire. However, Rat was nowhere to be seen, only to resurface with the men's rifles and carbines slung over his shoulder, a magazine poking out of his sweater pocket. Amongst his belongings, he clutched a folded piece of cloth, presumably her Shawl and the legs of a small knitted doll within his fists as he carried the Group's weapons. Pilfering to them, but for him...it was something else. Was he trying to atone softly by helping her, even if by a little? The Night dawned upon them, the moon shining brightly upon their figures. Eventually she was led off of the dirt path, at times forcibly tugging to have her all on her front only to be dragged slightly as the walk continued, the coarse rope chafing slightly to her wrists. Then, entering a small encampment, which was really just a tarp drawn up with leaves and branches for camouflage, a few stacked crates of ammunition and a few rifles resting on them, a small map on a portable table, a charred fire pit and a few pitched tents. The Tarpment seemed to serve as their meeting ground, the map implying where objectives are read and where meals are served.

Pushing her forward, her bonds were released as Zeppel sat down, looking right at her while the others lowered their armaments. "Strip." he commanded simply, a word that had Rat turning aside to see. She wore a blouse and a knee-long skirt, adding overall to the visual appeal of the young, dark-blue haired girl. Uneasy with his command Rat accidentally collapsed a small rack of Carbines, falling to the ground with considerable clattering.
 
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