Reclamation [Very far north]

The site of pilgrimage and orgiastic excess during the infamous Roqpin summer festival. Keep a cautious eye out for emotionally overwrought Elw as you wander the tundra cliffs, they are liable to tell you of their willingness to bleed for their country - followed by a practical demonstration of the same.

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Carwood Barton
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Joined: Thu Jun 07, 2012 2:27 am

Reclamation [Very far north]

Post by Carwood Barton »

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4


“Ladies and gentlemen, I present- No, doesn’t have the right ring. Messers, may I introduce - no, I need more cadence. Finally, it is time for - Hm, no.” The speech was vitally important - it would win him several battles without the need for pesky fighting. Unfortunately, he was interrupted by none other than the loathsome Head of the Foreign Service, who seemed to be enjoying his position of power.

“I do hope you aren’t planning on running again, Aaden,” said Gerald, shutting the door behind him. “I would hate to have you hit on the head again.”

“What do you want, you old sock?” said Aaden.

“It has been three days, although let me say that I have no qualms about keeping you here indefinitely. In fact, if it were up to me... well, let’s just say that killing you right now would solve a staggering number of problems. But we won’t be doing that, at least for the moment.”

“Ah, so your employer is more intelligent than you,” Aaden remarked, delighting in the momentary surprise that flashed in Gerald’s eyes.
“Please Gerald, you aren’t nearly clever enough to have thought this out on your own. I don’t imagine you plan on making a villainous speech in which you reveal to me all your plans?”

“No,” said Gerald, “and even if your imprisonment aids other parties, my motives have always been the security of the Union and the world. You are an invariable threat to both.”

There was silence as Gerald waited for a response, but Aaden just fixed him with a cool emerald stare.

“Well,” Gerald lamely continued, “I obviously can’t release you until I can be sure of your intentions, but I am authorized to make you this offer: You will be allowed the freedom of the palace under the condition that two members of the Service accompany you at all times. Do you accept?”

Aaden appeared to be thinking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phil had worked the front desk of the prison for twenty six years. He was a couple of years away from retirement, assuming the pension worked the way it was supposed to and then his insurance and his medicare would kick in. He could finally go home to his battleaxe of a wife, who had been eyeing Neighbour Frank for the past thirty years, and make sweet and tender love to her. He could aimlessly call his kids who he didn’t spend time with because he was on the job all the time. His life would finally be his again, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Suddenly there was a muzzle of a rather large handgun shoved in front of his face. Phil, like any rational and sensible man looked up to see his new friend and potential murderer.

Standing before Phil was a colossal man in a dark uniform. The man had a full beard of brown emanating from his face, and a rather disinterested look on his face. On his shoulder was a crest with three horses, one with a single horn, one with wings and one with neither.

“HELLO THERE,” the giant boomed, “I hope I’m not inconveniencing you, but I’d like to know where Lord Aaden is being held.”
de
‘Protocol,’ Phil remembered, ‘according to protocol-’

“You should know that I can simply look through the blood drenched computer in order to find him,” the man grumbled, “It doesn’t make a difference to me. I feel like it makes a difference to you though. Just trying to be considerate, thats all.”

Phil trembled as he typed in the Lord’s name. “H-Hes in cell block L, row D.”

“Thank you very much Phil,” the gun moved away from his face, “You’ve been extremely helpful.” The man made his way to the door marked L. The doorknob seemed impervious to his intimidation. This seemed to frustrate him. It took about twelve seconds and a grunt before the entire door was thrown from its hinges in frustration. As the man entered through the hole where the door used to be Phil caught a glimpse of the same crest on the man’s shoulder embroidered on the back of the man’s coat. Phil briefly entertained the idea of sounding the alarm, but he felt that would only serve to feed the door ripping man’s anger further.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What could there be to think about? You would prefer these accommodations?” said Gerald incredulously.

“Well,” Aaden said slowly, “I really have no intention of remaining here longer than I must”.
“This is not a matter of what you intend - are you delusional?”
“No,” said Aaden, suppressing a semi-smile. “I’m simply trying to work out the estimated time of arrival.”
“Of what?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gregor had made it through several cell blocks, remarkably and disappointingly without any casualties. Well, casualties was a very loose term. He hadn't killed anyone per say, at least not in the literal sense. He had to make sure to clean the man's scalp off his shoulder, probably with Maverick’s Coat Cleaner that Carwood had bought him for his birthday.

The next room had the same situation as the last, the guards were understaffed because of the senate situation beforehand, and it wasn’t hard to terrify the remaining ones into fleeing. Therefore the room was empty before his arrival, the guards had heard him taking care of business in the previous cell block, so he would have to make his way through this one alone again. People always told him it was better this way. In the grand scheme of things it was, but it was just so boring. This was row C, so the next one would have Aaden in it. Excellent, hopefully the way out could be more eventful.

Suddenly a throwing star struck him in the shoulder. It would have hurt an ordinary man, but Gregor didn’t really pay it any heed. A second one came sailing into the table that Gregor had flung in its path. “Interesting,” he mused as a slender figure emerged from the shadows.

“Pleased to meet you,” the figure spoke, “I reqvuire a name before I k-” she was interrupted by a steel construction girder colliding with her face. At least that’s what it felt like. He wiped the mucus and blood from his hand. “Nah,” he said, standing over the woman who was trying to comprehend what her nose had shattered into. “Do you have any relatives you’d like me to send your remains to?”

“I have many relatives, brute,” she spat back at him, “None of whom will be holding any funeral but the one for Lord Aa-” she narrowly avoided another fist from striking her in the chest.

“Oh where are my manners,” he mocked, “Were you trying to give me your name? My father always told me to ask for a ladies name.”

“Yvgena Rakhmelevitch,” She uttured.

“Alright Yvgena,” he said with a smirk, a bow, and another throwing star sailing over his bowed head.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Drat,” said Aaden, “my calculations must’ve been off.”
Gerald spat on the ground. “I’ve had enough of your nonsense,” he said, “You will remain here until either you come to your senses or you waste away. Again, if you’d like my input, I would prefer the latter.”

Just then, Gerald seemed to levitate, and he was yanked backwards with astonishing force. His head slammed into the metal bars, making a sickening noise. The bloodied head rolled from one side of the bars to the other, clanging rather rhythmically as his head lost more and more of its constitution.

“Two minutes off,” said Aaden. “I trust you’ve met my Chief of Staff, Gregor Brasky-Cutting”
Gregor lifted Gerald’s bloodied semi conscious body to put them eye to eye, “The ninja attorney delayed me.” Gerald muttered something incomprehensible. There was a pregnant pause between the two men. One of whom was behind bars.
“You’re going to say something clever, I expect,” Aaden muttered.
“I believe the situation speaks more than I ever could,” Gregor replied as he found the key to the cell and freed his lord.
“Ninja attorney? The woman?” said Aaden.
“She escaped,” replied Gregor, “and is now squarely at the top of my Kill List.”
“Very well.”
“We have to go,” grunted Gregor, “the situation in Elwynn has.. deteriorated.”
“Really?”
“The Senate is quite literally in flames, mostly caused by Babkhan bombardiers.”
“Doesn’t that make our mission easier?” Aaden asked.
“No,” said Gregor, “since the man controlling the tanks is the person most likely to resist us.”
Aaden spat, “Ardashir? The Khan?”
His question was met with a nod, “He goes by ‘Emir of Raspur’ now, but it is unquestionably the same scheming Babkhan.”
“The man is a shadow of his former self, he’s too busy pillaging villages in minecraft to be of any real threat. He must be two hundred years old,” said Aaden.
Gregor looked at Aaden sternly, “You should give proper respect to your adversaries. The Khan is a veteran of nearly a dozen wars, and still tells his side of the story for each one,”
“What is that supposed to mean aside from the fact that he starts a lot of wars?”
“If he wasn’t good at winning them he wouldn’t be here to tell his side of the story,” Gregor continued, “even if he is a shadow of his former self, he is still a worthy adversary.”
Aaden sighed, “You’re right,” how he hated it when Gregor was right. “However, we have a more pressing issue. This little distraction was brought to you by the Union Foreign Service, but it was made possible by someone else. I would like to know how someone bought a government agency and turned it against me without us knowing.”
“We’ve made many enemies with our plan,” Gregor replied, “Sending Carwood couldn't of helped matters.”
“In any case,” said Aaden, stepping over Gerald’s twitching corpse, “Let’s get out of here.”

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