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Upon arriving at the town, Riel knew instantly that something was wrong, like a buzzing in the air that held a deep foreboding. He frowned, but carried on none the less.

Careful little one.

The blonde nodded, making his way through the streets to where a crowd was gathered, curiosity rising within him. What on earth is going on?

Be ready! Another like us approaches little one, a powerful one, be on your guard.

Slim blonde brows furrowed as a large wolf-like creature began walking his way, seemingly weary, his bright blue eyes locked with the beast's as it passed, and he almost fell over from the overwhelming power emanating from it. What kind of person - spirit or not - had power like that?

Riel shook himself after the wolf had passed and made his way through the crowd, his lack of height making it easy to slip through. He approached an old man who seemed to be leading the assembled and was about to ask when another had already beaten him to it. Good, he wasn't fond on talking to strangers, so he'd just stand here and listen in.

Eavesdropping doesn't suit you Riel.

"Shush you..."

A crowd still gathered around the old man. Saga was pretty sure a lot of them were listening in; giving an ear or two for the conversation, maybe more, that should have been held between himself and the hunched figure in front. But to his dismay he was interrupted by what seemed to be his grandson. A man buried in what Saga referred to as brain food; stupid sounding, yes, but it proved a point. Of course this man looked nothing of a book worm.

“My my grandpa, what an interesting assembly you have here, mind telling me what´s this about?” His speech took place before Saga had even a chance to interrupt him from getting to the old man.

Saga says, "If you don't mind, I would like to converse with this man. You see, I come from the caves on the outskirts of this city. I have come for answers." His hands move to the words of his mouth. He says, "I am burdened. And this burden, I believe is because of this war, yet I know hardly of it. Please, just take time from this day to help a weary traveler."

Saga was not sure if the elder man would help him. In fact he wasn't quite sure his grandson would approve of him talking to his grandfather. For one, his clothes were quite...strange, and another thing was that the cave dwellers were known to do strange things. On another note, this storm seemed to be heading in their direction at impeccable speeds. This had to be taken care of quick, or not at all.

The old man rose a hand to silence the crowd.

"Now now, be patient. This is no longer the time or the place for this. I suggest that we all prepare ourselves for the storm."

The old man waved his hand behind him, and another man appeared. He, however, was much younger. He wore body armor, and appeared to be some sort of tactical officer or swat team member. In his hand, he held a large semi-automatic assault rifle.

"I'd like you and your men to see to it that anybody in the city is brought here before the storm. It's bound to be the worst storm we've had in years...Please, check the library. I sense something there. I have faith in your ability to return...in less than twenty minutes. But please, when you hear the sirens, you must get back here as quickly as you can. I will not lose you and your men at the sake of one innocent that traveled too far from saftey."

With that, the man made a gesture to everybody. It seemed that in the crowd, there were at least 8 people with the same armor and guns. The made their way over to an old millitary Jeep with a gatling gun in the back, and proceeded to ride off into the city.

" Now...as for you new comers. Please, your questions. One at a time."

"I have resurrected you."
"You have done nothing of the sort."
"You are to serve me now."
"I will do nothing."
"You will fight."
"No"
"I will bring stability to both of our worlds ... "




Inhaling deeply, the soldier pressed an eye to the scope of the M14 EBR. The modernized firearm felt clean in his hands as he trailed his target. Soon to be his prey.
"He is weak, Havok. Yet he will provide capabilities that I require. You are to kill him." The voice commanded, that low, booming voice rupturing through his mind as he felt his wrapped hand slowly move from the butt of the weapon onto the trigger assembly. He had been trailing this poor soul for days, weeks. Wounding him in a knife fight when he had made his first attempt at his life. The Arbiter was assured of his Spiritual Entity when he demonstrated it, nearly eviscerating Havok in a churning ball of light as he dug a knife into the young boys leg.
" ... He will die." He heard himself think. Speaking toward the Arbiter as his finger slid along the trigger.


Watching the poor straggler, clutching his leg; the shot would be from nearly eight hundred meters. Pushing the limit on the range of most weapons. Havok would compensate for the range by tilting the weapon upwards, watching the young boys head move slowly downward in his cross hairs as he limped through the field leading to a large, dense green belt.
"You are letting him escape ... " The voice grunted angrily. Havok's face still blank as he waited for the right chance to pull the trigger, and end his life.
"You pathetic worm! You are letting him escape! I demand you kill him now!" The anger was swelling with him, Havok was beginning to feel queasy. He soon developed tunnel vision, light beginning to fade from him.
"I shall kill him. Allow me time." Havok responded, speaking calmly as he slowly depressed his finger on the trigger.


The rifle kicked, a deep, loud crakow erupting from the M14 as a spent shell casing was ejected from the breech of the weapon. Havok's view of the boy changed little as he watched a bullet smash into the boy at the base of the skull, his body went rigid and contorted in a throw of minute pain as he collapsed onto the ground. The bloodied mist from his wound still hanging in the air as Havok settled.
"You are a soldier. And a soldier kills those who need to be killed."
"I was once a soldier."
"You will remain a soldier until you have fulfilled your objective. And your newest one is to fetch me that boy."


Moving upon the corpse, Havok held little remorse for the actions he had taken. Approaching the young man; he looked to be 27 years old, Havok let his M14 slide along his back. He could easily hear the hunger in the Arbiters voice as he spoke to him.
"He does not possess much ... But we must take whatever we can." He stopped mid-sentence, as if he was savoring the meal that was just placed in front of him. The process of "Repossession" was not hard to achieve at all, all that was required was a focal point to come in contact with the skin of a Wielder, and the assimilation would commence. Havok pulled his wrapped hand up towards his chest as he began to unravel the gauze. Looping the gauze backwards around his hand, he watched the tanned flesh emerge into the world. He was also greeted by the dark etchings that ran along his forearm and converged into a great hexagon on his palm. The Arbiter would groan happily as he watched the uncovered hand with a keen eye.

"We shall soon see what he possesses." Leaning downward, Havok's arm slithered to the mans neck. His hands slowly wrenching around the back of his neck. Feeling his fingers smear along the bloodied skin of his prey, Havok would initiate the process. A grunt escaping him as he felt the Arbiter channel himself through his arm, inevitably driving a himself out of Havok's body, and tethering the two together.
"This one ... is ... mediocre" The voice responded, Havok's mind suddenly clearing as the cloud that shrouded him was lifted. For once in a very long time, he had complete control of his thoughts. No longer were they constantly monitored by the Arbiter himself.
"He has given us little, but has taught us much." The Arbiter calmly withdrew himself back from the confines of the deceased mans spirit. Completing the assimilation, Havok would wince as he felt a twang of pain course up his arm and slash through his neck. He was greeted a a calming feeling of power wash over him, his hair standing on end for seconds.




Havok was brought from his thoughts as he heard a deep crackling upward in the sky. Looking in the direction, he could easily see the clouds. Large clumps of darkened mass hanging in the sky, their movement flowing and viscous. The Arbiter would witness the scene as well. Havok could easily sense the demons mood, his emotions ranging through Havok and coursing throughout his body as he looked upward toward the oncoming storm. A gust of wind brushing through and swaying the tall grass, easily covering the body that Havok stood above.
"Something wicked this way comes ... " The Arbiter moaned quietly, meant barely as a statement rather than a warning. The storm seemed enormous, massive.




Chapter One; A Whirlwind in The Thorn Trees

Impatience, of course, was something Saga did not know, yet he was growing within its grasp as the clouds ahead formed into raging disaster. They were eating away what was left of the light, cramping up as much space as they could; hanging there like obscured paint on an unfinished work of art. This was getting out of hand, thus resulting in Saga's impatience.

Saga, he says, "I am stricken with burden." He says, "You see, ever since birth I have felt a strange embodiment within the confines of my soul; my spirit. I believe this war is the result of that. If this be called war.
"I come from the caves in the outskirts."

Saga took a moment to look to the west of the city, the place buried by the ominous clouds. He sighed and returned his gaze to the powerful eyes of the old man.

"This," he says, "Is why I come to you. I ask for your guidance. I ask for acceptance among all. I am but a low outsider wishing to be forgiven of sins I have not yet done."

The young woman blinked sideways at the kami standing next to her, his soot-coloured eyes reflecting her bewilderment, and really, dismissal, of the matter of the strange wolf spirit. He no longer seemed like a threat, and that was all that mattered. There was no reason to fight then, and Kira was glad she hadn't just let him possess her. Though, she could sense more than a little bit of resentment coming in waves from Kage as he stared down at her, taking full advantage of the fact that his spiritual body was taller than her physical one. It pissed her off. He knew that.

The young woman scowled and stuck her tongue out, not caring how weird she looked, knowing that everyone present at the moment could probably see him. Blue eyes grazed across his figure for a moment; it always shocked her how bizarre and beautiful these spirits always seemed to look. He was shatteringly lovely, true, however, the tiny fangs, tapered ears, and the fierce, wild look about his face clearly sent a different message. If Kira had been his enemy, it would have bothered her. But fighting with him, it was a totally different matter.

She glanced up at the clouds again, remembering what the wolf had said. Times were coming, then, hard times, much harder than what the people oblivious to the spirit would know. She didn't say anything, but moved a bit closer to where the old man stood, Kage following close behind his small companion, making it clear that they intended to listen to whatever this man had to say, at least. At the moment, she had no questions, really

"This," he says, "Is why I come to you. I ask for your guidance. I ask for acceptance among all. I am but a low outsider wishing to be forgiven of sins I have not yet done."

The old man chuckled a bit before speaking.

"Certainly you have lived in a cave for your entire life. You're too young to be talking so seriously. You need to take life lightly. Learn from your mistakes. If you are sorry for mistakes you have made, all you must do is be sincere and ask for forgiveness.

As far as acceptance...you are accepted here. I cannot promise others will accept you in this world torn by war, but don't despair. If they wish to not meet somebody such as you, it is there loss."

The old man chuckled again.

"Work on enjoying life and don't regret making mistakes. Life will be so much easier for you."

The old man chuckled again.

"Work on enjoying life and don't regret making mistakes. Life will be so much easier for you."

Saga nodded, quite unsure why the old man laughed at him. He still had so many questions; so many thoughts whirring around, deep inside his mind . It wasn't a matter of having them all answered or not, but a simple asking of them would due. He says, "Kind sir," and begins whispering into his ear about the spirit within his body. And much to his surprise he explained, in short detail, the exact idea of his childhood and the embodiment.

Saga pulled away and stared at the crowd, hoping none heard his absurd story. (Or so he thought it was quite absurd.) He did not wish that this would get out to anyone, yet if it did he was prepared to fight off anybody or anything that would steal away his life. For Saga had many years to live. Many. And his face scrunched at the thought/idea of this. Such a long time awaited him. Such a long time.

Well, those were certainly wise words.

She had taken life very lightly as a teenager, resulting in a flighty and dependent nature. But then, Elissa had been a desperate, love-starved idiot. As for the solemn, strange speaking youth asking for forgiveness and guidance? ... an idiot as well (you can't avoid folly at that age), but less of one.

What sort of past had he had that drove him to seek acceptance in this muggy, meager town by the sea? Did Port Andrews have a special air to it? Maybe the people were more closely united or prosperous here than other fractured towns or cities, of places that used to be whole. It seemed no different from the other towns she had visited.

Nevertheless, when the youth pulled back, Elissa did not hesitate to step forward and ask the elderly man where she might find cover from the storm, in a nervous but passably respectful voice.

Lounging around, coming out a time later. Staring about for several moments before kneeling down. Yawning swiftly. Everyone seemed so, he couldn't place a word even to it. Growling slightly, shaking his fur covered head before sitting down, his head perked high at others. The Time Keeper yet to be found he whined a bit, but found himself brave once more. Facing the Storm if it where. Growling to himself even more as he sat up.

Everyone seemed so perky. To be honest, it was disgusting. Making his stomach turn at the thought of it.

Jace only smiled as he got interrupted and backed away a little to observe all from a good vantage point. He wasn´t really in such a hurry to talk to the old man. He only wanted knowledge and even observing proved to be a worthy source of it. Jace only observed the situation from a far and gathered ever more thoughts from the people. His goal was simple really, to know all. So Jace did as logic dictated, he only kept his calm, his distance and his eyes and ears and most of all mind, focused.

Havok awoke in the crisp fluff of a hay bale. In a barn, shaking his head, he mashed a hand across his mouth while he looked around the confines of the barn.
"A farmer found us outside of the city." The Arbiter said, speaking as soon as Havok had awoken and found himself in the confines of the barn. He awoke on a hay bale on the bottom floor of the barn.
"Where ... the hell are we?" Havok questioned, looking around as he clambered to his feet. The barnyard was rather bleak, a horse residing in a stall beside a deep water trough, a cow stuffed into it's own respective stall as numerous chickens and roosters clucked and walked about the barn.
"We are somewhere outside of a place named 'Port Andrew' ... " The Arbiter responded in a monotone, echoing voice. Havok quickly checked himself, patting his body down as he checked his supplies.
"That farmer took your weapons ... " He answered, Havok wrenching his hand around his wrist as he walked from the confines of the barn. His eyes flexing and his hands moving to cover them as the light greeted him.


"That storm. As if the Gods are angered." The Arbiter offered, his voice trailing as he directed his own attention to the large cloud-mass dwelling upon the skies. The mass itself looked extremely large, it bewildered Havok as he shifted his view to a man tilling a small field. The farmer looked back toward Haovk and waved a hand, a smile moving across his face. The man looked old, forties, fifties, yet he still looked powerful. Packed arms used for herding cattle and tilling fields and preparing everything that he and his family would need to survive.

"My son found you beside the road, you were unconscious." The farmer stated, a young, red-haired child running up beside his father as Havok sipped a glass of coffee across the table. The farmer nodded as Havok set his cup down atop the table.
"Thank you for taking me in." He said, gulping down a drink before speaking while the small child ran off and out of the house.
"So, you are a traveler?" The Farmer asked, running a hand along his rough face while moving the pot of coffee to fill Havok's cup. He gave a nod toward the mans question as he waved away the pot once his cup was full.
"Yes, I've been traveling this way for a while now. That thing in the sky had been following my path for a long time." He said, his eyes shifting to a non-existent object as he drowned his own words. He could sense the Arbiter himself shifting in his seat, he was getting impatient. He knew something that he was withholding from Havok. Something about that storm.
"Those clouds are large. They moved quickly." The Farmer said quietly.
"We must leave. Now. To this 'Port Andrews'" The Arbiter commanded, Havok following suite and quickly ending the conversation.






As Havok stepped away from the small farm, he send one final glance back before beginning down the road that would lead him to Port Andrews. The farmer said he would have to travel eight miles to get to the main colony that resided on the land itself.
"We will journey to this Port Andrews, and find our bearings there. Then we must prepare for another expedition." The Arbiter tallied, Havok only giving a nod to himself while moving down the road silently. He kept the M14 slung low over his back and a Magpul Masada gripped between his hands.