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Sören Ahlgren

Something of an exiled prince with nothing to lose but his life

0 · 1,399 views · located in The Snapa-verse

a character in “Nomad Clan”, originally authored by Soul_Alchemist, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

"The cold of the Dead flows through me."

ImageName: Sören Ahlgren
Sex:Male
Age:25

Physical Description: Sören stands six feet tall, short for his clan as most of the men, and some of the women, are close to seven feet in height. His build is muscular, though normally hidden from view, and descpite being from the northern lands his skin has a healthy tan. He sports unusually dark features for his clan, and his body, especially his arms and chest, are covered in scars. He keeps his hair about shoulder length, putting it into a braid most of the time, and there is normally a few days worth of stubble on his face.
Clothing: While in the north he would be wearing skins and furs, he now wears leather boots with loose cloth pants and a leather vest. Over all of this he wears a simple cloak made from thinly woven wool. On his head he sports the signature armor of his clan, an iron helm with the antlers of a stag fixed. Together with his cloak it looks as if he is part stag himself.
Height: 6'
Weight: Just under 200 pounds
Skin Colour: Fair naturally, but tanned now
Hair Colour: Dark brown, almost black
Eye Colour: Brown, with flecks of grey, like stones in winter hardened earth

Occupation: Like most of his clan, Sören is a hunter and tracker, but he is also a tradesman. He travels into the Qafar Dessert from his home in the Dead Forest, bringing with him supplies of wood, and sometimes animal parts, such as furs, fangs, horns.
History/Bio: Sören is the youngest of three heirs to the head of the Rotgevir clan. He is smaller than both his brothers, and while his mother favors him, his father does not. Knowing that he will not become leader, Sören decided to take up the title of a tradesman, traveling on his own south into the true deserts of Qafar with a few goods in a cart bulled by his mount and friend, Duneyrr, a massive white stag with silvery antlers. His father and brothers dispised him for taking up this trade, and he is sure that soon they will exile him from the clan, but he does not care. Before he left for this particular trip he consulted with a wise woman who told him that this would be his last trek south out of the Dead Forest, thought she would not say why.
Home Town: Kalterle
Native Clan: Rotgevir
Population: 800
Settlements: Kalterle, Friggal, Ostnel
Location: The Dead Forest, Qafar Desert
Description: The Rotgevir clan once called Alhara home several generations ago, and they were just one small part of a larger, more powerful clan. However, the head of the Rotgevir clan fought with the head of the larger clan, and when he lost he and his people were exiled. So they made their way closer to the Qafar Dessert proper and made a new home for themselves in the Dead Forest. Since then the clan has governed themselves in two parts; the clan leader and the elder council. The leader of the clan is always the head of the strongest, wisest family within the clan. The last three leaders have been from the Ahlgren family. The elder council is made up of the oldest members of the clan, who have seen all the years of triumph and hardship the clan has gone through. Together they make up two sides of the same coin. They may bicker over issues on occasion, but normally they end up agreeing on a solution, and if not the issue is simply dropped for the time being.

Personality: Sören is a quiet, soft-spoken man, another reason his father and brothers do not like him much. While he is a fine warrior among his people, he is slow to fight, and would rather not draw his weapon unless he is forced to do so. In that event, he will fight to the death. He was raised to believe it is an honor for a member of Clan Rotgevir to die in combat, and so he has no problem with losing his life, so long as it is not taken easily from him.
Fears and Desires: Although he will not admit it, the openness of the dessert proper frightens him. There is nothing on the horizon usually, and so he feels as though at any moment his foot might slip in the sand and he will slide off the edge of the world. What he desires, ultimately, it to create his own clan, one that would rival his native clan in glory and honor.

Equipment and Weapons: Sören carries three weapons with him. First is the stag helm, made of antler and iron, it can be deadly in close quarters and doubles as a bit of armor. Second, he carries a handaxe with a black iron blade that is both heavy and very sharp. Good for hacking away but balanced enough to be thrown effectively as well. Lastly, but most important, if the spear he carried. The haft is made of wood from the Dead Forest, ancient oak which is as hard as iron now, while the spearhead itself is made of bone, well, a fang. On his first hunt Sören took town a saber cat on his own, and his mother took one of the fangs and fashioned it into a spearhead. The other fang was made into a dagger, but Sören's eldest brother took it. Something else that makes the spear unique are the runes carved all along the half and head, which are a dull grey normally, but when activated glow a frosty blue. The runes are filled with crushed Taqa crystals, a unique type found only in Alhara, which can, when given some energy, produce a powerful aura of cold.

Sören has runes tattooed down both of his arms, which also look grey until he activates them. Using the natural electrical energy of the human body, he sparks the tiny shards of crystal embedded in his flesh, which activates the runes in his spear. Sören had this done by the same wise woman who warned that he would not return to the Dead Forest should he leave. The tattoos allow him to stay cool in the dessert, through when activated they cause frost to dance across his skin, which, if he keeps them activated long enough, will burn him, causing frostbite, meaning he could lose both arms someday. The runes on the spear itself cause it to cool down and form ice, which can make it sharper and potentially freeze any wound it creates. Of course it isn't that strong in the dessert proper.

He also carried a few basic supplies. A small tent, some cooking supplies, three waterskins, and a few other essentials. And of course Duneyrr accompanies him, though in the heat Sören rarely actually rides him, and if it came down to it the stag is smart enough to be able to find his way home should something happen.

Styles and Abilities: Sören was trained as a hunter, tracker, and warrior. he is good with close range combat, with or without weapons, and he has excellent aim with both his spear and handaxe. Though he does not like to fight, if he is pushed to his limits he can enter a blind rage that usually ends with something being dead.

So begins...

Sören Ahlgren's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Jaek
Dustin set his mug down in surprise. "A Rotgevir? Really?" He looked the man up and down. "Forgive me, but I never would have guessed." He nodded as he listened to the man named Soren speak of his reasons for travel. "The Bazaar is an excellent source of trade and culture, you're smart to come down here with such rare goods from the Dead Forest. And aye, those from Ariket aren't much for travel. The mountains themselves are desolate enough, to leave the safety of their settlements in order to trek the Sea of Sand is less than ideal to them. The Atzerii specifically, my people, live on the easternmost stretch of Ariket. My settlement, Kasselland, was attacked by raiders originating from the Sea of Sand. A party of some warriors, including myself, left to track them down. Now I find myself here."

He took another sip. "Hence the weapons. And you, my friend," he said turning to Xaverius. "You must have countless stories to tell. You should share a tale in our company some time, I can hardly imagine wandering about for most of my life." The Kassellander glanced at the Hellseherin with the hood and pink hair, thinking for a moment. "You're more than welcome to introduce yourself as well. My qualms are with your sellswords, not a Secret Keeper."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
Whisper gave Dustin a rye smile, "There is not much difference between the two." She leaned towards the man and offered some nuts that she had taken from her bag. "I am called Whisper. If you know what I am then you know I will not reveal more than that. For now." She cocked her head to the side, "Do you seek a Telling? I may know something about these raiders."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"I have plenty of tales to tell!" Xaverius began, still heavily drunk. "For starters, there was this one time, there I was, mindin' my own business, when suddenly I felt this sharp pain in my leg. So I look down and see something stickin' out my shoe, so I take it off and there was a snake in my boot! A whole live snake! Luckily it seemed to be one of the non-poisonous ones, otherwise I wouldn't be here tellin' you lot about it!" He gave a hearty laugh and took another deep swig from his mug, almost immediately ordering another one.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"And this is why I do not wear boots." Sören says before emptying his mug and setting it back on the counter. He thinks about ordering another drink, but it is still early, and he still has to set up his stall. So many things have happened this day, just in a few short hours, that it seems a week has passed. Trade in Dol-Duna has never been so lively for him. "The ice magic of my runes helps too, though."

"I suppose you could say that I am of Rotgevir, but just barely. And not for long." Sören says, looking out the window at a memory. "My father and I have differing views, and I've always taken more after my mother. That's why my heritage is not at first apparent."

Einar Ahlgren was a hard man, and stubborn. He believed that they clan would last forever following the old ways of war and sleeping gods. He saw no reason to trade with anyone south of Ariket. If the Dead Forest does not provide it for us, then we have no need of it! That's what Einar had told his son when Sören had declared that he planed to become a merchant. Only Sören's mother had been able to talk the clan leader into allowing this. She had encouraged her boy, as Sören was her only son, his brothers had come from another of Einar's wives who had passed on.

Sören shakes his head as he looks back to the group at hand. "One of the wise women of my village, the same one who etched these runes into my flesh, told me that I would never return to my homeland."

It was then that the doors of The Iron Bar were flung open and, oddly a gust of cold wind roared into the establishment from the streets outside. With this wind came a white stag, who was chewing on an apple, and looked rather irritated. Duneyrr made his way directly for Sören.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Uluru Character Portrait: Skullivan Character Portrait: Ka'Wa Jekund Character Portrait: Aisha 'Ai' Abdul'la Character Portrait: Musa Grazing Bull Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten
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#, as written by Nulix
The Wetlander Traitor stared at Aisha, wide-eyed at her proposition, and the hand she now offered him. But instead, of taking it, he slapped it - like some sort of high-five, before approaching the bars and standing over her. "In the Wetlands we don't... have your legends, we don't have the Change or whatever. I didn't even know much about it... until..." He swallowed, glancing up at Aisha - looking her in the eyes. "Until I found out it was real."

As Uluru walked away the stones as his feet began to rumble. A rotting apple shook off a stand and splattered onto his feet. Uluru grimaced, feeling the rotting apple juice seeping through his boats and trickling in between his toes. Skullivan grabbed hold of his wooden bars as they began to vibrate. "Oh no..." He whispered. "Oh no..."

***

In the Iron Bar the chairs began to vibrate, the glasses beginning to clatter. The bartender grabbed hold as a few bottles vibrated off his shelf and shattered on the earth-floor of the bar. "No! Do you know how valuable liquid is, how hard it is to get drink to Dol-Duna!" The bartender exclaimed as across the bar more drinks shattered off tables - but no one was listening. Instead people's eyes were to the windows, where the sunlight was blocked out.

***

Outside all eyes were off Skullivan's cage as above the rooftops a massive object covered the sky. Made of metal and machinery it was clear, but cleanly disguised in a way none in the Qafar had seen. Smooth black metal panels, glass windows, and a low-hum hung beneath a mile of armour-reinforced, triangular balloon. On the side, in thirty foot white letters were the words WETLANDER. This was their Leviathan Airship - and from the grounds of the bazaar, despite it flying only slightly above the rooftops, it was impossible to see the entire thing end to end.

The body of the black airship came to a halt atop the bazaar - the only sunlight coming in around it's gigantic form. It was nearly the length of Dol-Duna entirely. Suddenly dozens ladders flung down from all along the length of the airship, unravelling and hitting the ground. From the skies figures began to slide down toward the sandy town below. Black-uniformed soldiers, clean leather boots and gloves and helmets with silver design of a wave on them. On their backs massive rifles and swords with electrical static visible sparking off them. Once they hit the ground the soldiers would run to the sides of the bazaar, instantly blocking off entrance to the main-street.

From the centre of the airship a blast of air came out, a platform lowering from the belly of the beast. "Friends!" A loud, slightly smug voice called from the platform. In the centre was a man in a black uniform - though different from the soldiers that now surrounded the bar. Much more fanciful. The man had golden-brown hair combed back, squinting eyes, and a slightly smug smile. He had his hands behind his back as he descended. Two other figures stood behind him, but remained silent.

The platform reached the ground, at the entrance of the Iron Bar, where the terrified townsfolk backed away. The brown haired man stepped off the platform casually. "The Dol-Duna Summer Bazaar," He commented, stepping toward a stand and pulling a necklace of jewels off it. "Nice." He flicked it away, casually pulling a pistol out and swinging it around those present. "As you may have guessed we are from the Wetlands. I'm leading us into... your charming little desert. On behalf of our leaders," He began, looking around the bazaar. "And we are on the lookout for one man." One of the other's on the platform pulled out a small device, a red hologram of Skullivan's face lighting up on it.

"That man!" The man, seemingly the leader of the airship, spoke up. "Is a traitor. And a very dangerous criminal. And he's somewhere in your town, probably killing someone! I don't know!" The leader said, before turning away. "So, we are willing to offer fifty golden Wetland coins as reward for anyone who turns him in." On the platform behind him a chest of gold was opened - coins were worthless in the desert, each clan either trading or having their own system. But gold was gold, in any form.

The leader glanced back at the crowds. "We'll just keep our guards posted to make sure no one leaves until we get him. Sound fair?"

At the entrances the black Wetlander guards rose their electric rifles in unison, and by the cage where our heroes were camped out they would notice Skullivan vanished - the wooden bars that Sören had weakened now completely broken. The more watchful of the group may have noticed the tatters of his black uniform running off into an alley...

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"I have more stories for you guys!" He continued, taking a swig of his new mug. "Alright, so.... in my travels I've always had a bit o' a problem with clothes, can't really find any that fit, so I have to make my own, not too hard, just some cloth, string and a small pointy object and hey presto! But I'm losing track, so, during one of my many outings, I came across some pristine old wear garbs! I mean they were as if they hadn't been used ever! Found them in some sort of ruined building, has some sorta name on the front, but I couldn't read it. So seeing as these were some nice clothes, I decided to try some on." He took a pause to take another swig of alcohol. "I looked though and found the pieces of a nice snazzy outfit, some sorta suit I think. As soon as I tried putting it on I knew it wasn't my size, I had to really heave to get them on, and as soon as I get them on, I stretch a little and I suddenly hear "RIIIIIIIP!" I look to my side and see one 'o the leggin's on the pants had ripped! I go to take them off and suddenly the buttons on the shirt shot off like bullets for a gun!" He laughed, taking another swig of booze. "So after feelin' kinda embarrassed, I laid the torn up garb aside and put back on what you see me wearin' now." He took one last swig of his drink, ordering yet another.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Nulix
Suddenly the doors of the bar were punched open, splinters of wood flying into the air as a black-uniformed Wetland soldiers entered into unison. Gasps were heard followed by silence as the team of soldiers approached, casually smashing tables in and throwing drinks onto the ground. "Everyone on your feet," A helmeted Wetlander announced over the packed room. "We're looking for a criminal. A Wetland Traitor."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"Can't say I've heard of them, sorry lads, me and my buddies were just having a drink and tellin' stories." Xaverius responded to the soliders. "If ya want one help yourself!" He added in a cheery demeanor.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Uluru Character Portrait: Elise Seaver Character Portrait: Ka'Wa Jekund Character Portrait: Aisha 'Ai' Abdul'la Character Portrait: Musa Grazing Bull Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten
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#, as written by Nulix
The Wetland leader turned to Uluru - who had stepped forward from the crowd. "Sorry, who are you?" The leader questioned, glancing back at his soldiers. "Who is he?" The leader glanced at Uluru again before smiling. "You want the gold, cowboy, it's yours - for the man." The leader glanced up over the market, as several armoured characters in the crowd had pulled out their weapons and descended into shop entrances and side-streets - warriors and mercenaries attending the festival, obviously also on the hunt for Skullivan and the reward of gold. "Whoever brings him to us gets the prize. And we let your bizarre bazaar continue on."

The leader turned to Uluru before shooing him away with his pistol. "Go on. Fetch."

***

"Oh yeah, thanks," The soldier said, grabbing Rusten's drink and smashing it into the ground before kicking his table over, causing Xaverius and the other's he spoke to to raise. "WETLAND TRAITOR. HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?" The soldier yelled at Rusten as his comrades searched the bar. The barkeeper cried in the corner over his expensive drinks.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"Like I said before, no. Now please calm down, I'm drunk and tryin' to have some fun, okay?" He didn't take any real note to the drink being smashed, he was simply too drunk too drunk to really want a fight. "And my friends have been here with me for a few hours now, so they probably didn't see them either."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
Whisper jumped from her stool as the soldier kicked over the table. Her hand immediately dropped to the hilt of her dagger. Her eyes flit between the man that ruined a perfectly good bonding experience and Soren unsure on what he'd say. Before the soldier could retaliate further, Whisper stepped between the newcomer and the storyteller. This didn't seem to help though, as they were both much taller than her and could still stare each other down if they so chose. Either way she stood her ground.

"We know of no one by that name. Surely, you won't find him here." No one ever said Secret Keepers had to tell the truth. Besides, he wasn't paying and his large group of soldiers were making her antsy. Despite all the brawls that have gone down in the Iron Bar, it wasn't made with combat in mind.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"And hey, if I'd help, give us a basic description and we'll let you know if we see 'em." Xaverius added, still keeping his cool.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Jaek
Dustin had jumped to his feet out of instinct the instant the black-clad men had entered the bar demanding for the Wetland Traitor. Well, it seems our western friend wasn't lying about his countrymen coming for him... Xaverius was clearly too drunk to function in a situation like this. Soren still had yet to make a move and the Hellseherin Keeper put herself in between the Wetlander soldier and Xaverius. Brave girl, but stupid. All she had was likely a dinky little dagger too.

Dustin took a few steps forwards, his hands clasped behind his back in a relaxed manner, yet hovering by the twin daggers in their sheath on the small of his back. "Truly I tell you, we've not seen the man you are looking for. But as soon as we catch wind of this... Traitor, you'll be the first ones we tell, friend." Never did Dustin vel Iz'Raphel, First Sword of Kasselland, servant of the Shorn King ever think he'd have referred to a Wetlander as friend.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Nulix
The Wetland soldier rose an eyebrow under his helm at Dustin, before sighing. "Yeah, okay - thank you both for your cooperation." The man nodded, before raising a finger and swirling it in the air. The other soldiers in the room nodded. "Alright, move out, he's not here-"

"Wait!" A voice called. The soldier glanced back as the barkeeper stood, sweat on his forehead. "I saw him! Out the window at the Wetlander's cage!" The barkeeper's fat finger narrowed in on Sören, who stood in the middle of the group of adventurers. "They helped him they did! These are his friends! They know! They know!"

The soldier turned back, his eyes narrowing as his unit stretched out across the bar. "I'm going to need to ask you four to come with me," He said, aiming a finger at Sören, Whisper, and the duo Dustin & Rusten.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
Whisper shot a glare at the bartender. She hoped the next guy that came to rob the place burned it to the ground. Turning back to the lead soldier, she spoke calmly and slowly, "Don't listen to this man. He's upset about a little... commotion caused earlier." She then pointed at Dustin, "This one and I don't even get along enough to have a drink let alone to be friends." Motioning towards Duneyrr and Sören she claimed, "That one is simple. Doesn't speak to anyone but his horse."

It was a stretch, but it was the most she could do at the moment. "I'm a Secret Keeper of the Hellseher Clan. I cannot tell a lie." This was severely false, but most people that knew of keepers didn't know that. "Perhaps we can work out a deal where you let us go."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Skullivan Character Portrait: Bohdana Yātrī Character Portrait: Mirova Character Portrait: Elise Seaver Character Portrait: Aisha 'Ai' Abdul'la Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten
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#, as written by Nulix
The three woman landed into the tent only to find themselves in front of a flickering lantern, holes in brass letting light escape - a burning crystal visible beneath it. It glimmered off the thin red-tent walls gently, in the light revealing a golden glint woven into the fabrics. Incense burned around them, artifacts placed in bowls at the edges - some strange machines of gears and wires, completely alien in nature - some complex mechanism of civilizations long passed, elegant clockwork devices... and artifacts that looked mystical. Uneasy stone faces from adventures passed. Look around the tent it was clear this wasn't just another stand - this was a museum of adventure, with more hidden in each shadow.

There was something in the air, something in the incense, something sweet as sugar and strawberry in the scents. Something delicious. Something magical. Where were they?

"Something to trade...?" A whisp-like, eloquent voice spoke - it was breathy - low, but had a charm hidden away beneath it. The three young women turned as from the shadow's before them a figure seemed to emerge, as if from nothing. She had rich, grey hairs - woven back elaborately into a golden head-dress. A rich red-robe hung off her shoulders and bosom, her skin white as the sun with soft redness spread across it. And up from her eyes, they glinted a golden red - a sort of ethereal stare coming out from them as she looked over the three intruders. "If you want to the Nomad's word..." She raised a long finger to a donation bowl in front of the lantern, her nail's the colour of stars. The bowl was filled with valuables - gold, jewels. "...You must make a donation." The woman finished.

***

Outside the north-wall a man crawled into the sand, tattered black robes hanging off his body. "Oh god," Skullivan breathed, glancing back at the Leviathan airship that hung over the Dol-Duna. "They're all dead." Skullivan swallowed, before turning back and beginning to crawl up the dune...

***

Back in the Iron Bar the Wetlander officer looked at Whisper and sighed. "Fine... but we'll have to bring you to the ship."

The soldiers moved behind the foursome, magnetic handcuffs ready to go onto their wrists. "You tell us what you know, in honesty, and we'll leave you be."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"Now fellas..." Xaverius picked up a mug, walking over to a nearby large keg of ale. "How 'bout we just settle this over a pint? ....No? Alright, drinks on me!" He then slammed the mug into the built in tap on the ale barrel, breaking open a hole and spraying the main Wetland Solider in ale, slipping him up and knocking him to the floor, he then picks up a table and throws it at another solider, knocking them to the ground just as they draw their gun, finally he takes his weapon and throws it as hard as he can in the direction of the final solider, burying it into his chest. After the dust cleared he walked over to one of the guards, picking up their electro gun. "Huh... this could be useful..." He said to himself, looking the weapon over and testing the sights. The solider he hit with the chair then recovered and fired at Xaverius, singing his leg. "Gah! I was just healin' that!" He fired back at the solider, putting him down. He then walked over to the solider he hit with his bar and pulled the saw end out his chest, checking him down for any other valuables. "Ah... that's gonna sting for some time..." He patted the burn on his leg and sat down on a chair.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Jaek
Dustin kind of just watched as the wanderer Xaverius took out two of the Wetlanders for good single handed and sat down like the wound on his leg was next to nothing. He was beginning to be thankful he had accepted the hug rather than start something.

A small groan broke the silence of the short scuffle followed by scraping and movement as the one soldier covered in ale began to go for his weapon on the floor. vel Iz'Raphel quickly strode over to the man and kicked the gun away and out of his hands. A gloved hand grabbed the Wetlander by his black collar and yanked him up to his feet. The man was about average height, meaning both Dustin and Soren easily had several inches on the guy.

"You come into our lands and simply demand whatever you please at gunpoint? I don't think so," he sneered.

With a few quick movements the Kassellander slammed the man's face down onto the bar, delivered a few punches to the jaw, and lashed out a swift kick to the chest to cement the KO. "The Atzerii send their regards." He spat on the body and looked to the company he had found in the bar. "We should probably leave and find the one they're looking for. It seems that I'm going to have to eat my words."

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"Give me a bit an I'll join you, getting zapped in a leg you were previously bitten on isn't the most pleasant thing to experience." He gave his leg a rub and got up, walking over to Dustin. "I'll go with you I guess, not like I have anythin' better to do. By the way, is it okay if we stop of somewhere to eat? That fightin' worked up my appetite and I've got all this tech I can use to get food." Whilst Dustin had been dealing with the last Wetlander, Xaverius had taken one of their guns for himself and dismantled the other two, stuffing the components into his bag.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
Honestly, Whisper never expected to see the drunk giant move so quickly. Though she was thoroughly shocked to see the violence he was capable of, she was still impressed. Dustin's behavior was more on par with what she expected of him.

"We could have escaped en route you know? Or at least I could have." Picking up what seemed to be the last remaining mug of ale in the tavern, she chugged it. It was warm and half empty. With a sigh, she wiped her mouth and returned her hood over her head. "Now we are going to be hunted for murder. Lovely." Her salty attitude leaked into her voice, but one could hardly blame her.

After picking up one of the soldier's arms and dropping it back to the floor, she turned to Sören and pulled a fire starter from her pack. With a wicked grin, she warned, "I'm going to burn down the tavern. There will be less chance of them tracking us. It should buy us a short time to escape." This would be fun.