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08/25/2005 10:23 PM

The lonely train wound it's way through the desert, a gray and brown snake under the blistering noonday suns.

Zach was half-asleep in the commons, laying with his arms behind his head. Anyone who couldn't look close enough to see through the over-large sunglasses couldn't tell whether he was awake or not.

The commons, an area where those who couldn't buy a ticket to have a seat or room like him, were fairly full, people moving around and talking quietly. As with all crowds, inevitably peddlers appeared, the large guards not even bothering to search for contravand, waving them through silently.

Zach yawned and stretched, accidentally bumping into a large man sitting by him. The man turned to glare at him viciously. Due to the fact he was easily twice his own size and the large wicked-looking sword he carried, Zach decided it would be best if he found a new sleeping spot.

He shoved the bundle into his bag, standing up and brushing imaginary dirt off his clothes. Thanks to a life in the streets, he was careful to stay clean, and any gods that existed only knew what was on that floor.
The thief idly yawned, wandering among the people all sitting or laying on the floor, careful not to step on anyone, and joined the steady trickle of people eyeing the peddlers' wares.

After buying some bread from a large, intimidating middle-aged woman, he wandered along, eyeing the merchandise with scorn, especially the supposedly "magical" items. One stall that caught his eye was selling amulets for protection. He leaned over in the pretense of examing them and made sure the owner was still trying to wheedle a bald man into buying a larger amulet, and idly snagged one.

A few stalls down, he leaned against the metal walls of the train car and examined it. As he had suspected, nothing more then a so-called "moodstone" with a complicated looking rune carved into it. Zach pocketed the amulet, shaking his head at the fools gullible enough to buy it, and wandered along through the small "market".

08/26/2005 3:41 AM

Oh by the various Gods the common folk worshipped, but this train was slow. Stuck in the commons by dint of a lack of money, Edward Francis Montalier III looked around with his distated painted blatantly on his face. He hoped someone would take offence at his authoritarian bearing and his harsh insults to any who jostled him. If he could kill someone and claim self defence, he'd be able to take their money.

A big man bumped him and the small, wiry aristocrat turned and sneered at him. The man glowered, his hand on his sword, and Edward returned the gesture and beckoned him on with an insult:

"Watch where you're going, you filthy peasant dog!"

The man bristled and it looked for on tantilising moment as though he would attack, but several of the big man's friends turned him away, whispering that it wasn't worth bloodshed over a poor toff with an attitude problem. Edward very nearly pulled out his pistol and shot one of them on general principle, but he noticed one of the train's attendants moving towards the scene and decided it would be better to leave. His fortunes were bad enough without getting thrown off the train.

Life was hard, the aristocratic baby in him whined. His clothes had once been fashionable, but time, duels and a perpetual lack of funds had reduced them to little better than a beggar's rags. His mother and sister had started their little business in that filthy apartment again, so sparse had been his contributions. It wasn't that he couldn't get fights any more, it was just that the men who organised these things had stopped him betting on himself and the one's he killed nver had any money on them. Edward was no businessman, that much he knew. He was a duellist, a regal warrior of the high born, and he found there was little money to be had in that market at this time.

He needed a big score, something that would set him in good stead. He couldn't teach the blade any more, his classical style had eroded too far into street brawling, and he certainly wouldn't fit into any army or militia. Perhaps banditry or thievery, though if he descended into criminality his poor mother would die as the last of her noble honour fled. A thousand curses on that drunkard of a father, long since dead but not before squandering all their money. It was his fault Edward was forced to wander the cities of the continent, engaging in illegal street fights for money. So uncivilised. And it had been months since he'd drunk anything other than watery tavern wine.

He hadn't eaten for a while and he was hungry, but he had no money for food. His sword was his only means of supporting himself, and he couldn't even find a way to make that work.

Edward Montalier III slumped back against the wall next to a small man with some bread and closed his eyes, trying to shut out the offensive sights around him and mentally preparing himself to beg a stranger for a scrap of food. He had done it before, though every time it felt worse than a stab wound. And he certainly knew what they felt like.

08/29/2005 4:03 AM

Calcarn made his way through the crowded streets, his bow in plain view with his quiver hung casually over one shoulder. He was in a good mood, and right now he felt as though nothing could spoil his day- he had enough coin to sustain himself for a while and would not have to worry about sleeping on the streets tonight.

His last customer had being a minor nobleman- well-paying too, considering all Calcarn had done was escort him from Durbar to here. Of course, in times of war he would not have to worry about being hired- mercenaries were welcome in such times.

Someone pushed him in the crowd, and he nearly fell over into a puddle by a street stall selling various collectors objects. Calcarn took a deep breath and walked around the stall and into a back alley.

Garbage of all kinds cluttered this narrow lane, and the side of the buildings were streaked with grime. But at least it was quieter and he was out of the throng of people.

As he negotiated his way through the alleyway he found himself already longing to be travelling again, out in the open with the blazing sun and no crowds of fools to jolt and push him around.

A beggar in rags sat with his back against a wall, head down in abject misery. As he walked past, Calcarn dropped a few coins into the mans lap. He was not one to leave another unaided, not even people such as this.

As he turned right and into the main street he inwardly groaned- it was market day, and the mass of people and roar of voices was almost too much to bear. Feeling his high spirits of before evaporating, Calcarn pushed his way through the crowd. It was going to be a long day.

[Edited by perfect_darkness on Monday, August 29, 2005 4:07 AM]

08/29/2005 6:02 PM

Mark had been pacing around the commoner's coach the entire ride and covering his mouth. With a slight gag, he moved over to a corner and leaned against the wall. He hated trains and usually got motion sick from even riding a camel. With a violent lurch, he nearly lost his lunch on a seemingly sleeping man. With a grimace he looked at the fellow sitting beside him and shot a slightly embarrased smile at him.

After a few minutes, he pushed away from the wall and moved over towards one of the peddlers and eyed his wares critically. He ususally didn't buy anything on this trip but he needed to take his mind off of his quarelous innards.

"How much for that weird little pendant thingy?"

The merchant cocked an eye at Mark's shabby clothes and the haunted look about his eyes before shooting the price back at him. Mark nodded and deposited the required coinage before leaving, slipping the small chain into his belt.

With a thump, a man bumped into him and Mark felt a hand paw at his money bag. There was a slight click and a knife appeared infront of the pick-pocket's face.

"Drop it."

The two men turned away from each other and walked to opposite ends of the coach. When Mark reached his end, he slumped against the wall and groaned, closing his eyes. With a slight clack, he slid to the floor and hung his head. Damn trains. There was a quiet [i]sproing[/i] as Mark closed the harpy and slid it back into it's spring clip. After a few moments he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

08/30/2005 8:05 AM

Zach never failed to be impressed by the variety of people you could find on trains. From that snivelling vendor to a ragged-looking man who might have looked aristocratic if he hadn't looked so worn.

He was lost in these musings, and didn't notice the man holding an alarmingly large knife until he slid down beside him. The thief froze, relieved when he clicked the knife back into place. Zach noticed he held one of the pendants he'd seen earlier (in addition to looking a little sick...)

"You know," he said, pointing to the pendant
"Those are a rip-off."

08/30/2005 10:23 AM

Mark looked over at the person beside him. With a sardonic smile he slip the pendant into a pouch on his belt. Ha had a disturbing moment when he thought he was going to vomit on the stranger but the wave of nausea passed quickly.

"I needed to take my mind off certain, er, aspects of this ride."

The train passed over a small stretch of track that had been finely coated with sand and ratlled alarmingly. Mark's face turned noticeably greener. He stuck out his hand to the man, exposing the spring clip on his wrist.

"Mark Seiji, traveller."

08/30/2005 8:26 PM

Calcarn stood in the hustle and bustle of the city, heading towards the train station nearby. A ragged peasent bumped him and he felt his anger rising- could these fools not avoid jostling other people?

And then Calcarn decided that enough was enough- it was time to reveal who he really was, a being far superior than any of these petty humans. For he was Calcarn, the Darkest Of The Seven Evils, the Destroyer Of Light.

He raised his hand and a cloud of pure blackness raced across the sky, effortlessly blocking the rays of the midday sun. There were cries of primitive fear as the people percieved their doom was close at hand, and laughed at their sorrow and despair.

His eyes flared red, and an unholy fire consuming his being. With a single gesture the street of flat buildings exploded, shrapnel raining down on the terrified citizens. Calcarn laughed, a terrible sound that struck fear into the civilians around him.

He rose into the air, unleasing a stream of molten flame from his hands upon the city. Buldings caught on fire, and the people of the city fell beneath the fiery onslaught.

"Death!" He cried, his voice so laced with malice that it caused pain to those who heard it. Someone unleashed an arrow at him, but it burned up before it struck him. He could not be harmed, such was the Powers
Of Darkness in his posession.

Now these people would know true power, and he would show it to them. The world would soon come to an end.

[Edited by perfect_darkness on Tuesday, August 30, 2005 8:44 PM]

08/30/2005 10:29 PM

(Do not feel any need to take the above post into account, it's being worked with.)

Zach sidled away from the man a bit as he looked nauseous again. The thief didn't much fancy getting vomited on by some stranger.

"I needed to take my mind off certain, er, aspects of this ride."

Ah, so that would explain the sick-looking... Zach thought to himself.

Mark's face turned noticeably greener. He stuck out his hand to the man, exposing the spring clip on his wrist.

"Mark Seiji, traveller."

The man hoped he wasn't about to be vomited on, and shook his hand.

"Zach Graystone, unemployed. Where you headed for?"

08/30/2005 11:27 PM

Mark's eyebrows drew together as the train rattled. He shook his head and smiled ruefully.

"Next town over. I have to uh, 'liberate' something for my employer. Some gizmo or magic article or something. Whatever it is, I'm sure getting paid to get it. Although the people who have it are rumored to be kinda mean."

His face had seemed to go back to a normal color a little now that he was engaged in conversation. Suddenly his face broke out into a smile, exposing a row of startlingly white teeth.

"Your un-employed? If you care to make some money, I'd not object. In fact, anything other then the target article is yours at the sight."

The job he had coming up would be much easier with help, even though he'd probably have to split the wages, he didn't care.

08/31/2005 9:43 AM

"Next town over. I have to uh, 'liberate' something for my employer. Some gizmo or magic article or something. Whatever it is, I'm sure getting paid to get it. Although the people who have it are rumored to be kinda mean."

Zach's eyebrows rose. Hmm, this sounded like it had possibilities....

His face had seemed to go back to a normal color a little now that he was engaged in conversation. Suddenly his face broke out into a smile, exposing a row of startlingly white teeth.

"Your un-employed? If you care to make some money, I'd not object. In fact, anything other then the target article is yours at the sight."

Zach's eyes lit up behind his sunglasses, and he grinned.

"Would you believe it, I've had quite a bit of experience in the field of "liberating" items. Sounds like a decent job. You don't mind splitting the wages?"

08/31/2005 2:02 PM

Edward felt the coins drop into his lap, felt the stinging of his weary pride reflexively intesify, but his hunger was the greater pain. He shambled over to the food vendor and handed over the coins, wolfing down two full loaves with a little cheap ham and water. He felt mildly sick after that, so he decided that a walk and a perusal of the market might be in order.

His spirits slightly lifted, in the short term at least, Edward found his hands drifting over the cheap tack on sale and wondering how low his tastes had fallen that he even considered whether one of the earrings might make a fitting gift for his darling little sister, who at this very moment was probably on her back underneath some despicable ruffian to pay for her food. The thought brought a stab of anger to his heart, but no tears. Edward Francis Montalier did not cry - not because he thought it unmanly, and not because his father had beaten him every time he did as a child, but because he had cried himself dry years ago as he rotten in a holding cell for murdering a client who'd dared strike his mother.

The last of his family's favours had gotten him out of that jail. That was all they would ever recieve from their former friends in the aristocracy. From this point on, Edward was alone to make his way in a world which his father had so cruelly abandoned him to.

Bah! Enough of this. Edward turned about and very nearly slammed into two men. He couldn't help eavesdropping on their conversation, a perpetual habit of aristocrats who fed on gossip. A job proposal. Dangerous, and a man looking to recruit. Profitably, and the chance for a good killing. Edward considered for a moment how best to introduce himself, and then decided to go with what he knew. Arrogance and presumption went a long way, after all.

He barged in their midst, looking the recruiter in the eyes with his most winning smile (something akin to a vulture with white teeth) and spoke with his head held high:

"Excuse me, good sir, but I couldn't help overhearing you speak of dangerous work. Let me assure you, that work will be much less dangerous now that I'm here."

Turning slightly, he raised a single brow and continued:

"Edward Montalier III, gentleman swordsman, and just the man you require for any form of violent intervention."

God he hoped this worked. He desperately needed a good score.

08/31/2005 5:22 PM

[i]17437, 17448, 17439...[/i]

Suddenly, Wil came crashing down face first into the scalding desert sand. After he stood up and shook off, he turned to see what he had tripped on.

[i]Railroad tracks...? Well, as long as I follow them, I'll end up somewhere...[/i]

Wil had been walking for hours now. He had been counting his steps to keep his mind off of the heat and the pain in his arm. At first he had tried to take his gyrocopter back with him, but it was far too heavy to drag across the desert. He left it's mangled heap of metal remains behind him, and continued on without it.

Wil had been working night and day for 2 months now on his greatest invention yet: the gyrocopter. As he began this test flight, he darned his leather gloves and pilot jacket, and for the piece de resistance, strapped a pair of pilot goggles over his eyes. He climbed into his small craft, and started it up. The engine roared in anticipation. A bead of sweat formed on Wil's forhead as he pulled back the thruster. The craft rattled violently; hopefully it would not end like his other attempts. The most recent time, the entire engine had exploded. It had taken him two weeks just to repair it. After what seemed like an eternity, the gyrocopter started to lift off! This was the first time his gyrocopter had actually left the ground, save for the fatal catapult attempt.

Wil was extatic; his greatest invention had finally worked! After a few glorious seconds of accomplishment, he leaned out the window to look at the ground below. In a moment of sheer panic, he saw that his steering mechanism was lying discarded on the ground. In his haste, he had forgotten to put it back into the engine! Suddenly, the wind picked up and he was slammed into the floor of his tiny airborne vehicle as it shot off into the sky.

After about 15 minutes, the tiny copter slammed into the desert floor, catapulting Wil 15 feet away. As he flew, a piece of shrapnel had cut a pretty deep gash into his left shoulder. Another failed attempt.

So now, around 4 hours later, Wil was trudging through the desert, sweating, bleeding, and cursing. He had no idea how far he was from his home, or how far he was away from the nearest town. Luckily his arm has almost stopped bleeding. He had also found a railroad track to follow. Things were beginning to look up.

09/02/2005 11:10 PM

Mark nodded sarcastically.

"Yeah we'll split the wages."

He was about to ask more about this stranger when another person barged in. He could see the noble under the dirty clothing and shabby appearance. He listened to the man with a raised eyebrow and acctually laughed.

"You look about as dangerous as a horse fly. The people we're dealing with aren't pushovers or mercenaries. These are the kind of people kings fear to allow into their kingdoms and mayors fear to see in their streets. Killing machines, magic users, all out psychotics."

He was tempted to grab the man's arm and give him a light shock to bring him to his senses.

"But hell, if you wanna die, be my guest, makes it easier to kill them when they aren't looking. Mark Seiji."

He extended his hand to shake.

09/03/2005 4:41 AM

Edward smirked his noble smirk, the one that lifted his mouth at the left corner and carried the kind of superiority complex only one raised in a noble household could muster. This fool thought him a street tough, a bravo with an inflated opinion of himself. It was of little consequence to him. In fact, far from being insulted, Edward was pleased - the man was a poor judge of character, and hence easy to manipulate. Anyone with any street sense could have seen the dangerously calm sheen in the young Montalier's hard blue eyes.

He pulled back his tattered overcoat, revealing the fine wavelike basket hilt of his schiavona, the long double-edged sword he employed for his work and smiled at man who introduced himself as Mark Seiji before speaking.

"I can take care of myself, I assure you. I've dealt with many such men in my life."

Edward clasped the outstretched hand with his left hand, the one that wore the thick coarse leather glove with the sand weights sown into the edge and heel. His fencing glove, as he called it.

"And killing mages is always such profitable fun."

Edward smiled dangerously as he gripped Seiji's hand just a little too tightly for a little too long. The man would not underestimate Edward Francis Montalier III again if he had any talent for reading men.

09/03/2005 5:12 PM

"Yeah, we'll split the wages."

Zach grinned.
"It's a deal, then."

A man that he had noticed earlier, rather ragged looking, intervened.

"Edward Montalier III, gentleman swordsman, and just the man you require for any form of violent intervention."

The other man, Mark, did not appear to be pleased. Zach felt no need to comment, satisfying himself in scrutinizing the newcomer.

For all the man's appearance of being a fop, the thief knew a thing or two about those wealthy families that were the closest left to nobility. While they all had a superiority complex, this one appeared as though he might have enough experience to back up his claims.

"Zach Graystone. Nice to meet you."

09/05/2005 8:55 PM

Wil stopped. He could feel the ground beneath him shaking. Turning around, he could make out the wispy trail of steam from the incoming train. [i]Finally,[/i] he thought, sighing; [i]I can go home.[/i] He released his hand from his injured shoulder and began to wave. The train didn't slow down. Wil climbed on the tracks to make it easier for him to be seen, and began to wave again. Still, the train sped toward him. Frustrated, Wil began to wave both arms, despite his injured shoulder. The train kept coming. All of the jumping, screaming, and flailing seemed to have no affect on the train, which seemed to be speeding even faster than before. Wil's eyes widened as he realized the train was not going to stop. He turned to leave, but his foot was caught in the tracks, and he fell. The sound of the train grew from behind him. Wil scrambled, flipping on to his back. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to wrench his foot free. He looked back to the train, in desperation. His only hope was that someone would see him before he was flattened like a bug.

09/06/2005 3:58 PM

Shizuma stared out the window. How droll this was, he thought. He was sitting in a compartment by himself. Lately he had made a killer profit from some rich nobleman who wanted to see his dead wife again. Shizuma chuckled. To think that some people would pay such a hefty price just to see a dead relative was beyond him.

That and the fact that they trusted him enough to let him stay the night. Why by the time the nobleman had awoken, Shizuma was already on the train with an abundance of money from plundering the nobleman's greatest treasures. He was sure that the nobleman was now a poor beggar. Ah, so many arrogant and foolish nobleman... too little time.

Shizuma opened the window to get some fresh air and noticed a tiny figure far ahead of the train. With his sharp eyes, he noticed that it was a man. That man seemed to be trapped in the tracks. Shizuma chuckled some more. The man would surely die if he did not do something but, the question was... "Would I gain anything from helping this man?"

Shizuma pondered his thoughts for a mere moment before heading to the front of the train. He moved like water through rocks, dodging and passing those in his way. In a few moments he was in the engine room. "Stop the train." The conductor turned around in shock and hesitated. "I have no time to explain things to you."

Shizuma shoved the conductor out of the way and engaged the brakes. The train gave a sudden jerk and very slowly began to slow down. Shizuma looked out the side window. They were still traveling too fast, they would hit the man. "This man better have something worth of value to me or else this is just a waste of time."

Shizuma traced a few runes in the air and whispered a few ancient words. The ground ahead of the train shook and cracked. From the cracks, people emerged who had been dead for ages. They moved as one infront of the train and began to try to stop the train. The train started to slow down rapidly as body after body pushed against it. With the combined forces of the trains brakes and the dead that Shizuma summoned the train stopped a few feet from the man who was stuck in the tracks.

Shizuma looked at the man from the side window. "You owe me big time."

09/06/2005 7:17 PM

Shizuma traced a few runes in the air and whispered a few ancient words. The ground ahead of the train shook and cracked. From the cracks, people emerged who had been dead for ages. They moved as one infront of the train and began to try to stop the train. The train started to slow down rapidly as body after body pushed against it. With the combined forces of the trains brakes and the dead that Shizuma summoned the train stopped a few feet from the man who was stuck in the tracks.

Shizuma looked at the man from the side window. "You owe me big time."

Wil was visibly shaking. A train had nearly splattered him across the desert, he was suffering from blood loss and dehydration, and probably most concerning were the dead bodies that had just risen from the ground. Will suddenly snapped out of his shock just in time to turn and spill his few stomach contents. He had never before seen (or heard of) a necromancer; the stench of the dead alone was enough to take a grown man off his feet.

After he finished wretching, Wil turned to look at his savior.

"You... Dead people...?" Wil was still shaking and stuttering. He took a deep breath and tried again. "Those dead people, you got them to save me? You... saved my life...?"

Wil was still bewildered. He winced, and grabbed his left arm. He then stood up and walked to the train. He suddenly stopped, and looked at his feet. He was unstuck! He turned to where he was stuck, looked back at his feet, and sighed. Now he looked like an idiot. He looked back up to the necromancer.

"Oh, gosh, thank you! I'm so sorry for the trouble, Wil said as he rushed onto the train. "Wow, you saved my life! What can I ever do to repay you? Oh, gosh, how rude of me! My name's William Cornwallis, greatest inventor under the 2 suns!" Wil exclaimed, as he held out his hand to the stranger. "But you can call me Wil."

09/07/2005 10:03 PM

(Ah, please post in the OOC section first, and do not post without the Thread Master (me) giving permission. Please delete your post.)

09/08/2005 5:19 PM

Larthin and Dramos moved through the crowded car at the same pace, although in very different manners.

Larthin, being much smaller and more flexible than his beast of a brother, twists and bends his way through the throng of people, as if his lithe body was composed of smoke. Dramos, being much slower but much more imposing than his younger brother, simply walks straight to where he wants to go and the people around him press up against the walls, avoiding him without notice, as if a subconcious part of them does not want to encounter him in a negative mood.

Larthin, finally bored with picking the pockets of such easy prey clambers up the chain and plate armour of his brother and perches upon his shoulder, his own leather armour giving him a secure seat on Dramos' well cleaned metal shoulderguard. He leans and whispers into his brothers ear in his soft, light voice:

" Dram, if we don't get a real job soon, we'll have to enter those bladefights again, times are rough for anyone not of noble blood."

Dramos takes his time before replying, as he usually does, not as if he is not intelligent, just as if he was thinking before he speaks. When he does speak its in a low bass rumble, where if the person is not in the conversation could sound like distant thunder.

"My brother, we could see if any bounties are up, usually alot of money in bounties."

Larthin considers the prospect and decides.

"Okay, head to the board, lets see if any good hunts are up."

Dramos turns and walks towards the Posted bounties board, which rests on the wall of an economy class section of the train, dark and dank, the operator of the train obviously not worried about the safety of his non-noble passengers. Dramos adjusts his greataxe to avoid hurting other passengers, but he eventually reaches a comfortable stance, Larthin draws one of his dirks in anticipation, there are usually several violent people in the last couple of cars on the train, and while most are turned by Dramos size, there's no accounting for the mad.

They reach the board and Larthin immediatly notices a post for the capture and return of one Edward Francis Montalier III, the post does not say who set it but the return is to the police station in Darsoon, a Noble city three or four days journey west from this trains destination, the reward is substantial, Larthin points the sheet out to his brother and pulls it off the board.

As the brothers retrurn to their seats, two men meet a few cars up, and soon, a third interrupts them.

09/09/2005 1:53 AM

"Charmed," Edward replied to the young man, Zack Graystone as he released Seiji's hand. His haughty voice carried waves of sarcastic superiority, as it always did, though this was more affectation than anything else. Life on the streets had shattered much of the young Montalier's image of himself as somehow deserving of wealth. The aristocratic baby still lived within him and railed against the unfairness of a cruel world and their bastard father, but it was buried beneath layers of scar tissue and calluses. Edward was a violent creature, a hard-edged man without pity and more or less untroubled by conscience. A killer who'd use any weapon or dirty trick to defeat his enemies. Only rarely did he trouble over the murders he'd committed in the name of profit.

"If you'll excuse me, I have something to check. Please, do wait for me. I shall return shortly."

Risky, leaving them like this, but Edward had to see if those blasted wanted posters were still hanging around. If either of them saw them, well... Edward thought they might live too far on his side of the law to report him, but the bounty money might make them reconsider. Such a large amount of money for the Governor of Darsoon to put on his head. After all, he still had two other sons.

It had been a duel, after all, as fair a duel as Edward had ever fought. The young buck had challenged him in a bladefight and Edward had, after laying money on himself, sheathed his sword through the boy's heart after two minutes. Of course, the boy's retainers had tried to get to Edward and he'd been forced to flee without his money, shooting one of them in the chest as he made his escape. It wasn't good business at all, he decided, to kill someone without knowing if they had power or connections first. So here he was, broke, alone, desperate and hunted. He hoped he'd hidden his desperation well enough and made enough of an impression that the two thieves might just wait for him. But it was important to assess whether they knew of his bounty or not, if only to avoid a trap.

On his way back through the cars, Edward passed a strange sight - two men, brothers by their faces, seated together. That in itself wasn't bizarre, but their size was - one tiny, the other huge. Edward had never seen anyone that big before. The aristocrat in him looked at their armour and their boots and distained them as mercenary filth. The warrior in him sized them up and decided that if it came down to it he'd have to shoot the big one rather tha risk a straight fight. The pragmatist in him reminded the aristocrat that he too was 'mercenary filth' if he considered it properly. They were holding what looked like a reward poster, but he couldn't make out the picture.

When he reached the notice board, he found no trace of his own picture. There was a blank space, but nothing to show him. Then he remembered the two men and a pang of inexplicable fear rushed through his guts. Was it his picture they held? His bounty was larger than any of the others here. It was also dead or alive, which appealed to many hunters. Had they seen him as he passed? He hadn't made any effort to conceal himself. His appearance hadn't changed - he was still clean shorn with long black hair and blue eyes.

He had no reason to think that they were coming for him, but he did. He forced his breathing to slow, thinking about this rationally. Walk back past them. If they followed, shoot the big one in the face and hit the little one with a pepper packet before skewering him. His hands felt for his weapons, a little shaky but not too bad, found them and left them there. He composed himself and headed back up the train...

09/11/2005 10:44 AM

Larthin had just finished commiting the information on the wanted poster to memory when his brother began to stand up.

"Dramos, what is it?"

The large man looked down at his brother as if Larthin were a stundent, slow to catch onto a lesson.

"You spent so much time staring at that photo I'd have thought you'd notice, the tarnished noble, our mark, just moved past us towards the front of the train."

Larthin gathers himself in a hurry and climbs to his brothers shoulder.

"Perhaps we wont have to track this one down after all."

The brothers move quickly getting to the next car in time to see Edward leave into the car just ahead. The two pass through the crowd and open the door to the next car, the mark was sitting with two other men. larthin leans to whisper in his brothers ear.

"He might be working with the ones sitting next to him, I'll sneak around the other end of the car in case he bolts, when you see me by the door, call him out."

Larthin slips through the crowd and makes his way to to door, he turns around and faces his brother. Dramos booms out the same lines he's boomed out to hundreds of criminals over the years.

" Edward Francis Montalier, you are wanted for theivery, murder and many other violent crimes, you are to be returned to the Police of Darsoon and you will accompany me, by will or by force to be detained for trial."

Edward looked as if to make for the door, but then the train slammed to a halt, throwing all manner of debris to the front of the train and in the process unleashing chaos.

09/13/2005 3:27 PM

Shizuma looked at Will with a little distaste. To him, Will was but a petty traveler who's life wasn't worth a cent. "Yes I can control dead people and yes I saved your life." This man was already wearing Shizuma's nerves a little thin.

Yet, he payed more attention once he caught the words, "Greatest inventor under the 2 suns!" Shizuma shook Will's hand. "My name is Shizuma Narutaki. Please accompany me back to my compartment on the train." Shizuma turned and went back to his compartment.

Maybe William here will be useful afterall.

09/13/2005 5:11 PM

"My name is Shizuma Narutaki. Please accompany me back to my compartment on the train." Shizuma turned and went back to his compartment.

"Most obliged!" Wil looked back out one last time toward where he was stuck, sighed, and followed. As he walked, he studied the back of his savior. This Shuzuma character was certainly interesting. Powerful, no doubt. It would do Wil well to stay on his good side.

After walking in complete silence behind this daunting figure, Wil noticed how everyone was staring menacingly at him. [i]It must have something to do with me stopping the train...[/i] He avoided their gaze as best he could, but the hatred was almost tangible in the air. Wil gulped. "Wow, so [i]this[/i] is what a train looks like from the inside! Amazing!" Wil said, trying to make smalltalk. Normally he wasn't too great of a fighter, but in his condition now... Wil swallowed hard again, and grasped his injured shoulder. He was beginning to question whether this was a good idea...

09/14/2005 7:12 PM

Zach staggered, falling to the floor as the the train shuddered, then halted.
"What the hell??" He growled, trying to stand up.

The thief turned to Mark.
"Ya think the track's out or something?"

[Edited by Avenging_Angel on Wednesday, September 14, 2005 7:19 PM]

09/22/2005 3:50 PM

Larthin uses the distraction of the lurching train to dive into the mark and shove Edward into his large brothers waiting arms, which closed like saftey restraints around his arms and waist, holding The Noble fast against his chestpeice, As Larthin moved in to tie the hands and feet Edward Montalier III's most recent aquainences began to spring to action, rising from their seats.

Larthin looked at them appraisingly, sizing them up.
"We aren't going to have a problem are we?" he asked, half challengfing them to fight, half begging them for an easy return. He waited expectantly for a reply.

09/26/2005 5:07 PM

So, uh, where exactly are we going? Wil inquired of the man in front of him. He had been following silently for some time now. They had passed through many train compartments; at this point they had reached what looked to be the beginning of the commons. There were many people moving up and down the train; it became difficult for Wil to follow.

Hey! Hey! Wait for me!

Wil was scrambling down the train after his new companion when he was bumped hard from behind. He fell to the floor with a grunt, crying out as people began to trample him. When he finally got to his feet, he began to brush himself off. Something was missing!

Hey, my wallet is gone! Thief! Theres a thief on this train!

Wil looked around for help, but all he received were rolls of the eyes and looks of scorn. Wil checked himself again to see what he still had: not much. A screwdriver, some screws, and a few nuts and bolts in his pockets were all that he had left. And, of course, his lucky wrench. He could never forgive himself if he lost his lucky wrench. He clutched his leather jacket, put down his goggles, and began to push his way through the crowd toward where he saw Shizuma last.

As he entered the next compartment, he watched as someone was pushed violently into the arms of a huge, hulking man. He raised his goggles to get a better look. This 'someone' was about his age and height, and looked nearly as helpless as Wil. Still angry about being mugged himself, he put his goggles back on and made his way toward the conflict. He reached into his pocket and removed a rather large nut.

Hey ugly! Everyone in the train car turned toward him angrily. Finally, the behemoth turned his head. Taking aim, Wil threw the nut directly at the brutes face.

09/27/2005 1:16 PM

Shizuma turned to him. "To see the doctor on board of course. He is in one of the very back compartments, past the commons. You need that arm bandaged." Shizuma sped forward and then noticed that he had lost Wil.

Shizuma turned around and past Wil while he was on the ground. He then realized this and turned back. While doing so he noticed a thief grab Wil's wallet. Shizuma grabbed the thief by his throat and lifted him into the air easily. "Give it to me."

The thief gave Shizuma Wil's wallet with shaking hands. "Don't ever try to steal from that man again, you got me?" The thief nodded his head and then Shizuma slammed him into the ground and continued on walking.

Shizuma walked slowly to scan for Wil. Why do I even bother? He then saw Wil heading into another compartment and sped after him. Shizuma saw what seemed to be a struggle on bored the train.

Oh great, Wil's about to do something stupid. Well I guess this will be twice that I saved the poor man's life.

Shizuma stepped inside of the compartment as Wil threw the nut at an extremely large man. "Wil no!" Shizuma slipped through the other passengers within seconds and grabbed Wil. "Why did you do that? I have your wallet right here!" Shizuma hissed as he gave Wil his wallet back.

Shizuma stepped in front of Wil and faced the huge man. He placed both hands behind his back and whispered a few words. His finger nails grew longer and became as sharp as daggers. He hoped he wouldn't have to kill the poor brute but, if he had to he would.

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