Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
The evening advanced slowly, and once the crowd finished cheering and the audience emptied they rose to their feet. Behind the scenes some stage hands managed the ropes and dropped the heavy red folds in synchronization so they blocked out the audience and muffled the sound of their call for encore.
That gave rise to the smaller crowd of people who stood in the shadows backstage. With an imperceptible nod from their leader, the group turned as one to reveal a heavily bolted broom closet door. Working with quick efficient ease the group unlocked and pulled wide the thick wooden door. Inside was a dark space with no visible sense of depth. Every one of the cloaked figures filed inside despite the illusion of a shallow utility closet.
Down in the cellar level was a dark dank room with only one escape, the stairs to which were now occupied by that handful of clandestine figures coming down. Waiting nervously below were the newest trio of initiates who had managed to capture the guild's attention and warranted a trial. They were rounded up and blindfolded, herded here to await their destinies, and chance the fates.
It was trial night.
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Feb 15, 2017 5:00:33 GMT
Dakota stared into his blindfold. For as calm as he normally was this was a situation he hadn't yet encountered. He wondered who could be doing this to him. His last kill had been weeks ago although the target was a prominent businessman. Had he been kidnapped, waiting to be tortured as penance for his kill. Should this be the case, the kidnappers were not intelligent. He could hear the cheers of a crowd above him. His bare feet felt the cold stone floor beneath him, meaning that he was probably in the basement. He deduced that he was under some sort of stage, of which there were not many in Lodan, meaning that he was probably in the theater district, somewhere he knew well. Moving this legs, he felt his gun in it's holster meaning they hadn't taken his pistol. He waited there silently as he heard footsteps approaching from above, ready to escape the second they took off his blindfold.
Character art by Edelweiss Fjäril. Character design by Veronika Tallent.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Feb 16, 2017 16:24:46 GMT
When the hooded group reached the cellar floor they fanned out around the room with the comfortable ease of many practiced trials. Only one remained in front of the stairs and it was impossible to tell in the dark how many had scattered throughout the room. If the inductees were not put on edge by this then their sense of awareness was sorely lacking. The sound of a match striking was followed quickly by a tiny glowing spark near the ground where it was struck. It slowly rose as the holder (which the slight glow could not illuminate) rose to his feet.
The little flame climbed, till it touched an oily wick. The wick caught and the light spread to reveal a hanging iron and glass lantern on rustic chains just dangling over the front of the room. The light helped to see the base of the stairs and a few feet fanning out around the landing, but the inductees and their company were shrouded in shadows that seemed unwilling to relent the space to the light. The indictees were pushed under the light, still tied, and only then had the blindfolds pulled out from behind, by someone who had soon scurried back into the shadows.
"Welcome," The man with the match spoke in a gravely voice. "to your first and last trial." He let his hand drop back down to his side, though it still held the burning match. He wore a cloak that covered his head down to his boots, which were laced with small roughly notched beads of brass.
"You have been brought here on account of our scouts seeing something that either impressed them, or... infuriated them." He gave a long pause, snuffing out the match that was burning its way down to the stub. "Either way, this means you were practicing your 'skills' in our territory, 'unsponsored' so-to-speak, by the lot of us." He opened his arms wide to indicate the others that came down with him and the shadows gave a meaty chuckle from a few men and even the ring of a woman's voice, although many remained silent. When all quieted down he continued. "Since you all seem like agreeable practitioners of our work, we have decided to give you a chance."
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Feb 17, 2017 4:54:47 GMT
Dakota listened carefully, he needed to know how many people were near him, or at least a good enough estimate. He heard many footsteps fan out around him. This put him severely on edge. His pistol was basic, it had one shot. It would mean his escape, should it come to a kill would have to rely on one shot, with plenty of people around him, all probably armed, not good odds.
He heard a match strike and after a few moments, somebody from behind him pulled off his blindfold. His eyes quickly adjusted to what little light there was. He hoped he could spot a few faces or count the people but this was a darkness unlike any he had ever seen previously. He could see a flight of stairs not too far away and began to make an escape plan.
Dakota was startled slightly when the man began to talk. "First and last trial?" he thought to himself. He let the man continue to speak and as the man did, his dread turned to happiness. These people had taken notice of his glorious killings, his livelihood, his artwork. The more he spoke the more excited Dakota became. The man made it sound like there were quite a few people who shared in his activities, and if they were giving him a chance, he may finally be able to share his artwork with people but he was reserved. These people could also be very against his work and could be threatening him to stop. As the man finished his explanation Dakota began to speak.
"So, what is this chance you speak of?" Dakota asked aloud to the man in his normal calm expression. Just in case he slowly moved his hand closer to his pistol, ready to draw at a moments notice.
Character art by Edelweiss Fjäril. Character design by Veronika Tallent.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Feb 17, 2017 23:30:21 GMT
"Aha, getting excited now, aren't we? I like that spirit." The man chuckled at Dakota's question, a hollow sound that echoed in the space for a couple seconds before the air grew stale into a hard seriousness.
"The enthusiasm is nice for you, because if you're thinking this trial is optional you are likewise mislead. Each one of you has shown our organization that you have a certain lust for shadowy justice and we cannot allow you to continue your behaviors ungoverned by the code."
There was a shuffling sound as the unseen members of the shadows began to withdraw weaponry, free their hands for spell casting, and such. The air grew thin and full of the burnt taste of electricity. When the silence stretched, and their guests seemed alert, the man tilted his head back far enough to reveal a pointy chin and a hint of a smile.
"In a resume: we'll give you a little mission, that you must fulfill while still abiding by our rules. Simple, right? But I warn you, this trial will be deadly. It's a pass/fail grade, so do try your hardest and give it your best shot. Because you will only get one. Ready?" There was the sound of a bolt being slid free and the white light of the upper stage trickled down to war with the warm glow of the lantern toward the bottom step. No one came down, no one went up. Everyone waited to hear from the inductees.
Last Edit: May 6, 2017 14:12:20 GMT by Edelweiss Fjäril: typos fixed
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Feb 18, 2017 8:21:58 GMT
Dakota practically chuckled as the man talked. He would never be turning down this trial. Killing was his art, his livelihood, it was all he knew. To do so with a group of any size would only be more splendid. What he didn't like and would continue to dwell on was the code. He had no clue what that entailed, and if it meant straying away from his targets that would not be an option. However he had no proof that was the case so he decided to play along and listen.
Dakota heard weaponry being withdrawn and shuffling around. He slowly moved his hand down and grabbed his pistol, loosening it in it's sheath. He continued to listen to the man speak. "Why not just give it to us now? Why not tell us our tasks and have us be on our way? Why wait for some resume?" Dakota asked blankly. "All this waiting seems, at the very least, unnecessary. If you're letting us into the open anyways, just tell us what our jobs are, and what the code that you want us to follow is and send us on our way." stated Dakota with a slight hint of annoyance to his voice.
Dakota became increasingly uncomfortable knowing that others were there weapons ready. He pulled his gun from his sheath slightly to move it. He felt the weight of the loaded round, just as he had left it. He pulled it up just far enough to hold and grasped it by it's handle, ready to pull and fire at a moments notice.
Character art by Edelweiss Fjäril. Character design by Veronika Tallent.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Feb 18, 2017 14:39:45 GMT
"Tsk-tsk. I wouldn't shoot that now if I were you, lad." The trial speaker clicked his tongue. "Even if you did manage by sheer luck to shoot someone in this dark, by then you'd be out of bullets for your actual target and have to face all of us at once. Not a very smart way to fail, eh?"
"And if I wasn't clear, this is a trial. As such, for this specific task we had to give you some... disadvantages." Was all he said before turning his back like there weren't three initiate killers standing behind him. Because in fact there were 5 times more veteran killers ready right behind them, so why should he worry. "Buuut you'll receive your answers up there. The boss will give you your tasks and an explanation. Take it to heart, yes?" Up the stairs he went until they emerged once more back stage. Waiting for them on the surface was the redhead from earlier, holding the door ajar. The speaker gave a mock bow to her and the redhead responded him with a slight nod.
The sounds of the auditorium emptying could be heard but not seen behind the curtain. Once all of their guests and companions had come back up, the last closed and secured the door. for the first time, they could see that the door was bolted and padlocked. The first to speak was the leader of their guild.
"Good evening. I’ll not ask you why you’re here - money, revenge, pride, justice. Every and each one of you should have your reasons." Their behaviors that had garnered the guilds attention had been reported to the leader already, so they already technically knew why they were here, and what they didn't know or care to know about what motivated them to do those things wasn't necessary to chat of either. Still each was regarded with keen eyes.
"I only ask of you not to let those reasons become excuses. We’re not indiscriminate murderers. We purge them from the streets. We only write off the criminals and dangerous elements that our ‘lovely’ military fails to." The speaker from before pushed the last straggler of the ones being trialed upstairs after Dakota passed, in time to hear the old code already memorized since so long ago: "Do not blow your cover. Do not compromise the Association. Do not shed blood without reason. Those are your duty, and only rules to remember."
The redhead handed three slips of paper to the speaker, who in turn skimmed his eyes over them briefly. "We’re the ones who bring safety and clean Lodan from the shadows. They don’t know us. But they need us - allow it to stay that way. Alone or in group. When, or where, or how you do your job, and how do you choose your list is up to you. Each member here present must have a codename and respond by it while on duty, and will be seen the same as any member of CAESAL. See the name who better fits you, and be welcome to our fellowship of faceless allies."
"When your trials are over and you become one of us, we afford you the freedom to choose your own targets from our board. Today though, that is not the case. You haven't earned it yet." He passed one of the papers to each inductee. "For the trial, we give you your target and its up to you to figure out how to eliminate them according to the code. You have until daybreak. If you fail in killing the target, or succeed in killing but fail the code, you fail us and will become our next target. And lads... there are a lot of us, and only a few of you, so I suggest playing nice and following the rules eh?"
"Oh and before I forget, codenames are given to you, you do not give them to yourselves, so once we've seen what you can do we'll figure out what to call you." He cheesed, as the group of figures gave a mixture of groans and chuckles. "Like me, they call me Mirth. See?~"
They gave the trio a chance to look over their papers before adding one last helpful tip. "Fortunately for you, your targets came to see the show tonight, so they are out of their homes and about the city, affording you ample chance to get the job done. But since the show is over, they're all leaving the theater, which means you need to get moving. Good luck boys."
Dakota's paper listed the following, with a picture attached on top:
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Mar 4, 2017 9:26:28 GMT
Dakota listened to the man and withdrew his gun. He followed the man upstairs and was surprised to see a rather small framed young woman. More shocked was he to find out that she was apparently the leader. Nevertheless Dakota took good care to listen to what she had to say. He had no problems with their terms as these days he sought only to kill those he deemed unworthy. The rules to follow to would be easy. But he did find the heroes from the shadows a bit too self righteous for his taste. None the less he was given a task to complete, and complete it he would. After a small explanation from the larger man and being given a slip of paper with his targets name on it Dakota was ready.
Dakota almost burst out in rage as he read the paper. There were many types of criminals Dakota hated but of those, pedophiles were the ones he hated most. This kill would be fantastic for him. He already had every step envisioned. Silently Dakota turned and left gripping the handle of this gun. He was ready for bloodshed, and was going to have it.
Character art by Edelweiss Fjäril. Character design by Veronika Tallent.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on May 6, 2017 14:25:20 GMT
The night advanced throughout the streets, a damp starless darkness only crossed by the occasional yellowish lamp shedding its light around in regular intervals. One of them flickered ahead, threatening to burn out in a near future, and although the Theater District thrived in night hours this part of it was quiet and eerily desert.
It might rain later on, and the few steps crossing the sidewalks hushed back to the comfort of their homes - including the targets for that night. Spreading, slowly but surely going farther than they should. For now the veterans just watched, observing whether or not their prospective newbies could get the job done well. Only should the newbies fail, they'd involve themselves; and that wouldn't be pleasant for any parts involved. As of now, they had until sunrise; and it was little pastmidnight.
Time is ticking. Better hurry, boys.
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Jun 2, 2017 17:08:22 GMT
It didn't take Dakota long to find his target. The main was rather portly and had been walking among a small group which he was being quite loud with, declaring his last name to one of the women in the group who clearly wanted nothing to do with him as a last effort to interest her. The group eventually waned off until it was just him, with Dakota following behind him quietly, almost 100 yards behind. Slowly, the clouds above began to open up and the rain began to fall. Dakota let a smile creep across his face. He loved kills in the rain.
Dakota began creeping closer to the target, concealed in the darkness, and his bare feet not making a sound. His target turned into an alley to take a shortcut, and realizing his chance, Dakota speeds up and enters as well. He sees a dead end ahead, and the man is taking out keys attempting to get them into the lock. "This must be a side entrance to his home." thought Dakota. Before the man can get the keys into the door, Dakota rushes to him pointing a gun to his head.
"Hello Gerald Portmann. I'm going to need you to drop the keys." Dakota says with a smirk.
Character art by Edelweiss Fjäril. Character design by Veronika Tallent.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Jun 2, 2017 21:09:45 GMT
What a night. The show had been nice, and he'd been sure to spend enough to make sure it'd be that way; he'd even tried his luck with a few of the receptionists in the theater - so many young, pretty girls around there that it'd be a crime not to! But fate would have it Gerald hadn't managed to convince any to follow him tonight, and it had been way too crowded to just drag one without catching people's attention. Plus now this rain. He was drenched. Argh.
Groaning as he tried to see the keyhole despite the rain (and accidentally slamming the keys against the door's wood multiple times instead), he resigned himself to the thought of just waking a maid and asking for some late dinner, then going straight to bed, baths be damned and maybe tomorrow would be more lucky. At least least that was the plan until he felt something cold pressed against his temple, and turning to check it he could swear he saw a ghost pointing a gun at him.
"GAHK!"
He was about to ask how on earth did this panthom-looking colorless person knew his name, but at the very least seemed to realize that would be pointless. He'd exclaimed his name to all winds a lot that evening.
"The heck do you want! Is it money? Don't shoot!"
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Aug 2, 2017 11:08:50 GMT
Dakota looked at the man following his response and smiled. He turned and kicked the man in the gut dropping him to his knees and took a step back to avoid the possibility of him punching back with ease. Lowering the gun to point at Gerald's head Dakota once again began to speak. "No Gerald. Frankly I don't think there's enough money in the world to save you from me tonight. However I don't believe that I've properly introduced myself. Since you are a man of class I'm going to assume you've heard my name before, but in the event that you have not, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dakota Cicatrice." Said Dakota, allowing the words to fully reach the man and the terror to set in. Killing nobles was his specialty and many knew his name by this point. He watched as the man's eyes darted all over in terror. "As for why I'm here, well I'd hope you'd know. There are many people in this world that I despise but chief among them are those who would dare to desecrate the purity of a child, let alone several, and I know what you've done Gerald." Dakota explained growing a smile on his face. "I'm quite certain that you're going to die here tonight Gerald, however if you wish to save yourself, you're going to have to beg harder then any of the children who you have assaulted and you're going to tell me who supplied them to you. Do you understand?" Asked Dakota staring down into the mans dark eyes intensely. As he talked the rain around him began to fall faster and in the distance the long rolling claps of a thunderstorm could be heard.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Aug 9, 2017 7:26:30 GMT
Gerald stared with eyes wide - part from fear, part from pain - at Dakota for a moment before his gaze started to wander everywhere, looking around for an escape route. His mind running in circles, he could only think this person, Dakota or whoever he is, was obviously crazy. Some dellusioned guy with a gun playing hero in the middle of a storm. Gerald couldn't care less except for the fact that gun seemed like a real deal. How many bullets did that thing have? How fast could he run? He didn't want to die. He did NOT want to die!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaGAAAAAAAAAHHHHH"
A scream pierced through the night as he first wobbled, and then ran, pushing Dakota out of the way and rushing past him and away with a surprising amount of strength and speed that was only possible on someone pumped to the brim with adrenaline running for dear life. Beyond the fence, then over and onto the street, he headed forward screaming loud enough to wake the dead up, running to take the first turn he could spot and maybe outrun his would-be-killer.
----------------
Out of sight, from above, the team of veteran assassins responsible for overseeing Dakota in this section of the trial exchanged a couple looks.
<<Should we?>>
<<Wait some more. Let's see if he can clean his own mess up.>>
They only had 3 rules: Do not blow your cover, do not compromise the association, do not she blood without reason. Generally speaking, it shouldn't be too much to recall - and at the moment it was still a question whether or not their trialee could abide by them. If not, too bad. A full real name exposes equalled to a full can of worms opened. From the point of view of a watcher, it was but a minor inconvenience; they'd have to find someone else to trial sometime later, and clean whatever mess was left from this one. From the point of view of one of the trialees in question, however, it would be in their own favor to keep those rules in mind - the alternative to it, well... he wouldn't be needing to recall anything anymore.
"All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." - John Dalberg-Acton
Post by Dakota Cicatrice on Aug 10, 2017 5:52:10 GMT
Dakota grunted as he was pushed aside and staggered for a moment groaning under his breath and squeezing his hands so hard that each and every single knuckle of his cracked. Dakota lavished many things when it came to killing, but a victim, especially one as out of shape as Gerald was almost insulting to him. Thankfully the storm should have concealed the mans scream so at least he had that. Within moments of being staggered, Dakota began running after the man, without much time passing in the chase, in one flash of lighting the mans coattails were spotted ducking into another alley. Dakota calmed down from a walk, and allowed the sounds of the thunderstorm strengthening ahead to conceal his footsteps. As he approached the alley, he checked his reserves. One shot in the gun, 2 spares in his pockets. He could only use at most two bullets. He would need the other for a much more annoying target this night. After a few moments of patient waiting Dakota formed a plan. He peered into the alley for a moment letting the darkness conceal him and waited for the inevitable. Once more lighting ripped through the sky and Dakota saw clearly. A trash can, and attempting to hide behind it, a portly man.
This time, Dakota began to formulate a plan. He had much more time to think. Gerald had not likely seen or heard him due to his hiding and the storm, and it was clear the man would flee again. The alley was a dead end. He had to stop the man from running this time but his shot would likely wake up the whole neighborhood. Unless.
Dakota smiled to himself plan formulated, and almost let out the heartiest laugh he had ever let out. He waited for the storm to get stronger, sitting there, and when it appeared that the storms strongest point was above him,.as lightning struck in the clouds above at incredibly quick rates creating an almost constant roll of thunder. He entered the alley. The lighting revealed as he had seen before. No place for Gerald to run. As he walked into the alley, he prepared himself, still hearing Gerald's breath echoing. Nearing the trash can, he readied himself and quickly turning past it, he kicked out, catching Gerald in the stomach, resulting in a small scream and cough from the man. Before the man could get up and run, or do anything Dakota did what he should have done the first time. He pulled out his pistol and pressed it to the man's knee, pulling the trigger.
Dakota laughed as the blood spewed from the man's limb. He could scream all he wanted, but the thunder above, was loud enough to more than likely cover the muffled shot sound as well as the man's screams. Dakota looked at the man below him, as he continued to cry out in pain, Dakota once more kicked him in the stomach. "Shut up already." commanded Dakota. "You have annoyed me quite a good deal Gerald, I'm going to let you know something. I'm a kind person, I'm going to give you one more chance to live tonight. So unless you want your forehead to look like your knee, I suggest you do what I say. I want the name or names of the people who have been bringing the children to you. Do this and I let you crawl out of here alive. If you don't, I won't give you time to think or grovel. There will be only one thing going through your head tonight if you do not listen to me." Dakota spat out, as he pulled a bullet from his pocket, and reloaded his pistol, pointing it at the man's head once again, finger on the trigger. "I'm giving you 10 seconds. 10. 9. 8. 7." Counted Dakota.
Post by Edelweiss Fjäril on Aug 19, 2017 7:26:39 GMT
While the storm did dull the sound some, and would help disguise 'inconvenient' noises if made good use of, some sounds were simply too high to pass unnoticed. Mainly at that time of night, when nothing else was supposed to be loud. Lights were starting being turned on in the imediate vicinity, as Gerald ran past and over a low fence to them slam the neighbor's front door - first with his full body against for lack of braking ability (what with him still having a panic attack and the wet floor practically neutralizing any friction in his footsteps), and then repeatedly with his fists while he screamed about "deranged people", "police" and "bloody murder".
After getting a bullet to the kneecap, Gerald could do little more than crawl, whimper, and cry about his destroyed knee. But it was already too late to rejoice in his silence by then. Judging by the illumination, there were about three houses with people either awake or awaking now, with none of them being Gerald's own. And then the abruptly cut screaming as Dakota kicked him down, followed by the sound of shooting and then laughter made that number of alert homes double. An old lady peeked from behind the curtains on the one across the street, then imediately let the fabric down as she hurried to the side and out of view - very likely to reach a telephone. Police would be there soon.
Meanwhile that, the team of watchers retained their spots on the rooftops, unseen and silent, basically unmoving except to breathe and gesture-talk to each other. Crow was keeping a closer look wih binoculars, while Morpheus peek-counted the time on a pocket watch that he kept protected from the rain by his own coat. Two hours remaining until daybreak. It'd be needed at least an almost full one to return to the Main Theater. The district's security would probably be there in about 20 minutes, and EIRAL in twice as long if they received further complaints. In a best-case scenario, Dakota would be able to finish his target before at least being seen/recognized/recognizable by that square's residents, and then hide while making his way back so that the CAEsAL team could secure him back alive. In a worst-case scenario, he would either be seen, or security would arrive before he was gone, or he'd still not have finished his target before the sun rises. In which cases, or anything in-between, Gerald wouldn't be the only one to not return home.