Hammer and Steel

I would've liked another one of the epic story-chapters that made it PotU quality, but good nonetheless.

A Mad King, Part 1:

Ultimatum



"Begone from my sight you worthless coward," Harrison snarled at his brother. "You have no place here in my city now, so begone with you. Maybe you can fall on your own sword and save the rest of us the trouble of dealing with you."

"Shut up Harrison," Nathanial said. Speaking out against his brother was dangerous; Nathanial had only half of the muscle, size, and brute force and could be ripped apart at any time. No one was here to protect him after all. Father was dead and now elder Harrison by rights took his seat as the ruler of Washington.

"You will do exactly as I say little brother otherwise you will earn yourself a swim in the river. Face down." Harrison stepped towards his brother, malice twisting up his face and his eyes a flaming glow of sheer hatred. "Father is no longer here to make sure that you are alright, and therefore if you want to continue breathing you will do exactly what I say, freak. As your rightful leader now, I have the command to do whatever I want, even to eliminate you."

Harrison was so close that Nathanial could smell his sour breath and see his own reflection in his brother's eyes; thin and pale, dark haired and clean shaven with golden eyes and threadbare clothing. Next to Harrison, Nathanial was insignificant in everything; looks, strength, power, courage, etc. The only advantage over his brother that he had was that he was smarter and faster than him, which wasn't much when Harrison could track you down wherever you were.

"I will not be insulted by your prescense any longer. For gods's sake, your even weaker than legendary Joshua was when he was your age, but he was good at something other than running away from combat! No wonder why our father died in shame, he could no longer handle the sight of having to look at his weakest son day after day after day! No wonder why the villagers think that our family has grown pathetic and worthless! You are the root of this all, the root of everything ill and every comedic insult we have taken since the day you were born!" Harrison turned away from his golden eyed brother to lament to the walls of the domicile. "Why could I not have recieved a better brother to rule with me, gods? Why? Why is that he is the only sibling that I have left?"

"I have a name you know," Nathanial spoke up timidly.

Harrison turned back around and punched him in the face so hard that blood began to pour into his mouth as he fell to the floor. Nathanial didn't make a sound, holding his cheek with one hand and propping himself up with another arm as he struggled to stay up. His lungs had constricted and his breathing was ragged as he gulped as much air as his seemingly reed thin windpipe would allow.

"Do not speak to me when I am not speaking to you, do you hear me brother?! If you do not, I will gladly cut off your old ears and cut out new ones from your skull! Is that what you would prefer?"

"No brother," Nathanial said around his coughing. Blood and saliva were hacked up and mixed in his mouth as the coughing fit continued.

"Good. Now that we are at an agreement, we have to discuss what you are going to do."

"You mean I can not stay here brother?"

"Worthless fool, did you not here anything I said to you just now? You will not be staying here, and you most certainly will not be anywhere near my city!"

"But brother, this is my home too..."

"I don't care if it is or it is not, you will do as I say are you will be getting awfully shorter in a quicker amount of time."

Harrison had picked up one of the ancient dragonglass knives that had been in their family for as long as Zacharias at the very least and began to unsheath the knife, resheath it, and keep doing it in a tedious pattern, over and over again. The sound of it being drawn was like rough stone scratching at the inside of Nathanial's throat, making his heart quiver and shake.

"So tell me brother," Harrison said, eyes only on the knife's glossy black finish and the way the light reflected off of it. "You can't be a warrior, or a farmer, or a stonemason, or anything practical. What can you do?"

"...I...can run?"

"Well can you?"

"Yes brother..."

"Stop that irritating squeaking answer or I shall rip your tongue out of your mouth. Now, tell me what sort of task that we have involves running."

"Hunting?"

"Close. That would be a good one for you, but you've always had a weak stomach, never able to kill a thing." The knife was long and sharp, a dark weapon that could cut you as quick as you could blink. "I killed my first animal when I was four, strangling a pigeon. Father found me later attempting to eat the thing whole, and I still remember that smack. You on the other hand couldn't bring yourself to kill a lame horse even if you tried."

That was true; Nathanial had been six at the time and his father had asked him to kill a pony that had gone lame in the foot after breaking it's leg. All the others had killed something, whether it be ponies or other domestic animals, or on hunts for the village. Nathanial couldn't bring himself to do it though, but that didn't stop Harrison from twisting it's head off and mounting it on a branch. Harrison still had the scar where their father had hit him across the face with a sharpened bone.

"Erm... what about becoming a priest?"

The knife slammed back down in it's sheath and stayed their for a second as Harrison turned his pale eyes at his brother. "No." All he said was that word, but it was a final word on the matter.

Blood still trickled out of Nathanial's mouth as he grimanced. "Then what do you think brother?"

Silence reigned for several minutes as Harrison marveled at the knife, handling it with his thick fingers, gripping it and acting like there was a person in front of him to slash it with. Finally he said, "A scout."

"In the wildlands?"

"Than pray tell, where else do scouts roam?"

"But, but... the wildlands are a dangerous place, filled with monsters and beasts and uncivilized peoples...."

"Fool, do you believe every story that you are told? That is most certainly not the case, I will tell you that right now. The wildlands are indeed living up to their name, and if you want to become a scout, you will be a part of the Flock of Humphrey the Crow, and you will go where they go. I don't care what you do just as long as you are away from my sovreign birthright." The knife hissed as it slid into it's sheath and out again. "With any luck you will be clawed open by a lion and that will be the end of you."

Nathanial's eyes grew wide as he thought of that. A hideous prospect, and some scouts had come back with lion claw wounds across their stomach or face, the ones that were still living that is. The ones that weren't... were in pieces, every single one of them.

"Shut your bleeding mouth and think about that for a bit. You will have to make a decision, and that decision will have to be approved by me before you have leave to do whatevery you choose. After all, I am still your brother, and your guardian for the moment." Harrison set the knife down gingerly on the table and turned towards his brother. "Wash up for dinner now; half an hour till the food is set and if you are any later you won't be getting a single morsel out of here."

"Yes brother." Nathanial's reply was meek and small as he struggled to his feet and left the room occupied by the fell wraith of a brother.


The metallic taste of blood stuck to his mouth as he drank from the bucket pulled up from the nearby well. He spit it out, the water a deep crimson more than a maroon shade of color. Nathanial grimanced at that; the gash on the inside of his mouth pulsed with every beat of his heart and exploded with pain from time to time, but it was still not the worst that could have happened to him. He wasn't coughing up blood today, and that was the best thing about it.

He rinsed his mouth out several more times before looking out over the city that was now Harrison's. Smoke curled lazily out of brick and stone chimneys, the temple to the gods overlooking the banks of the river, the shouts of Dutch, Chinese, Vietemese, and Amerikans as they laughed and gambled, argued and discussed, traded and haggled, and much more all echoing out into the air. A few voices could be heard as well speaking in the tongue of the Egyptian people, as well as shouts from burly Russian men and whatnot. Nathanial sighed to himself; he knew that he would never be a part of any of that. Joshua had been avoided in his day, but the treatment that he recieved would have been a blessing compared to what Nathanial recieved. The scars across his face and circling around his eyes from that incident were evident to all, primarily the reason why he did not step out of the confines of his home very often. The old crones that worked at the vendors squinted and muttered to themselves in the queer tongues of old, and he knew what it was about too. It wasn't his fault for what had happened, but everyone else did not see it that way.

A crier took up residence outside of the walls of this house, crying out about new tomahawks and knives on sale. Exactly the sort of tools that the scouts of Amerika used... but Nathanial didn't want to think about that. Harisson was a hearty man, and would not keel over for much reason making Nathanial's claim for Washington if harm should befall his brother essentially null and void. Which meant that a slow, torturous life in the wildlands was just for him now. Barely seventeen years old, and he was going to be packed off by his brother to parts unknown.

In a fit of rage he picked up the bucket and hurled it into the well, the item clanking and smashing into the walls as it descended into the dark depths. Nathanial instantly regretted it. Blood pulsed out of the inner cheek wound, and it forced him to his knees in pain as he massaged the tender flesh. Joining the Flock didn't look like such a bad idea at this point... he'd be rid of Harrison at the least.

Longer update tomorrow, as well as the real legend of Caparin if you guys wish.

Now THAT's more like it! Looking forward to the longer update.

Nice!

A Mad King, Part 2

Exodus

"Eat up little brother," Harrison said around a mouthful of boiled corn. "It may be your last meal here you know."

Nathanial just didn't feel hungry, pushing his food around his plate and chasing it with the wooden fork. His stomach felt like it was filled with swarming flies, and a bit of bile would climb and ascend into the back of his throat every now and then. Elephent steak, mashed and boiled corn, peanuts, pears and peaches... all of it just did not arouse his appetite whatsoever. A chilled glass of water with chunks of ice floating in it sat off to the side of him, and it was still as full as when it had first been set down.

Harrison and Nathanial were the only people to eat in this hall; in ages past it had been the family of the lord of Washington along with the members of the high ranking classes of the city, from Amerikans to Chinese, Dutch and Vietemese, with some foreigners tossed in as well. The tradition had started to drop off when Nathanial's father had taken over, and had been extinguished when Harrison had become leader two weeks ago. Nathanial did prefer it over what it had been like before; Harrison's constant insults and pettiness had driven his brother to his own room to eat there in silence before turning into bed.

Harrison took the copper knife he was using and pulled a taper from where he was sitting towards the knife, allowing the dark brown blade to be warmed and heated by the object. "Eat or carve a rune into your skin. Your choice brother. I will not waste food here in my abode."

Nathanial picked up the fork and speared a slice of the elephent steak, the medium raw steak bleeding a bit as the fork gouged into it. He forced a slice of the meat into his throat, chewed a bit, then swallowed. It was decent enough, but he preferred extremely rare meat compared to Harrison's taste. Their father had taken the steaks and waved them lightly over the fire many times for little over a minute so that it was still rather bloody when Nathanial ate it. His father had laughed at that and patted his head, saying stuff about how many warriors ate bloody meat as well to work themselves into a frenzy before battle. Harrison though always had that look of disgust on his face whenever he saw his brother eating his meal like that, and enjoyed making japes about it.

"I hope that you have chosen what you are going to do little brother." Harrison chewed on some peaches and took a sip of water. "Scout, patroller, gatherer, you have to pick something."

"Not sure what to pick," Nathanial mumbled into his plate. "Maybe be a scout? The Flock is supposed to be a good sort of people."

"Yes, for murderers and thieves that is. The Flock is kept in line only by the descendents of the people who actually loved the the flock. Mayhaps you'll get stabbed when you open your mouth and say something to another person. Just make sure you do it when I turn a new year over; I would like your wrapped body on a day when I can show people your remains." Harrison chuckled to himself at that, consuming more peaches.

"They aren't that full of criminals. Only about a third of them or so."

"Makes no difference. THere are still criminals, and they are there because of things that they have done." Another sip of water before Harrison continued. "There was one man I remember, he was taken in fetters when I was seven years old. You were sick all that week so you didn't know about it, but the man had killed seven people by bashing their heads in then proceeded to rape three women, with the brains of two children on his hands. For that crime he had his tongue ripped out and the joints on his right hand removed, and was also castrated with a rusty sickle lit on fire." A cruel smile spread across Harrison's face. "You could here the man's screams across the entire city, and when he was brought out the people chucked rocks and stones at him, but he simply hissed at them with his missing tongue and his filed teeth. He's probably still in the Flock right now, one of the expendables.”

“Wonderful,” Nathanial said as he chewed on another slice of elephent steak. His thoughts were dark and hateful towards his brother though he did not show them on his face. That was a good way to earn a quick death, something that Nathanial was not looking forward too.

“But anyways little brother, I sincerely hope that you enjoy your scouting adventures. Who knows? Maybe you will enjoy them as you tramp through the entirety of the wildlands.”

“Yes brother,” Nathanial said meekly as he swallowed some peaches.


The following day was warm for such a cloudy one, the smell of rain on the wind as the leaves picked up and were tossed about by strong winds. Such a nice day, but Nathanial was busy packing his bags and preparing to leave the only home that he had known to join the Flock. The Flock... fallen a long ways from the initial honor that it had been to join and scout with the finest men of Amerika, but it was still a good thing to do. Scouts were liked and got to see new lands, even if they did run into barbarians and wild animals that could rip them apart. The other scouts were not afraid usually, and if they were, when they got back to Washington, they didn't show it.

Finishing packing the meager amount of possessions that he owned, Nathanial set it lightly on the bed and looked at the room. It was empty except for the bed, a table and some chairs, cabinents for clothing, and some tapers. So this is how I leave the only place that I have known for most of my life, empty and cold. Small wonder that this place is cool to me.

A servent appeared at the doorway, a gaunt woman with hollowed eyes named Mary. "Lord Nathanial?" She spoke in a tremulous voice with a high squeaky note in it which could make your skin crawl at times. "Lord Harrison has asked that you go to the market to pick up something for him."

"Did he specify what it was ma'am?"

"No sir, he just said to go by Master Varmar's. Varmar is supposed to have something important, and your brother told me to tell you to go as fast as you can and return just as quick."

"Tell him I'll be going in a few minutes." Why? So I can look at this room some more and marvel at everything that was ever truly going to be mine?

"Very well sir, I'll carry the message to your brother."

"Thank you Mary."

The second the servent was down the hall and out of sight, Nathanial gently put the pack by the door and opened the wooden thing, stepping out into the hallway. A cool draft went down it's smooth wooden paneled length, which mean that someone had the windows open. Outside, he could here the clash of stone on stone as well as shouts. Harrison was no doubt dueling with his friends and the men at arms stationed here in Washington.

He moved quickly, lightly on the balls of his feet down the hallway, down the steps and out the front door. The men who were dueling with his brother would be in the back with the sand pit where it soaked up the occasional bit of blood here and there. Nathanial slowed for few seconds and listened to the men shouting at each other along with his brother's savage cries of fury and bloodlust before moving on.

Outside of the house, people bustled about their lives and their daily business, some pausing to stare at Nathanial's golden eyes and the facial scars he had. It wasn't my fault that it happened! he wanted to cry out, but no one would care. They would just go along with what they had been told or remembered from that day.

Nathanial kept his head low, looking at the cobblestones as he hurried to the market. He could feel the eyes of countless people watching him as he moved, feel their eyes watching, watching, watching him, their gazes raking into him like the claws of lions. We know what you did, they seemed to say. Do not try to deny it.

Thankfully it was only a few minutes until he reached Master Varmar's place and stepped inside of the smoky shop. A hearth fire burned fierecly even though it was only early autumn as the Master himself worked away to create flint weapons and stone swords.

The Master was highly muscled and built, thick of body with broad shoulders and a large head with a hook nose, balding with most of his hair already gone. His frown shaped up into a sort-of snaggletooth grin-scowl as he saw the new visitor. "Well if it isn't Lord Nathanial come to see me at mine own shop! Welcome my lord!"

"You know you don't need to call me that Varmar." Still, it made Nathanial happy to hear that from this man. He was a friend of their family and a good man whose own family had crafted a variety of weapons of all shapes and sizes just for them and for others as well. "How have you been doing Varmar?"

"Good enough, good enough. Hear that you are off to go scouting." The man's face took on a neutral frowning sort of tone as he looked back at his work. "That's a dangerous profession my boy. Many men that go out there have a habit of not returning whatsoever."

"I know that Master, but it was that or worse cases of stuff. It was my brother's idea after all."

Varmar's face darkened at that. Harrison was not a kind person, and had made a show of force by beating up his son several times, and when Nathanial's brother had cut open a pregnant cat to see if she had kittens, Varmar and Nathanial's father beat him until he bled and several teeth loosened up before falling out. "His ideas are usually the sort that causes mayhem for others my lord."

"Be that as it may, I don't really have much of a choice in the matter. What else should I do? I'm not athletic, can't become a preist, and i'm not cut out for a lot of physical labor on the farms and the camps, so I've been booted off to the side while he takes the control of his rightful posession."

Varmar shook his head sadly from side to side. "If only your father were still alive," he lamented. "He was one of the best men we ever had."

"My father is dead and buried, so let us speak no more of him."

Varmar shrugged and picked up a linen wrapped package on a table, presenting it to Nathanial. "I suppose this is what your brother sent you here for. Tell him that I hope he falls on it and dies."

"You know I can't say that."

"Ah well, I always have had a dream where I wrap my hands around your brother's scrawny throat and squeeze till his windpipe collapses. Oh well. That's something that will never come true."

The package was obviously a sword, three and half feet or so long and weighing quite heavy in Nathanial's arms. "Thank you for this master, I shall send my brother your regards. Hope you have a good evening, ser."

"I am no ser, but I wish you good luck on your adventures Nathanial." Varmar smiled as Nathanial left the shop.


The Flock entered the city late at night, roaringly drunk and rowdy, bawdy and filthy mouthed. Jaskos Yaren rode at the head of the column of scouts decked out in furs and weapons and quilts with heavy packs mounted on their backs and their ponies. Yaren was said to never have tasted a drop of wine in his life, which made him the most able man to lead the Flock.

Before morn there were already two reports of brawls, one in a soup shop and one in an alehouse, along with three rapes and the draining of half the cities drink. The men payed for it in the morning though when Yaren ordered them to stand in the center of the city as the loudest war drum this side of the creation of the world pounded as loud as possible. It hurt Nathanial's head, and he could tell from the winces and the gritted teeth amongst the members of the Flock that it hurt them as well.

Nathanial shrugged and pulled the pack onto his back and closed his room door behind him, possibly the last time he would leave this room. Shouldering the baggage he walked down the hallway and into his life.

Hope you are enjoying! Caparin's tale has been moved to tomorrow unfortunately.

No problem. Still a good storyline.

Caparin's Tale in the Deep Roads, Part 1

The smell of death and sickness clung to everything in the room as Joshua coughed and hacked, a horrid sound that grated on the nerves and made the skin crawl. The priests had brought their leeches, but everyone of those hideous little parasites had died after touching Joshua's skin. Pus leaked out from scars and scabs over the leader's body as he wheezed feebly, dark red blood being coughed up from time to time. It was like sludge, almost completely black and large amounts of it were coming up and the masters did not know what to do with Joshua at this point. The anesthetic plants had only brought more pain, and a fever that caused water to hiss when it touched his skin was ill signs indeed. Joshua's eyes were clouded with pain, a milky gray color vastly different then his standard golden irises.

The storm crashed and clashed above the house as the leader wheezed in pain, begging for more water as the lightning flashed through the windows and thunder boomed like thunderous drums. Three people had been killed in the flooding as the Red River burst it's banks and enveloped the hunter's village, and two more had been struck by lightning and died. Ill events stacked upon each other in an orgy of death and evil. Caparin didn't know why it was happening.

Joshua coughed some more blood up as Caparin was in the next room, sitting in the chair with the other high ranking people of Washington as they waited for the news about Joshua's increase in health to appear, or more likely news of a further decline. The former was about as likely to happen as Caparin growing wings and starting to shite rainbows and gold.

He curled his fist again and again and again as he listened to the thunder boom above them as the fierce storm ravaged the city. It should have been late afternoon, but it was blacker than midnight outside, the people of the city boarded up inside of their houses and soup shops, bars and alehouses, mansions and temples, riding out the storm as the fist of the gods crackled above.

Several people were saying prayers to the gods, Amerikans, Chinese, Dutch, and Vietemese, all together in harmony. Old Nicholas, with his teeth nearly fallen out sat in a chair playing a game of stones with blind Jack, both of them doing it to take their minds off of everything else that was going on around them and whatnot. Zhan, the Chinese man who was the son of Qin sat off to the side taking a pile of stones and moving them against each other, clacking them softly. Others just sat there, talking quietly amongst themselves as if the gods would strike them down if they raised their voices to a normal level.

A master stepped out with a bowlfull of dead leeches, going over to the window and dumping them out into the maelstrom of wind and rain outside. He then turned back to all of the people gathered 'round in the room and looked at Caparin square in the face. "The leader wants to see you," he said simply.

Caparin cracked his knuckles and stood up, barely clearing five a half feet tall. Everyone else watched him as he moved back into the room containing Joshua and the other masters, cracking open the door and letting the sickly sweet smell out into the main room as he pushed his way in.

Joshua's milky eyes flicked towards the door as he wheezed continously, unseeing from the pain and the weakness that infected his body. "Masters, please leave us now. I would like to speak to my dear friend alone." The masters complied as their leader asked of them, packing up a few loose ends here and there, and leaving the room alone to Caparin and Joshua.

"Please take a seat Caparin," Joshua said with wheezing breaths. "Don't mind me, I'm just a little sick right now." The elder man cracked a smile; barely in his mid thirties he had a lined face and black hair covering the dome of his skull. "How are you doing my old friend?"

"Well enough Joshua sir. You aren't doing too well though."

"That indeed, but that is rather secondary at the present moment."

"Not to everyone else. You are are leader, and your son is barely three years old. He can not rule if you die, and there will be a power struggle here if you happen to pass away. You have to hang on Josh."

The other man continued to smile at Caparin, a sad, rueful smile as he coughed a bit more into a rag spotted brown and red with dried blood. "I know that old friend, but I can not really hold on much longer. I can feel this sickness sapping my strength as time goes on, and I cannot do a single thing about it. Holding on is almost impossible at this point. I don't fear death now my friend, only what comes for the people after I die."

The room seemed to grow colder and darker as Caparin leaned forward, the overpowering smell of sickness filling his nostrils. "What have you seen my friend?"

Joshua coughed and wheezed a bit more, gulping air into his body before he spoke again. "I have seen the fall of our people, rounded up and killed by those olive skinned people across the sea of tears and blood, the salt and bodies stacking up on the beaches. I have seen our people put to the sword and enslaved, tortured and beaten, raped and ruined. All if I die. We all walk our lives on a tightrope my friend, and I'm not sure if that's a better fate than if I live or not."

Caparin's skin crawled as he leaned back. "That's not a better fate friend. If I may ask, how have you seen this?"

Joshua smiled some more saying, "I'm like my grandfather in that regard. Like old Zach and any others before him. I can't explain it, I just have it."

"Josh... what is this sickness? Can your ability tell you that?"

"No my old friend, it just tells me what can heal it."

"What can heal you then?"

There was a pause that dragged on for almost a minute as the tempest howled and thrashed above in the heavens. "The Moonflower of Lysari, in the Halls of the Beasts. In the Deep Roads."

"No, there has to be another way."

"There is no other way my friend. I don't want to force you to go, only go if you wish. Like I've said, I don't fear death."

Caparin stood up, looming over his leader sprawled out on his bed. "I will go old friend, for you and the future of our people. I will not stop till I bring it back."


Caparin set out two days later as rain fell from the sky, leaving before dawn cracked open above the world. His pack was light and filled with a little food and essentials, fire starting tools with iron and flint, a tent, sleeping furs and whatnot, and other needed essentials. He'd need them all to get into the Deep Roads.

Days passed as he wondered through the grasslands and forests, lakes and streams passed as he hunted with his knife and a rudimentary sling and stones. He brought down many birds and deer, even a wild bear that didn't notice him as he brained it with a large rock and cut it's throat with a dragonglass dagger. He ate well that night, laying down by the fire and counting the stars in peace, thinking about Joshua back in Washington and Caparin's own family who he had seen off the night before he left Washington, the tears in the eyes of his wife and his children as he had shouldered his pack and left.

Two weeks he wondered about in the wildlands, moving here and there, going steadily northward like the legends told him to do, where the Deep Roads supposedly were. Weeks passed, stormy ones and sunny days, cloudy and overcast, languid days as they got steadily colder, snow falling and ice forming on waters as the streams and rivers changed as he carved farther, and farther, and farther, and farther north, further, and further, and further....

Until one day he reached it. The entrance into the Deep Roads; a three mile wide crater of black stone with a waterfall pouring into it. Here we go.

Just to be clear, Caparin's tale is the real one and will take a backseat to the Mad King storyline.

EDIT: chapter listings at the start of the thread if you want to see them.

Step, 32, mark. Coordinate Zeta 33, Nova 65. Target sighted in white vehicle moving towards compound.

Defenses?

Multiple surface to air missile batteries on top of the buildings, additional watchtowers and chainguns. Three walls of stone, mortared, surround the entire yard. Chainguns and high caliber rifles spotted on guards. Plethora of handheld rocket launchers scattered about. Mercenaries are from the Golden Brigade, obviously Franks.

Hmmm. Anything else that we happen to know about the structure?

Multi-storied, has a grand total maximum of nine floors high, estimated depth of three floors deep. Entire compound runs only on energy produced from solar and energy cells procured from a multitude of industrial companies. Seperate utilities as well, all water that is in the estate stays in the estate. Multiple choppers along with special domes that look like they can be rolled back and more vehicles are stationed around the entire compound. Large amounts of barracks and civil servents. If we go in there it will be a bloodbath the likes of which that has not been seen before.

Mayhaps we can send Oxford.

Resulting in a larger bodycount. Already estimates for the amount of casualties is about seven hundred, at the least. There is almost no way to enter the compound quietly or stealthily.

So it's a full frontal assualt?

Pretty much, unless you can get a Gorman tank in here. Double barreled and tough, you can't say Krupp doesn't make good weapons.

Understood. Go to the ridge next, thinking about putting the sniper up there.



Very chilly up here but plenty of cover. Your sniper would be almost two miles away from the entire estate, hypersonic rounds would be needed in something like this.

We know that, bringing cases filled to the brim with the bullets. Washington wants to spend quite a bit on it.

Understood. You will need a scope of high power to be able to see far. Thirty-three zoom on these binocs and I can barely make them out in this snowstorm.

Fair enough, we'll bring it along as well. Thermal or infrared imaging?

Thermal, and set it to dark coloring. If you turn it to white, you will not see a damn thing up here on this ridge.

Got it. Is there anyway that our team could get in if we were to come by chopper?

Not by chopper, HALO jump could be better but it's risky given the situation. Snowstorm would blow you off course to the ridge, or even worse into the barracks.

Whisper chopper? Washington finally finished off the design for the Murasaki variant.

Murasaki... maybe. To bad of conditions and you won't be able to do anything, plus you'll have to be up at least five thousand feet otherwise those choppers will be heard the second they get in range of this place. To good of conditions and you won't be able to decently get in without raising the alarm.

Understood. Can you pop down on the lower ridge and check out how they get into the compound?

Give me a few minutes here.



Alright, I'm down at the bottom. By the looks of it, they get in through a road guarded heavily by private security forces and private military contractors, as well as some mercenaries. It's a tough nut to crack here; you will not be able to broach this place without setting off a firefight.

Tcha, this just gets worse and worse. What about-?

Hold up for a sec.

*Snow crackles*

*Crackles some more*

*Electronic whirirng*

Target sighted, got codename Thunderfalcon right in front of me.

You do?! Do you have a weapon on you?

.45 semi automatic Dai-Ichii Jarosa type pistol, doesn't have nearly enough accuracy to hit him at this range.

A pity.

Indeed it is. Profile report said nothing about Thunderfalcon visiting the walls at this place so often...

Dunno why. Anyways, that's enough for now. You're clear to go Harmony.

Got it, packing up now.



Recording completed. Agent Harmony reporting back to Washington with clips of data. Agents Cambridge, Yulai, Delta, Epsilon, Nova, Theta, and Oxford will be dispatched once data is analyzed to deal with the target.

For the State.

Tycho, you keep amazing me

A Mad King, Part 3
Joining the Flock


Sprich zu mir sagte die Krähe zu mir, sag mir, sagte die Krähe zu mir?
Was halten Sie über das Meer von Tränen zu suchen?
Weißt du nicht, es gibt nichts, es für eine Person wie Sie?
Die Krähe krächzte mich an und lachte er laut.

Und so sagte ich zu der Rabe jetzt vor mir
"Ich versuche, bis in die entferntesten Länder und den Rand der Erde zu gehen,
Werde der Fuhruhr und herauszuarbeiten mein Schicksal. "
Also sagte ich zu der Rabe vor mir.

Die Krähe lachte mich, da er es den Flügeln flatterte
"Du sollst nichts finden über dein Meer von Tränen,
Für Ihre Mitarbeiter sind nicht dazu bestimmt, weiter als die anderen steigen. "
Sagte die Krähe auf mich, da es weg flog.




"Well hello there Nathanial!" Troika was the cheeriest of all of the Flock; a bold and tall man, tan of skin and dark of hair, he was easily the burliest, larger than Handsome Jack, the old man who had been one of Humphrey's most trusted scouts. A greatsword made out of stone was slung across his back, almost five feet long and made out of the toughest and sharpest rock that the Amerikans had. Brittleglass it was called, though it was tougher than anything else that the Amerikans could get their hands on. "Are you doing well my friend?"

"Well enough Jack."

"Well enough? You look half starved boy, and with those bags underneath your eyes it looks like you have not been getting a whole lot of sleep now have you?" Troika quaffed an entire tankard of ale, thunking the heavy wooden container on the table and slapping the wooden surface for more drink. "Some minor scarring too. I haven't been in this village for awhile now boy, so tell me. What happened to your face."

"Nothing much," Nathanial lied to the bigger man easily as he sipped on a cup of water. "Just a minor thing that happened to me. What about your cheek Troika?"

"Mountain lioness. Two of them. Oh boy were they fierce but I gave the es a slap with my hand and hugged the other! The first one had a broken neck, and the other and snapped spine, and we supped well that night and got some extra warmth to keep with me out in the wildlands." Troika gave a tooth grin at the woman that served him more ale and slapped her on the bum.

"Gods above, that gash goes from your neckline to your temple! Did you not bleed?"

"A bit," Troika admitted. "Stopped after... a few days or so? Hurt something fierce and I was woozy, but I rubbed salt into it till I passed out and kept trekking on!"

The sheer power in this man was astounding; withstanding a mountain lioness attack was not that good, especially in wintertime with claws that festered with disease... and to rub salt in the wound was a thing that caused Nathanial to shiver to himself. A normal man would have screamed till his throat filled with his own blood, but Troika was made out of stone it seemed. No wonder why his nickname was "The Mountain that Marches".

"So tell me Nathanial, whatever did happen to your face?"

"Minor scuffle, nothing more, nothing less."

"Oh really now?" Troika smiled his toothy grin at Nathanial, but quaffed more ale and thumped the table for more drink.

"But may I ask you a question Troika?"

"Sure Nathanial, ask me anything that you like."

"What is it like out in the wildlands?"

Troika thought to himself as the serving wench filled up his tankard with more ale. "It's definitely not a friendly place for people to live and make their living in. Scouting is a good thing to do but it gets horrid lonely out there. Nothing but wildmen and ravenous animals out there to keep us company... or to antagonize us. Mostly the latter rather than the former." He took a sip of his ale and continued on. "There are some... stranger things I should say out there in the wildlands."

A chill crept up Nathanial's spine but he kept it at bay. "Things like...?"

Troika drank some more and gazed at Nathanial with a blank set of piercing blue eyes. "Tunnels... not like the Deep Roads of legend but more along the lines of stony, deep ones that run in straight lines, north to south. They are like the inside of reeds, cylindrical and made entirely of stone with a gravelly floor. Dark as hell down there where the light doesn't shine through in cracks."

"So what, you travel down there?"

"Sure we do. Those tunnels pop out at nice places that we can identify from old accounts and maps. It's very easy to tell where we are, and they seem to be wherever we go. Oddest damned thing we ever found I'll tell you that, almost a mile down from the surface, I'll tell you that. Warren's taking to calling them snake lairs."

"Are they snake lairs?"

"Nope, not a single animal down there. Pools of water down there from time to time, and some light and plant growth. Once we found a fig tree growing out of a ruined part of the place, but other than that it's relatively dark and dank down there. Moist would be my word for it. We've lit quite a bit of torches down there and relight them or tend them whenever we get back."

"Creepy sounding place."

"I will not say no to that as that is a damned good way to describe it. But it's the fastest way to travel overland, and it's the easiest way as well. Not only that, but we can poke our heads out every mile or so by stony ascension steps and peer up at the sky. That's how we make our maps as well."

"I assume you are the one always down in the tunnels?"

"Oh hell no, you couldn't pay me the entire nation to go down there and stay there for as long as the commander does, gives me the creeps I'll tell you that. Not interested in going down there or staying down there, but you have to a lot. We go out onto the wildlands only to explore what we need to explore, and those tunnels we use only to travel from place to place."

"Great, just the thing I wanted to do, spend most of my life in a dank tunnel with no way out most of the time."

"Well it's not that bad..."

Nathanial gave him a pointed look, to which Troika responded to with "Well yeah I guess so.."

They were silent for a few minutes as they listened to the other scouts talk and chat, laughing and bickering, drinking and gambling, and accepting offers of a good evening from women of ill repute.

"So when do we leave Troika?"

"Two days from now, the commander is talking to your brother asking for more men."

"My brother is not the man others should be asking for favors from."

"Be that as it may, he's the only one save you of your family left, and the commander has to at least hope that he will be able to recieve more men to help us scout. We have three hundred scouts, and that's not nearly enough compared to what some of the old Flocks were like. The biggest one led by Humphrey was near one thousand people before most of them settled down and retired, or were killed off in the wildlands. Hell, we need more men." Troika had a grin that stretched from ear to ear now. "That way I can cheat more money out of them!" He slapped his belly and roared with laughter as Nathanial smiled and drank deeply of his cup of water.


"Get your packs together men," the commander shouted out into the barracks house. "We have to go soon! Last one up gets no eggs or hashbrowns!"

That roused all of them, though lithe little Nathanial was out the door first and collecting his toast, his corn, his eggs and hashbrowns, scrambled and boiled and warm respectively with a cup of goat's milk. Troika yawned and rubbed his own eyes sleepily as he dug ravenously into food fit for three entire men. Two others joined them at the table; bookish Zane and wisecracking Zach, twin brothers who were polar opposites of each other. Zane methodically ate into his food as Zach laughed and boasted of what he had said to the prostitutes last night.

"...and so I say to her 'I don't care if you have a little bastard, I've got three of my own! They are sly little boys, always hungry for more morsels, so I suppose I can spare some coin for how you helped them!'" Zane turned scarlet at that while Troika and Zach howled with laughter.

"Is this how it always is Zane?"

"Every. Single. Day. Of. My. Life. Yes." He stabbed some chicken meat as he said each word.

"Dear gods above," muttered Nathanial to himself as he emptied his cup.

Thank you for enjoying the story fellows, tomorrow we will be back with Cambridge and his band of merry murdering misfits as they perform another takedown!

Till then, enjoy.

PotU quality + Rapid Updates = Pure Awesomeness. Another great update.

MoreEpicThanYou said:

PotU quality + Rapid Updates = Pure Awesomeness. Another great update.

Click to expand...

Always happy to provide.

MoreEpicThanYou said:

PotU quality + Rapid Updates = Pure Awesomeness. Another great update.

Click to expand...

More people should know about this.

hoplitejoe said:

More people should know about this.

Click to expand...

Keep trying to bump it into the top of the forum listing and copied it down into sig, but it's hard. No central thread for stories like these; RFC stories but not one like this.
Thread views did increase by almost seven hundred last week for some odd reason...

Well, keep up with the updating and people are bound to find this!

I agree with what METY said.