[RP]Skies of Elleard

"Why yes, young man. Why do you ask?"

Dominic had hesitated before speaking his reason to the professor, but after he had explained himself a bit more, the strangers seemed somewhat more comfortable with responding to his questions about the tablet.

"Recently acquired. Southern Continent, in the northwestern Peninsula. A lot of these places aren't named, so we usually name them ourselves after the discovery."

Dominic raised an eyebrow as the blue-haired man answered him, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. We usually name them ourselves? This person didn't sound quite like a student, unless the “they” he was referring to were an archaeology class, and they were going on extensive field trips to do practical research...

"Ah, yes..how was your venture down in the unexplored regions."

The professor addressed the other young man again; apparently he hadn't gone with him if it had indeed been a field study.

"Heh, barren grasslands, wildlife we've never discovered, the usual. Both Countries would pay a hefty sum for the cartography, especially since they're using the new lands as battlegrounds. Shows that mercenaries like me, will always have a use out there..."

A light bulb went on in Dominic's head: a mercenary, of course—that was why he didn't seem to give off the impression of a student. However, from the way it sounded, this man wasn't just some run-of-the-mill soldier of fortune either. Finding unusual artifacts and transporting them around safely usually took an added measure of skill—keeping them out of enemy hands, navigating dangerous terrain to obtain them, and the often excruciating task of finding them in the first place. In all honesty, Dominic hadn't really given a lot of thought yet to the type of team he'd need to put together to carry out his foray; he'd just assumed a large number of inexpensive, unintelligent-yet-hardworking lackeys would be a sufficient entourage to accompany him across the globe, and assist him with locating the fabled Dewprism. However, if someone like this were willing to accompany him, he might not need such a large team after all.... He thought of how much money he had in his coat pockets, and did some quick math in his head...

“That sounds like interesting work for a mercenary,” he said finally, trying to keep the conversation going. “Do you work for anyone in particular?” He hesitated; he hoped he wasn't being too forward, but he needed to get his plan moving. “Er, forgive me for being so forward,” he apologized, “it's just that I've been looking for people who might be able to assist me with locating a particular item of interest. An artifact from the days of the Ancients, one that would hold a great deal of value if it were to be recovered from wherever in the world it's hidden. And, if the rumors are true, it even holds the potential to grant a wish to anyone who lays a hand upon it. Have you heard of something called the Dewprism?”

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OOC: BTW, the light bulb used above as a literary device is 100 percent steampunk :monocle:
 
Red eyes stared out at the gloom of night around him. Sol, named for the sun, worked best at night. How ironic. White trainers, almost casual in appearance, yet deceptively endurant, stomped along hard and heavy rock. His mark was here. A Skylerkian spy. It was his duty to eliminate her and destroy all information.

There she was. Trying to climb over the rocks. She hadn't seen him yet, but he was trained in the art of stealth and silence, and he wanted to give her a quick death. He couldn't do that if she was running. He was closing in on her now. Not much longer. He could abandon stealth now. There was no place for her to go.

"Rochelle." His voice was deep and immediately drowned out the sound of rain hitting rock. She turned around, blond hair plastered to her face by the rain. "Sol..." she whispered, taking a step back, but there was nowhere for her to run.

"It's over. Hands up at once."

Rochelle tensed, then reached for her waist and pulled out a pistol. Firing immediately, three bullets surged towards Sol, who raised his right hand and performed a karate chop through the air. The bullets splintered and fragmented in the air, shrapnel of hot lead disappearing into the night. Sol looked at Rochelle with pity in his eyes.

Her feet left the ground at the behest of Sol's mind. She gasped and struggled in vain against the invisible force that was holding her in place, but it was useless. The Skylerkian spy was about to be snuffed out for good.

White fire formed in the air, without smoke. Hovering between Sol and Rochelle, it formed into a spherical shape, crackling with silver sparks. A second later, it jolted towards Rochelle with incredible speed, distorting the air like a heatwave.

It struck Rochelle in the chest, and blossomed outwards like a flower, into tongues of white hot fire. Rochelle was dead almost instantly, skin and flesh blackening in the blistering heat. Turning to ash. Disintegrating.

Within seconds, all that was left were ashes, blowing away in the cool night air. Closing his eyes and transporting his mind across hundreds of miles to his immediate superior, Sol whispered mentally It's done. Work completed and reported, he began to make his way back to his waiting airship. He wanted to get home. Forget about the murder he had just committed. It was kill or be kill in this war.

That was what he had always been told.
 
“That sounds like interesting work for a mercenary,”

"Not really." Wilheim said, trying to be modest, "All I do is skulk around ancient temples and grab anything worth of value really. I only picked that up as a little extra that I plan on selling, or giving away or something. I dunno what I plan on doing with the tablet."

“Do you work for anyone in particular?”

"Ah yes," The Professor said, "Wilheim is one of the best independent freelance mech pilots this side of the world. He received some of the best training as a member of the Skylerkian Army."

"Now, now Professor, I don't wanna him getting ideas for him to become a mercenary." Wilheim knew it was a cold, and sometimes lonely life. But through it all, he managed to have a respectable K/D Record and Mission Success Rate (51/7 and 77% respectively) "No, in fact, I'm actually looking for a job. Why, you're looking to hire?"

“Er, forgive me for being so forward,”

"If you're going to spit it out, just spit it out, I don't have all day you know..." Wilheim said, annoyed.

“it's just that I've been looking for people who might be able to assist me with locating a particular item of interest. An artifact from the days of the Ancients, one that would hold a great deal of value if it were to be recovered from wherever in the world it's hidden. And, if the rumors are true, it even holds the potential to grant a wish to anyone who lays a hand upon it. Have you heard of something called the Dewprism?”

"Yeah, I've heard the rumors, but that's what they are...just rumors." Wilheim flatly stated.

"Maybe so old chap, but when you think about it, the whole world hasen't been explored. We don't know what to believe, or what to make of it."

"Don't try to contradict me..." Wilheim finally said before turning to the fellow, "Alright, if you're going to hire me, then how much are you willing to pay in advance?"
 
"Not really. All I do is skulk around ancient temples and grab anything worth of value really. I only picked that up as a little extra that I plan on selling, or giving away or something. I dunno what I plan on doing with the tablet."

"Ah yes, Wilheim is one of the best independent freelance mech pilots this side of the world. He received some of the best training as a member of the Skylerkian Army."

"Now, now Professor, I don't wanna him getting ideas for him to become a mercenary. No, in fact, I'm actually looking for a job. Why, you're looking to hire?"

Dominic had glanced back and forth between the two men curiously as they'd answered him; the fact that the mercenary seemed to be on good terms with a professor of anthropology did seem promising. And that he was currently looking for work was even better. Even if--

"If you're going to spit it out, just spit it out, I don't have all day you know..."

--he did seem a bit impatient now and again. But, Dominic figured, it was certainly a good thing that he seemed eager to get right down to business. His answer to Dominic's question about the Dewprism, however, was not what he'd been hoping for.

"Yeah, I've heard the rumors, but that's what they are...just rumors."

Dominic frowned. He was about to respond in protest when the professor spoke up.

"Maybe so old chap, but when you think about it, the whole world hasen't been explored. We don't know what to believe, or what to make of it."

"Don't try to contradict me..."

Dominic smirked a little; he was starting to like this professor's attitude. The mercenary turned back towards Dominic, and finally asked the question he'd been waiting for.

"Alright, if you're going to hire me, then how much are you willing to pay in advance?"

Dominic quickly thought his finances through one more time, then decided on a figure, glad the man was beginning to sound more willing. “Ten thousand up front, if that sounds reasonable. And I, eh--” He sideglanced hesitantly at the professor, hoping he didn't sound too devious, then back at the man called Wilheim. “I plan on doing something very worthwhile with the artifact after we've found it, so I can pay you considerably more at that point. Oh, and...” he added, wanting to make sure all the bases were covered, “if for some reason we're unsuccessful, then I'll at least give you ten thousand more at the end of the expedition, plus any additional costs you may need for repairing any damage done to your mech. Whatever additional treasures we find along the way can be divided up accordingly as well, which we can discuss in more detail if and when we come across them. How about it, uh...Wilheim, is it?” He extended his hand to the mercenary, hoping for an affirmative response. “Oh, and I'm Dominic, by the way. Dominic Atherton.”
 
“Ten thousand up front, if that sounds reasonable. And I, eh--, I plan on doing something very worthwhile with the artifact after we've found it, so I can pay you considerably more at that point. Oh, and...”

"Ten thousand bani...Heh, the kid had deep pockets..." Wilheim thought.

“if for some reason we're unsuccessful, then I'll at least give you ten thousand more at the end of the expedition, plus any additional costs you may need for repairing any damage done to your mech. Whatever additional treasures we find along the way can be divided up accordingly as well, which we can discuss in more detail if and when we come across them. How about it, uh...Wilheim, is it?”

Wilheim shook the kids hand. 10,000 in advance and 10,000 if unsuccessful, with much more money if successful. It sounded like a good deal. "Fair enough, kid. but first we'll need to find an airship. I don't own one, and my contracts usually provide an airship."

The professor spoke, "Well, there is a convention currently ongoing nearby. Maybe someone there can provide an airship for you."

"Heh, thanks Professor Hillenberand. Till we meet again."

"Cheerio, old bean, and you take care now."

Wilheim left the office, and began heading towards the convention, hoping his contact would follow.
 
"Now then, I do believe I will be closing up shop soon. You have given me quite a bit to think about. Shadow you will remain so we can discuss the terms of your lease."

Shadow walked over to a chair and sat down.

"Alright then. How much would you require? Oh, and I'm sorry about the rabble earlier; I have never had good... relationships, with that sort of people."

This was true. Whenever Shadow had the bad luck to find a group of bad seeds like that, it generally ended with violence, ranging from a simple punch to a lethal spray of full-auto bullets from his arm. On occasion his golem was required to make them back off: drilling into the ground in front of them worked well.

"Also, I would be willing to help keep those you dislike out, and I will help wherever necessary in your shop; I'd rather not my landlord get any sort of trouble. Though you may be in trouble for housing me..."

Shadow closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He would answer only if asked; his past was to stay that way, the past.
 
Ah appreciate the message missy, but bout your request for ah commission, ahm fraid i cant accept it. Y'see, Ahm in high demand. Gotta lotta guns to be smithing and it just so happen the navy had commissioned me to construct some mighty cannon on one of their battleships, so ah gotta concentrate everthing on it. Sorry filly.

It was disheartening. She had thought Mr Hyde would have been able to craft her a quality gun, but it seems that he is unable to do so and there were no other gunsmith that she knew in the city that would make one which she would accept. Herr heart was not in the mood to search. In fact, now that she was back in the city, Cuclainn decided that she should get some "me" time. After all, she had not taken a break since she left. What was there to do, though? For a mercenary robot girl, she could hardly do what other normal girls do. From her eyes, she saw young girls running around, playing and flirting around. Cuclainn was sure that she was unable to do any of those.

*Sigh* {Saddened} What is there to do....

Something fluttered by and became stuck on her bodice skirt. It was a flyer of sort and curious, Cuclainn plucked the piece of paper from her dress and straightened it out.

Come one, come all! Come to the Science Convention(?) and be amazed with the latest in current technology and the most stunning machinery of the century! Also, come and have a look at the oddities that have gathered from all corners of the world, recovered from barren wastelands and new frontiers!

This, interested Cuclainn. Her life revolved around her mech, her body and her weapons. It was only logical that with so many mechanical and technological parts in her life that she would grow an interest in it.

{Joy} Interesting. Lets see what this is....

The Science Convention (?) wasnt too far from where the flyer hooked onto her. Within a few minutes, she had arrived at the entrance and gone into the center. A further one minute later and Cuclainn was entranced by the many displays around the area.
 
Darquewillow heard Stephen call from the doorway. In a fit of irrational fear of what she would see if she went through the door, she opened the window to the office she was in, and climbed down from the window. The shackles made it very hard for her to maneuver. What was with Raistlin just then? It made no sense, it wasn't like him. That look that he had on his face scared her dearly.


After she reached the ground, she walked around the side of the house only to see what had to be the most bizarre shooting star she had ever seen. It looked like it had crash landed into some trees. As she saw it, she couldn't help but go towards where it fell. As she neared the trees, she saw what wasn't a star, but a small child.


Darquewillow walked slowly towards the child, and tried to see if she was alright. Admist the chaos in the mansion, it was strangely peaceful outside.


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(OOC: Not putting your character down, Stephen. Amidst Raistlin's anger and rage, his thoughts are no long logical, and they're not normal for him, in the slightest.)


Thirteen saw the human man before him say something to him, yet his words were insignificant. His target was the equally pathetic quivering, sniveling, pile of filth on the ground. Thirteen couldn't help but laugh as he noticed the man frantically calling his guards to shoot at him. Their puny steam rifles wouldn't have any effect.


Walking down the stairs, he never took his eyes off of Ragnus as he blew holes into the walls and the guards of the mansion. The walls on fire, the building still rumbling as the foundation cracked and crumbled, Thirteen did nothing but smile, with every single one of his teeth gleaming.


“What do you want?! I'll do anything, don't kill me! PLEASE!”


How silly, was he really that pathetic? “Negative, I don't need your inferior human currency. You, and your kind shall parish by my hand, as I bask in your blood, and piss on the graves of you and your ancestors.”


Then, with a snarl, eight black tendrils ripped themselves from Thirteen's back. Each one of them with a hand at the end. “Your life ends here, I shall enjoy this greatly.” The tendrils moved like lightning. Two grabbing each arm, and two grabbing each leg. Thirteen pulled with each of them, ripping the arms and legs of Ragnus as if he was a fly.

Blood spilled from his arms and legs, and the stumps where they used to be. Thirteen watched as the blood hit the floor, dripping and moving as if paint was spilled on the ground. The smell of it was pure bliss to Thirteen.

The scream that Ragnus let out was enough to wake the dead. Due to blood loss, Ragnus would die quickly. As Ragnus's body hit the floor, Thirteen crushed his head beneath his boot. Laughing at the top of his lungs, Thirteen yelled, “I GUESS THAT WAS RATHER CRUSHING!” Rather amused at himself, he left the now ruined building.


As soon as he stepped out, whatever came of Raistlin was now gone. The tendrils shattered like glass, and Raistlin passed out at the front of the building.


What just happened, Raistlin thought. I only remember jumping on the roof. He didn't remember what happened, he turned around in shock to see the building burning. Yelling as loud as he could, he shouted, “STEPHEN, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?”
 
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Stephen followed as the deranged raistlin Exited the building, the guards had become more worried about getting the hell out of the building, Stephen had the same idea, holstering the pistol in hand and grabbing the Assault rifles handle, he charged out. as he got outside he saw Raistlin on the floor, “STEPHEN, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?” came from Raistlins mouth causing him to give him a look of disbelief "Me?" Stephen questioned.

"All i did was cover you, you did the rest, i don't have the firepower to cause that much damage, you on the other hand went mental, and blew the shit outta everything" Stephen explained "Darquewillow isn't in there, i called out for her, but i heard nothing, as for you" Stephen paused "you got Issues" Stephen then took another Pause "Big ones"

Stephen looked around, trying to think where Darque could be "where is she?" Stephen asked "we really should get the hell outta here"
 
As she stirred, the dark shroud seemed to fall away, allowing the sun to cast its warm rays upon the half-awake girl. A soft moan passed her lips as she brushed crisp white hair from her face roughly with the palms of her hands, branches from the trees unfurling from their protective canopy and settling her gently upon the ground.

She could sense there was another close by. Call it instinct, but Seventeen, or Xerian as she had been named, came over with the peculiar feeling of being watched.

The girl did not open her eyes until she turned her back on whatever or whoever this newcomer was. For starters, she didn't want to startle them. Secondly, she didn't want to startle herself. What if it was some hulking beast?!

"Who's there?" she asked in her gently, small voice, eyes half closing as her ears pricked for the slightest of noises that would indicate the stranger had moved.
 
“I doubt very seriously that I could have done all this.” Raistlin said. “I've never lost control before, not once.” Or at least, he had never thought he'd lost control before. He'd only seen it happen once, just once. It happened when a Furion was in trouble, enraged, or near death. Raistlin had never been any of these... Then he remembered how angry he was towards the Slave Master. What have I done, Raistlin thought.


However, Raistlin was worried about Darquewillow. What if she was still in that room?


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Darquewillow jumped at the sound of the girl asking her “who's there”. In all reality, Darquewillow was dumbfounded at how to answer that question. She couldn't think of a good way to answer it without having a long awkward pause, or conversation. Doing the only thing she could, she answered her question. “I am Darquewillow... Who are you?”


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“P-professor Scarlet?” The research assistant asked. “You as-asked me to let you know if any of the Furions activated their defense mechanisms.” The assistant was scared, scared of the woman who was turned around in her large chair, looking out from her window. “Yes, I did. If you're here to state the perfectly obvious, you're doing a great job of wasting my time.”


“Y-yes, I see. However, one of the Furions has activated their defense mechanism.”
“Which one?”
“Thirteen, madam.”


Her eyes grew in excitement over this. Thirteen had escaped recently, and he was one of her better creations. She wanted him back, she would need him back for her plan to work.


“Ready my airship.”
 
Stephen crouched down next to Raistlin as he reloaded his Assault Rifle "Raist, if she was in there she would have answered my shouts, as for what you just did, i think you may have lost your temper, it's a very human thing to do" Stephen sxplained as he stood back up "anyway, we gotta find Darque and get the flaming shoopuff outta here" Stephen announced as he looked into the using his scope, seeing smoke comming from a forest close by he smiled "Darquewillow is to nice to not help the injured, there is smoke coming from the forrest, we should check it out" Stephen suggested to Raistlin
 
"I am Darquewillow... who are you?"

The female Furion smiled softly as she turned to face the speaker. Eyes fluttered gently open as she placed her scarlet red eyes upon the other girl. Who was she? That was a very good question. Mere hours ago, she had been nothing but another number. A Furion being experimented on. The memories of the voices during those experimentations were like a fuzzy dream. Each voice overlapping the other whenever she tried to think back on just what those men's voices had been discussing. What her purpose was. Who she was.

Who was she?

"Seve..." she paused for a moment. Xerian wasn't a name that was going to come to her lips on first instinct. Not yet. Her mind automatically brought the word to her lips and she allowed it to tumble past. "Seventeen."

She smiled again, a soft expression that touched her eyes and lit them up. On the outside, her fear at meeting another of the same figure as her did not show. Inside, her mind and heart were going a mile a minute.

It was a new experience for her, but this woman did not seem to be a threat. She noticed the shackles upon the girl, tilting her head, curiously.

"What happened?"
 
“You human's are a very illogical and irrational species. I'm 100% sure I hate emotions. They're idiotic.” Raistlin said. Looking around to see that a majority of the area they were in was pitch black, he decided to follow Stephen in the direction of the trees.
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It was another Furion. The red eyes, the number for a name, it had to be another Furion. “What happened?” Seventeen asked, referring to her shackles. “It is a very long story. Are you okay?”
 
as Stephen broke through the Edge of the Tree's he strode through the forest, as he moved he heard two voices, one of which was Darquewillow "told you so" he muttered to Raistlin, as he got closer to the voices he raised the barrel of his rifle slightly, and slowed down.

moving slowly through the forest he saw the back of Darquewillow so he lowered his rifle, as he approached he caught sight of another furion ~oh snap~ he thought to himself. he broke into the clearing, and looked at Darquewillow "Didn't we say that we would come and get you?" Stephen questioned "why didn't you answer me when i called out to you?" Stephen then added.
 
Gaining control of herself, Seventeen signed, inhaling sharply, taking the stray darkness back into herself, throbbing slightly with a pale silvery aura for a few seconds.

Long story. Well, Seventeen could understand that completely.

"Also a long story," she replied, glad at the fact she had managed to rein her darkness in without too much of a problem. "And probably somewhat unbelievable."

"Is there anyone else nearby?" she asked, looking upwards at the morning sky. Lifting her palm towards the soft blue, several tendrils of white light shot upwards. It was a signal to Ayrian, whom she knew would be nearby. She was right. There was a squawk as the great, regal eagle circled once, down into view before shooting south like a rocket.

Grinning from ear to ear, she turned back the Darquewillow. "That's Ayrian. My friend."

"Do you want help getting those off?" The Furion pointed at the shackles.

She jumped as another burst into the trees.

"EEEEEP!" she squealed, taking several steps back as the trees howled around her, branches reaching out to shield her. Her red eyes flickered angrily, white hair rippling on an unseen breeze.

"Who is this?" she asked, barely her fanged teeth at the strange man.
 
Darquewillow smiled as Seventeen spoke. “Do you want help getting those off?” she asked. “Oh, please. These things are really starting to hurt my wrists.”


Darquewillow was shocked to see Raistlin, now normal looking, and Stephen walking towards her. “I am very sorry that I did not answer you, but... I did not want to see Raistlin like that, and I... Did not want to see the bodies.” She replied to Stephen's questions. This ended abruptly as Seventeen shouted and leaped back. “Who is this?” She asked, with her teeter bared at the sight of Stephen.


“Oh, this is Stephen, Stephen, this is Seventeen. Please, no need to worry.” Darquewillow said huridly.


Raistlin however, was very shocked to see another Furion. “I am Raistlin, formally known as Thirteen. How are you?” Raistlin asked cautiously. He never expected to see another Furion ever again, definitely not out here. It was too huge of a coincidence. Raistlin was very cautious.
 
Stephen reached into his jacket pocket as he heard the Female Furion suggest she removed the restraints "WOAH!!" Stephen shouted "My restraints, my key" Stephen announced as he slid the key into the restraint key hole and undid them "That better for you Darque" Stephen asked politely and he slotted both the key and his Restrains back in their respective positions.

Stephen then turned to face the Female furion "So, Seventeen you say?" Questioned Stephen before glancing over his shoulder "Newer model than you Raist" Stephen informed him smugly. "So, you got a normal name Figured out yet Seventeen?" Stephen asked with a smile, something that wouldn't have happened two days ago, he had really come far, in the past two days. Two days ago, he wouldn't have even thought about sparing the life of a Furion, as they were still Neristrian, but now a person he feels is a Friend is in fact a Furion.
 
Seventeen looked at the man with a suspicious glint in her eyes, a warning hiss emanating from her throat. He reminded her of those men back at the labs. She wasn't sure why, but there was something about him. Perhaps it had something to do with him calling the shackles his.

Seventeen addressed the other man first. The one who had formerly had a number. Did that mean he was the same as she? Her stance relaxed a little and she strode forwards, almost sniffing at him. He smelt of blood. That was curious. Taking a couple of steps back, she finally spoke.

"Raistlin..." she tested his name. "I'm... scared, to be honest."

She chewed her lip. Everything was so new... so strange. So alien.

"I'm... Xerian," she spoke quietly, to answer Stephen's question.

"This is all new to me. Yesterday... I escaped. I don't know where I'm going, where I am or what to do. They're going to be after me... I'm not normal... I have to do something but I can't remember ... I can't remember what they were preparing me for."

She kicked at the dirt. "I'm sorry. I should be moving on. I don't want to drag anyone else into this. And you..." she looked at Raistlin. "If they find me... they find you."
 
Stephen untaped his hand from the Barrel Grip of his assault rifle and flicked the gun upwards, keeping a hold of it, so the barrel landed on his left shoulder "Nothing wrong with a few Neristrian's chasing me, whats new" Stephen muttered smirking "A Mercenary like me always has someone trying to kill him" Stephen then added, his smirk shifting into a full blown smile almost as though he enjoyed people trying to kill him.

he then looked between Raistlin and this Xerian "wow, you two look alot a like, asides her femanine features an your oh so clear psychotic tendencies" Stephen announced to nobody in particular "Anyway, i Suggest the four of us head to the Strahl, we gotta get outta here before the Neristrian's send people to attempt to kick our asses for either blowing the crap outta one of their manor houses, or taking on another Furion, actually come to think of it, i will have taken on two neristrian's" Stephen paused for a moment "damn it" Stephen threw on the end of his sentance.
 
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