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Aether Rilkan

Time to burn.

0 · 64 views · located in Pandorum

a character in “Gravemakers n' Gunslingers”, originally authored by Silverhaze, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Make it Bun Dem

Aether is a rather large young man. He stands around six and a half feet tall and weighs roughly 250 pounds. His face is somewhat unique to say the least. He can't grow facial hair and has heard the term, "baby face" from some people in his town. He has a few freckles dotting his face here and there, but the most interesting feature is probably the demonic symbol branded on his left cheek. It is the Mayan symbol for earth engulfed in flames, and it gives off a disturbing yellow glow. His skin is an oddly pale white and his eyes are an earthy green, but seem to flow with a red energy. He has numerous burn marks throughout his body. Any other scars he has are from various cuts and bites he has received from various blades and critters. His hair is a dark sandy blonde, falling just short of Aether's broad shoulders.

Special Skills!

Aether was given the ability to manipulate the earth and flames. This includes and is not limited to: sensing movement in the ground, hurling exploding balls off rock and/or fire, causing minor tremors in the earth, shaping things with rock. His ability to control the earth stops at stones and gems and such. Besides all of this, he has other skills he has learned and been taught over the years. He also has keen eyesight, quick reflexes, and great attention for detail. He was also trained in hand to hand combat and taught how to wield various melee weapons. He has only ever seen guns when he faced Jeff and his horde because Haester abhors guns and would not allow them.

Personality

Aether is what some might call slightly damaged goods. His mind is fully intact, but he was raised from infancy by a demon, training to eventually be Haester's most useful weapon. He was raised to be loyal and to take orders without question, so long as they come from his direct superior. He took some values from this, but he is nothing like Haester was wanting. He is loyal to those he thinks deserve his loyalty. He has recently decided to take orders from no one, unless he thinks them worthy to order him around. He is not the ruthless man, Haester wanted. Aether is actually rather soft and prefers not to kill unless he has to. However, he does love a good fight. The only time he would want to kill someone is if they are trying to kill him. However, there is always revenge. That is a good enough reason to kill as far as he is concerned. Overall, Aether has a good heart, and will most definitely get into trouble because of it in the future.

Unfortunately Aether has had no contact with the world outside his own community, so he is blind to the true horrors of the world.

Equipment

Aether has very little to tote around. He has the clothes on his back, a water skin made from the stomach of a rival demon of Haester's, a knapsack made from the hide of the same demon, a flask that with "Rilkan" on the front(it was his father's), and a few gems he managed to swipe from various places he went with Haester. He wears a once white thobe with a slit from the base up to a little below his groin to make from easier movement. Underneath, he wears a pair of grey baggy pants and a light pair of black leather boots. Over this all, he wear a tan cloak, the bottom of which is now tattered from extended use. He also wears a nice pair of goggles black goggles to protect his eyes from the environment.

Underneath all of this, he wears a light suit of what is basically scale male. He created it using magic. The plates that make up the scales are made of stone, but thanks to his gift, he condensed the stone to the point where it is a little stronger than steel.

History

Aether was born in a small town called Joken(pronounced yo-ken). Shortly after his birth, the town was raided by a rather powerful demon and those he had made his minions. Aether, being the only one young enough in town, is the only survivor. The demon's name was Haester. When the attackers returned home, Haester branded the boy and infused his body with powerful earth and fire magics. His followers cared from Aether until he was old enough to begin his training. As he became stronger and older, Haester realized the potential of the child. As Aether grew, he was given special treatment, but he had to perform various tasks to receive it. As long as he remained useful, he would be treated well. He grew up thinking his parents had been friends with the demon.

Around the time he was sixteen, Aether was offered the chance to become Haester's right hand man. By now, the demon had many many followers and actually had a town set up in a remote location in some mountains. There were enough resources in the area to sustain the town, so trade was not always necessary. Aether thought of refusing, but did not want to disappoint because with disappointment comes harsh punishment, and usually death. He had no real friends in the community, and so, he chose to accept. All he had to do was defeat Haester's current right hand man, Griz, in combat. Before being allowed to face him, however, he had to bring down one of the demon's rivals...alone.

Aether was given a sandskidder to ride to his destination and a guide to get him there, but the guide was not to assist Aether. A sandskidder is an animal that Haester created using magic to combine and alter various animals. They are large lizards with eight legs, and they require very little water to keep going. Despite their large size, they don't eat as much as you would think. They have a pretty nasty bite and can run across the wastes at surprising speeds. Anyway...where were we? Right! The demon slaying. The demon he was after was simply named Jeff. He was every bit as powerful as Haester and had made his own settlement. Aether was not informed of this and apparently, Jeff had been warned about him. Despite all of this, Aether managed to kill the demon. The fight was spectacular. Details may be disclosed upon request. Aether did not kill everyone. Only those who were a threat.

When he returned with Jeff's head, Haester was impressed. Haester would have had Griz face Aether in a fair fight, but Griz had other plans. As he spoke to the demon, he was smacked in the back by three arrows. The simply hit his armor and fell to the ground. Aether made quick work of his opponent and ascended to his new rank with pride. As a gift for his new position, Haester gave Aether a flask, telling him that his father had told Haester to give him it when he thought he accomplished something great.

Now, after three years, Aether has learned the truth of how he came to be in the care of Haester. And he plans to do something about it.

So begins...

Aether Rilkan's Story

Setting

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Aether shifted nervously atop his sandskidder, Alma. The wind had picked up as a dust storm started rolling in. Alma sneezed in reaction to the wind. Patting Alma's back, he looked to his left at Haester, his so called foster parent, his eyes burning with hatred. Aether had finally found the truth. His whole life, he had looked at this demon as a father. Then after three years of being his number one man, Aether discovers that Haester actually killed his parents. The demon glanced back at him and motioned with his hand to speed up. Their destination was some old city. They were to simply look for anything useful, whether it was old tech or some possible recruits. Aether found it strange that Haester decided to come along for this mission, but Aether wasn't complaining. This was his chance to kill the bastard.

Haester moved on ahead and out of sight as Aether sighed and placed his goggles over his eyes. As he tightened the grip his legs had on Alma, she began to run faster. As he caught back up to Haester, he loosened up and slowed down to his speed. The demon looked back at the young man and smirked as he began to speed up. Confused, Aether did the same. Eventually they were both moving at full speed. Aether wasn't sure what was going on, but he simply ignored it. Eventually the pair made it to the outskirts of the city. However, unlike most salvage missions, they didn't stop. Haester kept going.

When Haester finally slowed to a halt, the were surrounded by tall buildings. They were all barely intact as ruins should be. As Aether took in his surroundings, he saw a shadow shift in a window. In reaction, he conjured a flame in his right hand ready to throw. When he looked closer, he saw that it was just some old bit of cloth caught on something. Calming, the flame dissipated and he looked back to Haester who was dismounting. Aether did the same as he went back to surveying the area. Something felt off. He noticed all the building entrances in the area were blocked off. Aether began to wonder if the demon had somehow figured out what he planned to do. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought.

Aether began to approach his soon to be dead master. Then, something odd happened. Haester raised his hand, motioning for the man to stop. The wind began to slow down and the dust settled. The only sound to be heard was the breathing of the two. A sickening smile crept across Haester's face. Aether gulped in response, his eyes now displaying slight fear. The demon knew. Shaking his head, Aether regained his focus. No point in being scared now. Before the man could say anything, Haester began to speak. "So, you plan to kill me, do you, boy?" Aether merely stared, motionless. "I'll tell you what. I'll let you live. You'll be demoted and away from me. I don't want to lose such a powerful recruit as yourself. Besides, I have you both outmatched...and outnumbered."

Aether's eyes widened for a moment as archers stepped into the light in the windows. His focus immediately went into his magic. Stone spread up his face and over his hands and feet, leaving only his eyes, nostrils and mouth uncovered. He went to take a step forward and an arrow landed just at his feet. He looked to where it came from. "Don't do that again, or it'll be the last thing you do." His words were cold as ice. Looking back to Haester, he continued. "So, you've figured me out, have you, Haester? I'm just guessing that you had someone spying on me, correct? No need to respond to any of that. It's dreadfully obvious what the answers would be." Looking around him, he counted out twelve archers. Seven humans, four mutants, and a demon. He only recognized the demon. He was Salazar, Haester's newest apprentice. "I'm flattered. You really feel threatened by me, don't you, Haester?"

Haester began to laugh uncontrollably. Aether took another step forward and twelve arrows let loose. Some hit him and simply fell to the ground, other broke. When the demon had finished with his incessant laughing, he looked at the arrows now n the ground and shrugged. With a simple wave of his hand, all off his men jumped down to the ground, drawing maces. "You are no threat to me, boy. However, I will not tolerate plots to kill me. Besides, this is a test for my demonic friend here. The mutants as well. They have all proven to be capable and will be tested against you." His smile faded and he said simply, "Kill him." The first to make a move were two of the mutants, they charged in with their maces. They were too slow. Before they were even close to Aether, he pulled what he called a lavaburster from his sleeve and flung it. It landed between the two and they were both flew away from each other engulfed in flames and pelted with sharp rocks.

With a smirk, Aether bent down and pulled a greatsword from the ground. He formed it just in time for the third mutant to make a move. He hadn't expected what happened next. The mutant's mouth opened wide and a jet of acid flew and smacked Aether in the left shoulder. It began to eat away at his armor. As the mutant charged, he morphed his blade into a small shield on his left arm. His right hand went to his water skin. He opened it up, blocking a blow from the mutant's mace. Pushing his opponent away, he jumped back and poured water on the acid. Throwing the skin to the ground, he charged at the mutant shifting the mass of rock on his left so that it was evenly distributed between his hands. The armor on his left arm had thickened and a dagger formed in his right. The mutant brought his mace down with two hand onto Aether's arm as he thrust his dagger into the freaks throat. Acid began to pour from the wound rather than blood. Leaving the blade in the mutant's throat, he looked over at his next opponent as he redistributed his armor equally.

Salazar only watched Aether waiting for him to make a move. He had no idea what this demon was capable of, and so, he knew he had to be cautious. With a sigh, Aether bent down and drew another greatsword from the ground, asking, "You really want to do this?" He took a defensive stance. The demon said nothing and made no movements. With a shrug, Aether charged at his next victim and he ran him through, lifting him into the air and easily throwing him back down a few feet away on the ground.

Salazar simply stood right back up, smiling as his wound healed shut. "That's just wonderful," Aether scoffed. Salazar moved towards Aether, swinging his mace wildly, his attacks easily dodged. I'm obviously a more skilled fighter than him. I don't get this, he thought. A few swings and regenerated cuts later, Salazar landed a hit on Aether. The mace smashed into his chest, sending him flying. He crashed into a wall leaving a large dent in it before he bounced to the ground. Haester and his men began to laugh triumphantly.

Aether simply lay there for a moment, the air knocked out of him. With a deep breath, he slowly stood back up, his chest and back still hurting. The laughter ceased, and the humans' eyes grew wide. Three began to run. Before they could get very far, Haester stopped them, grabbing two and smashing their heads into the third. He dropped the bodies to the ground and turned back to watch the rest of the fight. Aether knew his chest armor had been broken through, and so he began to reform it. It won't be as hard as before, but it will do for now. "I see now," he said to get a little time. "I see why you want this guy. If you train him well enough, he could be almost as powerful as you, Haester. I see that he doesn't use magic. Strange for a demon." His patch work was finished, and so he simply stopped speaking and his blade erupted in flames as some of it deteriorated and fell to the ground as dust. He held his longsword in his right hand, leaving his left open. Salazar and Aether looked each other dead in the eye before charging. Aether deftly avoided his opponent's attack as he embedded his blade between the demon's shoulder and neck. He left the blade in and continued charging.

Salazar chuckled as he turned around and reached for the blade. As soon as his hand met the hilt, he burst into a cloud of blood and flames. "Regenerate that, bitch," was all Aether said before hurling two fireballs at the four remaining humans. "And now, it's just you and me, Haester. Looks like your new friend seems to have dispersed." Haester was obviously displeased by what he had just witnessed. Without a word, Haester lifted his left hand and a huge ball of flames erupted from it. Immediately, Aether punched the ground and a wall shot up to meet the fireball. It burst into pieces and Aether charged through the dust, dragging his right hand along the ground pulling a longsword from the ground. Haester was too slow to react and the blade clipped his mid section. Blood spilled onto the ground as another sandstorm rolled in. Apparently Haester was using it as cover before and now because moments later, it died down and Haester and his sandskidder were both gone.

Aether spun around looking in disbelief. Haester got away. "God damn it!" he shouted, his blade erupting in flames and growing larger. He hurled it at a wall where it promptly stuck and exploded. "I can't believe I let that son of a bitch get away! I can't believe he even knew! I just want to break something!" We began to pace back and forth, breathing heavily. With a primal roar aimed to the sky, he stopped and brought his fist down to the ground, pouring magical energy into the earth. The ground shook as Aether passed out from exerting too much energy. As he fell so did the buildings around him. His armor merely crumbled while dust filled the air of a few city blocks. Fortunately the building fell away from him and so he and Alma were safe. Despite all the excitement, Alma had stuck around. She made her way over to Aether's unconscious body, licked his face and laid down next to him.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Zackary Hannibal Kane Character Portrait: Aether Rilkan
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The sun was falling fast. The ominous glow of dusk settled in as Aether's eyes shot open. The first thing that came into view was Alma, curled up next to him. He forced a half smile, patting her side. She shot up defensively. Realizing it had only been him, the large lizard calmed and nudged him with her nose. Nodding, Aether slowly rose to his feet. About halfway up, he winced in pain, his hand shooting to his chest. "Must have some broken ribs," he chuckled. It didn't help with the pain. "Nothing I can do about it right now," he added as he stood the rest of the way up.

Looking around him, he realized how much damage he had just caused. "No wonder I passed out," he said in slight awe of himself. Something felt off to the young man. And he noticed that the glow beneath his eye didn't seem to be as bright as before. "Suppose I should start by working on some armor." He bent low, touching the ground with his hands. Bit's of earth slowly crept up his arms, beneath his thobe. Eventually his body was once again covered by stone armor. His head, hands and feet free. Before he could begin hardening it, he felt a sudden rush of fatigue and dropped to the ground. Alma jumped in response and nudged him once more.

Sighing, Aether came to a realization. "Haester must have been boosting my abilities. Now that I'm an enemy, he stopped." Clenching his fists, Aether rose back to his feet. "Suppose I'll have to improvise for a weapon...just in case." Using the stone that covered his arms and legs, he formed a short blade. Since he had already used this bit of stone before it took considerably less energy to reshape it. He gave the blade a few twirls in his right hand before returning his focus to his chest. The armor began to harden. A few moments later, he let up, not wanting to drain too much energy. It wasn't as hard as he would like and may only be good for stopping a light handgun at close range.

With a shrug, Aether whistled, motioning for Alma to start moving, but Aether almost immediately halted. He thought he felt the ground weakening, almost as if it were hollow beneath him. He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Stabbing his blade into the ground, he pulled up his knapsack, his left arm shooting inside to search for what little food he had. He stopped when his foot hit something. Looking down, he recognized his water skin. "Can't forget that," he said, reaching for it. Placing it in his bag, he retrieved a bit of sandskidder meat. It was only a couple days old, but he had salted it so that it would last just a little longer. Unwrapping it, he smiled. It was one of his favorite things to eat.

Aether devoured the chunk of meat quickly, feeling far better than before. His hand went back into his bag as he began to walk again. He pulled out a metal cigar case. Opening it, he retrieved a blunt cigar. Placing one end in his mouth, he returned the case to his bag and pulled out his flask. He stared at the name scrawled on the front. His family's name. His thoughts went to Haester. Dismissing his thought, he brought a finger to the tip of his cigar. A small flame appeared, igniting the end. He shook his hand as if he had a match or lighter. As he puffed his cigar, his hands opened the flask, and the smell of strong whiskey his Aether's nose. Smiling, he removed the cigar from his mouth and raised his drink. "To the future death of that bastard, Haester," he said with renewed vigor. Bringing his flask to his lips, he emptied it. Shaking his head he shouted, "Whoo! That's what I'm talkin' about!" Alma stood at his side, motionless the entire time, with quick glances here and there.

Placing the flask back in his bag, Aether threw it over his shoulder and took a drag his cigar. "Alright, Alma. Let's find us a town or something," He said as he began to walk again, pulling his sword from the earth. "Has to be one somewhere around here." Looking up, he spotted a tall building he may be able to use to look for one in the area. "There's our destination, girl." He patted his companion on her side and she bent down, so that Aether could hop aboard. Swinging his leg over the beast, he took another drag as she stood back up. "Let's go," he said lightly kicking her sides. She started at a bit of a trot. A few steps later, and the ground rumbled, bringing Alma to a complete stop. Aether kicked her sides again and she started moving a little faster than before. Almost immediately, the ground beneath her feet gave in.

Aether hit some solid surface. It hadn't been a long fall, but it was enough to hurt his already broken ribs, and so, he let out a cry of pain. "Fuck!" He shouted as the dust settled. He rose to his feet looking up at the hole. Alma lay on the ground a few feet away, covered in dust and some rocks. "That shockwave earlier must have weakened the ground. You would be able to get out of here, ya damn lizard. Can't say the same for me, though." Alma stood back up, shaking the dust off. Shaking his head, Aether continued, "Whatever. Let's try to find a way out of here, girl." To his left, Aether could see his blade, snapped in half. Picking the pieces up, he mended it without using to much energy. Once again the lizard bent down, and once again Aether mounted her.

Aether's cigar seemed to have landed beneath the rubble. "Great. Pretty sure that's a bad sign," he stated. With another kick, Alma began to walk. Once they were too far from the hole to get any light from it, Aether produced a flame in his right hand, using it as a torch. Looking around, he realized that they had fallen into the old sewer system. It had run dry after so many years without being used. The two went on for a while, finding it hard to keep an idea of time. It was most definitely dark by now.

Eventually, Aether began hearing strange sounds in the distance. Readying his blade Aether and Alma pressed on. The sounds only came every so often, a click here, or a chatter there. After a while, Aether could see starlight in the distance. At this point, he hopped off of his friend and took the lead, sword raised in his right hand. As he got closer, he allowed the flame to dissipate. As he got closer to the hole, he felt the familiar rush of light radiation hitting him. He had only experienced it once on a salvage mission with Haester when he was still young, but the feeling had stuck with him.

When Aether reached the edge, there were two things he took note of. One, he finally found a possible way out. And two, there was deep hole in front of him. Looking back up, he saw some sort of rope that went from the edge of the hole and descended into the darkness below. A moment later, the rope fell, startling Aether. Curiosity overcame him. Producing a head sized ball of flames, he tossed it into the abyss, allowing it to fall slowly, rather than at a normal rate. Some sounds were heard from below. A few clicks and some chitters here and there. As the light lowered, some figures came into view. Some grotesque humanoids could be seen. One form stood out. It looked like a large man. The mutant forms began to shift, seeming irritated. Quickly, Aether snuffed out the flame, hoping that he hadn't just pissed something off.

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Character Portrait: Zackary Hannibal Kane Character Portrait: Aether Rilkan
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#, as written by Seraph
Cain ran and leaped out towards the center of the depository, falling the remaining twenty or so feet down landing with 'thud' that sounded like a jackhammer strike. It was due to the immensity of the armor he bore, and wore around on a day-to-day basis. It was extremely heavy, most could even pick it up let alone wear it everyday like a t-shirt. Two-hundred pounds alone. That was not with all the added equipment attached to it, the guns, the ammunition and the supplies. This was a strong point for the people in Roram to contest that the "Albino" was in-fact a mutant living among them. This brought most disgust, but also a fear. But unlike the simple fear from a man with a gun--Cain provided an added threat. They didn't know what he could do, let alone prove without a doubt he was. But he never yet denied the allegations.

In fact, he was indeed a hybrid. But the mutations were constantly growing. The reason for his extraordinary strength, comparable to a silverback gorilla--enabling him to easily break, squeeze, tear off and move incredibly heavy objects. The cause of this mutation? The hyper condensed muscles in his arms and legs. Nearly four times as hard as a humans would be of a comparable growth. This meant that while he certainly didn't look any bigger or stronger--he was actually both. This highly dense bundle of musculature that has attached to an equally impressive hardened skeletal frame allowed him to be six times the strength of any normal, every day man.

This was a frightening concept to be sure. An entirely overpowering humanoid that could not only shoot a gun--but could literally crush a man's skull terrified the locales. The fact that he could see in the dark--although they were never truly aware of just how well-- it nevertheless, unnerved them to see his feats in complete darkness. Simply his acuity with the senses themselves; on several occasions mobs had tried to essentially ambush Caine, only to find that his animal-like tendencies and natural gifts made him very astute. He could smell them even though they didn't have a particularly pungent aroma--none that a normal human could smell. He also has surround sound hearing, meaning he can flex the small bones in his ears to accurately tune in to hear even a heart beating.

Even his mouth could relay things like temperature differences, sensing from both sides of the head and following trails based on chemical cues is called tropotaxis. His teeth's dentin and enamel had super hardened and even though they looked like a humans teeth s till, there were serrated ridges, like small steak knives even on his molars. This made flesh a prime target over anything else. Human. Animal. Mutant. Flesh was flesh to him. His jaw was unlike a humans as well. It was designed more like a Rottweilers, in the function that it could essentially "lock" into place. But this had a devastating effect to whatever he had a hold of in his mouth. Snapping his jaws shut, he had a bite force enough to snap the femur of a human leg.

He did have several drawbacks. One being a true albino, he could not endure the sunlight on his bare skin, it was why when he was younger he dwelt within the slums of shanty towns like Roram and lived inside the ruins like this city like a ghost. It provided much needed shelter from the sun's UV rays. While not nearly as potent as it formally was due to the nuclear winter from the fallout of the war--to him as an Albino, it was very similar to turning an arc welder loose on human flesh. The effects can speak for themselves. Large, painful blisters that can quickly go from some the size of a dime, to covering his whole backside in several cases that left disfiguring scars.

Another was his mutation itself. While being highly adaptive its progressive effects could be decisively seen all over his body. In the scars that littered it. He would begin to mutate secondary limbs or some other extra appendage and he simply, cut it off. Though make no mistake, he bled heavily, and the pain was excruciating. It was a source of severe contempt and disdain for Cain. Moreover, if he allowed it to progress past the initial stages of growth there was no telling what the effects would be. For Cain, it would feel like he would be lost in a conglomeration of grotesque, abhorrent mutations.

A ball of flame plummeted past him as he fell twenty to the tracks of the subway, once he had landed he slowly rose to an upright standing position. If not for his goggles, Cain would surely be wincing from the flames that were near by. His head drifted up to a ledge where--to his eyes-- he could make out a humanoid shaped figure standing there. When the winged creatures began to react--hissing at the focal point of light--the fire went out.

Magic users never equaled anything good. This one had alerted the guardians of the nest. These weren't winged creatures, but tall--perhaps seven or eight feet in height. They had two extra limbs, like arms but the didn't have hands on them. No, instead, these limbs ended in long, thick spikes that could perforate steel. Real welcoming guys they were. They were incredibly strong, even stronger than Cain was himself. They could scale walls very quickly using their double-jointed arms and defensive weaponry. Their talon-tipped feet, being heavily contaminated with fecal matter could cause severe sepsis.

But they did something that annoyed Cain. It was sort of a pet peeve. They spat. Their spitting irked him. However, it served a mechanical function. Anything that they digested, came up as a mucous web based mater that was sticky and viscous. It sickened him. He would kill them when he came across them, if for nothing else but because of what they did got under his skin. He stared out seemingly into a void, but he could see them crawling on all fours like beasts of burdening.

He waited for them to come. The residual shock-wave vibrating their 'webbing', the thick coat of mucous that encapsulated this dismal hole in the ground. He took off his XM8, un-slinging it from around his neck and shoulder. It would draw too much attention. He set it down slowly, in the the muck and grime. He would clean it later. Several times. But for now, for the task he had at hand he unsnapped his shotgun and withdrew it. His fingers, in an almost rehearsed manner indexed several--questionable shotgun rounds and cycled them into the slide while remaining on point with the stock pressed firmly against one shoulder.

The rounds he was loading into the barrel so effortlessly, were fléchettes. These dart-shaped tungsten carbide projectiles were thirty in number--per shotgun shell. While it had a charge to propel the projectiles forwards with extreme, the resulting firing would only create a very loud 'crack' and not result with a muzzle flash. The fléchettes themselves were denser than steel. They could punch through soft body armor with ease. They were banned in the past for being "inhumane". He stalked forwards, gripping the forearm of the shotgun while pinning the stock tightly against his shoulder.

Cain moved forwards, walking towards these terrors with a calm dispassion, his eyes looking straight ahead. The blood was pumping heavily through out his body. He was excited. He was exhilarated. He drew the forearm to, cocking the first round into the chamber. Inside of his chest, beneath layers of armored plating, beyond the taut muscle that clothed his skeletal frame--beat the heart of a true killer. A fearless machine with nerves of ice, and determination that was predictably stubborn.

The first in a grouping of three stood upright and threw its arms back, releasing a extraordinarily high-pitched scream that resonated through the chamber. Cain instantly lifted the 12 gauge rifle to point at the broadness of its chest. A perfect target. He squeezed the trigger. A loud 'pop' resounded but hardly any muzzle flash. In that instant, thirty tungsten carbide darts exploded from the barrel. The punctured, not only the monster in front of him, but the spread caught the second in the eye-less facade skull. The dart mangled the connective tissues of its brain. Bouncing around as a frangible like a pin ball, dropping it immediately, and the third in the leg. The chest shot to the first didn't kill it, but did substantial flesh and muscle tissue damage.

The creature lurched forwards with one of its defensive arms striking out, while it leaned forwards exerting pressure. Cain avoided the sharpened claw, side stepping and pivoting around, ducking under the extended arm cocking the rifle again dispelling the cartridge from the guns port and loading the next chambered round. But rather than expend another round of the frangible munition, he slung the rifle behind him and unlatched his tomahawk. The curved and deadly tempered steel bladed was honed. Gripping the axe handle he rushed the creature's face which snapped its jaws at him.

Saliva dripped from its open mouth as it bit at him trying to recover the limb it had embedded in the ground in its haste to quickly kill him. Using the backwards curving hook atop the axe head, pierced the fleshy underside of its jaw in between the bones and before the throat. It whined, and thrashed as it suddenly recognized the severity of the pain. Pressing a boot to the creature's chest, he had gotten an alarming amount of leverage. Gripping the single handed axe with both hands, he twisted and pulled the creature's jaw away from its own structurally sound mechanics. The flesh tore in a gruesome, barbaric display of which Cain was grinning psychotically as he felt the creatures blood flowing and with it--its heart beat.

The lower palette tore away from the remainder of the creature's countenance. The bones began to splinter and break apart. He could feel it in his hands. The power raging trough him. He was addicted to it. It was the truest drug, the only one he'd ever need. He tore the jaw off the axe although it barely needed any further tearing from the amount of devastation he had already caused. He roared himself, though not nearly as loud, it held its own sinister tone and was definitely not human. The blood had gotten to him, he felt himself slipping in a frenzy. That mind numbing belligerence. The sheer acts of violence that came afterwards when he gave into his indecent nature.

He mounted the hemorrhaging creature. If they experienced shock the way that humans had, it was definitely in it by now. But it wasn't enough for Cain. Something in him had broken loose. A primal aspect. A terrible aspect. Before he killed because it was needed. Now, now he killed because he simply wanted to. Again he lifted the axe and brought it down on the creature's skull. The bones splintered yet again, and yet again the flesh was sundered. He drove the axe into the creature's cranium, going deeper and deeper with his psychotic fit of rage until he was covered in blood, brains and shit.

The third was limping away when Cain took notice of the movement. He twisted and craned his head stepping down the carcass of the first guardian that had been literally minced. The axe in his hand still having gorged bits and chunks of flesh and pulp on it. It was dragging itself because the frangible had torn one of its tendons in its leg. He gripped the axe loosely as he stalked towards the beast and feasted on the confusion in its eyes. It was not human, it didn't comprehend what was going on. Its brain, panicked and it was in flight mode.However it was still dangerous. Nevertheless, Cain mocked it.

"Come on beasty, get to your fucking feet!" He called out to it, waving it towards himself with both hands. He was seething and drooling. Gore and violence had this effect on him.If something was ultra violent, it tapped into his hybrid genetics and brought fully to the surface. It made the world see who was and what he was very capable of doing. It was a side he had to keep under wraps at all times while in a settlement lest he massacre the town. He had done it a time or two when he was younger. Two of the border towns in other sectors seemingly...vanished. When really, he had taken every man, woman, and child and slaughtered them.

Everyone had their coping skills...