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Takao Eguchi

Mid-Level dig supervisor for Ten-Shi Zaibatsu's Site Nine

0 · 1,243 views · located in Iskjerne Bay

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by barney_fife

Description




Name: Takao Eguchi (江口孝雄)
Age: 31

---

Race: Human, Taiyou
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Birthday: Winter,
Birthplace: Minami-Shii, Sector Two, Niihama City, Niihama

Education: His Imperial Majesty Nobuo Takayama University, four year degree -Xenoarchaeology
Languages spoken: Taiyou (Native), Anquietas (Poor)
Occupation: Site Supervisor for Ten-Shi Zaibatsu's Site Nine dig.

So begins...

Takao Eguchi's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: Imperial Taiyou Army
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#, as written by Remæus
Fulgar Thornheim stepped back as Indisla unexpectedly reached out to grab Uhtred.

What in Thor's name...
he puzzled, wondering why the woman was attacking the man. This quest was already wearing thin on him, all sorts of things being out of order.

Head back to the docks, summon the rest of the men.
he commanded, with one of his fellow warriors grunting and turning to sprint back to carry out Fulgar's order.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: Imperial Taiyou Army
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#, as written by Sepokku
Uhtred exhales in mild surprise as he's hefted over Indisla's shoulder. "I like my women forward, but this is a bit much. Put me down, there is yet carnage to wreak." With a flick of his wrist, Uhtred signals his men to ready themselves and retrieve their armaments from the skiffs.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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It seemed, like clockwork that the settlement's defenses started to come to life, as Viking warriors slowly started to come forward to face the approaching party. They were outmatched, and outnumbered, and while this was a concern to the Legata, she had no intention of fighting them in any protracted battle. Rather she had already pre-determined her avenues of escape back to the cavern. The interlocking plates of her lorica armor shifted slightly with her subtle movements, she took her hand off the pommel of her blade, and moved over to the leather symbology gauntlet on her shield arm.

She muttered a brief incantation, and touched the symbol, casting a simple translation spell on herself to allow herself to percieve their words, and for them to hear her words in their own native tongue. She knew these warriors spoke a different language, and wasn't about to let that detract from this encounter.

She cast a brief gaze to her Vexillarius who kept both the banner of the Divine Argosian Empire of Man, and the olive branch raised high enough to be easily seen.

"Steady, hold your position." The Decanus ordered sternly, the ten-man formation of Praetorian guard did just that, forming a shield wall by standing closely as they stared off with the opposing Viking army.

"That must be their leader." The Decanus whispered to Livia as he spotted Ivar The Boneless approaching on chariot.

Livia nodded quietly, undoing the tight leather straps that fastened her arm to her large, rectangular scutum, which bore a proud golden bull emblazoned in poured gold on the front, with arrows, and thunderbolts coming out of it, on a brilliant scarlet background. This stood out against the muted, indigo background of the Praetorian Guard, and their silver bull motifs emblazoned in poured silver upon their shields, which appeared to be excellently crafted.

Each Argosian shield and sword was not made by hand, but precision manufactured by the many mega-corporations of the Taiyou Empire. Their swords were made from metals stronger than any Argosian forge could make, and honed to a razor's edge, each Argosian shield was deceptive, excellent against melee attacks, arrows, and even bullets, with their composite structure of enameled nanosteel skin, and Ultra-high-molecular-weight polyethylene backing with pre-impregnated aramid fibers. They were lightweight, and strong.

Moving away from the Decanus, Livia let her shield rest against his side.

The Argosian soldiers opened up, and Livia stepped forward, the first thing she did was remove her helmet, which was an intricately crafted gallic style helmet with silver, gold, and indigo plumage, which matched her heavy outfit that consisted of haevy long sleeved tunic, hide trousers, and a long sagum that billowed in the frigid wind.

With her helmet off, her auburn colored hair flowed down on her shoulders, fluttering in the wind as she watched Ivar with piercing blue eyes. She didn't step too far forward, instead she held her helmet under her right arm.

"Salve." Livia said, inclining her head respectfully. "I am Livia, first Legata of the Caesarian Legion, of the Argosian Empire. I bid you fair greetings, and good fortune." The Legata said, looking back up towards the Chariot. Her words translated by the spell into fluent words the Vikings could understand in their own native tongues.

"I beg your leave, and safe passage into your settlement so that I may retrieve one of our sisters who has fallen in battle, so that she may be returned to her people for an honorable burial, in accordance with their traditions."

"I humbly apologize for the intrusion, I did not expect this place to be inhabited." Livia added, keeping her gaze lowered as a sign of respect, and to display that she was not a threat.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Iskjerne Vikings Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless
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The tense moment was slowly beginning to fleet away, as each Argosian praetorian maintained his position with an almost precision like demeanor. None of them showed any expression, they were faceless legionaries that formed a cohesive contubernia. They moved only with orders from either Livia herself, or their Decanus.

Livia's eyes caught the cripple on the chariot, and like his, hers were a piercing blue, but they were more than that, they were the eyes of a woman who knew nothing but war, of a woman who had been fighting since she was a child, and she had the scars, hidden under the many layers of hide, armor, and fabric to prove it. She looked up to Ivar, her gaze meeting his.

Livia then directed her gaze over to Queen Lagertha, as she stepped forward before slowly getting on one knee before the Queen, it was an act of respect, out of deference to the sovereign of a foreign land. Inclining her head in a respectful bow, she returned to her feet. "I am Honored, Your Majesty." She returned Ivar's salute with one of her own, bringing her right hand into a fist, across her chest.

With one simple gesture, the Praetorians relaxed in unison, letting their shields move to their sides, they split up some, but remained in formation. The Decanus called out, and the Praetorians began to move forward, with purpose, but not so suddenly that they would spook anyone.

"These men are my Praetorian Guard, I hand selected them for their loyalty, and their prowess in combat, while we are guests of your settlement, they are at your disposal should you require their aid." Livia said, nodding back to the Praetorians. "And I assure you, once we have retrieved our fallen charge, we will vacate your settlement in peace, and with all due haste." The Legata replied, gesturing to one of the servants with two fingers, he nodded, and reached into one of the leather pouches belonging to the pack mule.

He produced a glass bottle from the pack mule, and with his head held low, he passed the bottle to Livia, and she uncorked the bottle, and took the first drink to show her new friends that the whatever it was, was not poison. Purple liquid dripped slightly from the corner of her mouth, as she wiped the edge of her mouth clean. She offered the bottle first to Lagertha, and then Bjorn and Ivar. If they took a drink, they would find it sweet, much like mead, but made from dark grapes rather than honey.

When Ivar rode up next to her, and introduced himself as she began to walk towards the Settlement, her Praetorians behind her, Livia offered him a soft smile. "Ivar the Boneless, you may call me Livia." Livia said, as she unfurled a small laminated map. Strange symbols adorned the edges of the map, and labeled notable regions of northern Ellaria. The map looked like a picture taken from high above.

There were red symbols that were unique, they highlighted a specific spot in the settlement, where Kayabuki had fallen.

"The city looks like it will be grand." The Legata commented. The confused looks on the Viking's faces with some of her words were not lost on her either, so she tried to explain to Ivar as he rode next to her.

"A Legatus is what you would call a war chief, or a General, I serve my Emperor, my King, in charge of his armies." Livia explained. "These men are my Praetorian Guard, skilled warriors who dedicate their lives to their king.

While they were walking, the Decanus caught up to them. "Domine, the air is frigid, and the ground frozen solid, it will take at least a day of digging to recover the body, depending on how deeply she is buried."

Livia nodded. "All the more opportunity to get to know our new friends?" She said to the Decanus, his feathered helmet fluttering in the frigid cold.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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When Livia returned to her feet, she was visibly confused at the reaction, she had been simply kneeling before a monarch, as a sign of respect, and deference. These barbarians certainly had some strange customs, and they served all the more to make the Legata uneasy. Although she did well not to show it.

She didn't react to Bjorn when he refused her drink, and spat on the ground. While she didn't openly react to it, she had made a mental note to watch Bjorn closely, it was a quiet mental note, and something that didn't visibly show on the Legata's face as they walked.

The Praetorians behind her walked with synchronized steps, their movements like one, their footfalls echoing through the entirety of the settlement.

Livia looked to the map as she walked with the group through the fortifications. Though she appeared interested in the map, her mind was sharp, and her eyes occasionally moved throughout the internal structure of the city's defenses. She was making mental notes of each, analyzing their construction, which siege engines would be required to defeat them. She didn't trust barbarians, especially after her contact with the barbarians on that ship, they fought savagely, but those that challenged her were put down like animals.

Livia's mind wandered a moment, to the acrid smell of gunpowder, and the raging calls of viking warriors, and the crack of muskets.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the Decanus, who reached over to touch the map. "I'm glad the Taiyou took the care to mark where the woman is buried." He said, glancing back at the servant, whom was rummaging through the mule, making sure the shovels, and pickaxes were ready for use. He checked their polymer handles, to make sure they weren't brittle in this cold, then he checked the shovels.

Livia looked up from the map The Praetorians stepped aside to allow the pack mule to overtake their formation, and cross the last bridge first, once they resumed their formation, they marched in step behind Livia, the great Hall up ahead. The Legata was anticipating a hot meal, and an even hotter bath after today, something to warm her bones, as she was unused to the cold. Argos was a fairly warm moon, where Livia had been raised warmer still. She furrowed her brow at the ice crystals forming in between the plates of her lorica armor. The cold was seeping through the heavy Paenula she had been wearing, so she pulled the fabric closer.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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As they moved through the gates, Livia continued to closely observe the defenses, and how the city was set up. She made a mental note of the positions of every man in the city, their weapons and equipment, and their general demeanor.

"We'll start digging tomorrow at first light." Livia commented, as she moved into the great mead hall, her eyes on the Decanus behind her.

Livia turned her attention to Lagertha, and offered a nod, before she turned to her Decanus. "Have the men unload the cart, stage the tools at the dig site, and bring in a sled to carry the body out. See to it the mule is kept warm at a stable or something, I don't want it to freeze to death out here in the cold."

The Decanus nodded, and turned back to relay the orders to his men, They would find a place, or be shown a place to store the mule cart, before they began to unload the tools to bring inside.

Once inside the mead hall, Livia smiled at the warmth, and she nodded to one of the Legionaries that came inside with her. She held her arms out to her side, and the Legionary began to undo the fasteners that secured her Paenula, pulling the plush, velvety red cloak off of the Legata, revealing her Lorica armor, which shimmered in the orange flame. The Lorica armor was worn over a heavy red, and white tunica, which extended down to the mid thigh, protected by armored strips of leather. Livia also had her sword, which was encased in a silver, gold imbued scabbard that bore ornate geometric designs. There was another strange weapon holstered on Livia's back. It was a flintlock pistol, with an engraved wooden handle with poured gold inlaid designs.

There was a dagger sheathed in Livia's left boot, and a second weapon holstered in her right boot. This weapon was even stranger in appearance from the weapon holstered at her back. Sheathed in a black kydex holster, the Seburo BoBson Centennial edition semi-automatic pistol was secured snugly in her boot.

The Legionary took her Paenula cloak, and began to delicately fold it up, as Livia took a step forward. She was somewhat lithe in build, but years of combat gave her a toned appearance that was evidenced in the muscles of her arms, and legs.

She dared not take a seat, or do anything else that might offend those before her. So she inclined her head.

"Such a magnificent hall, and warm too. Thank you for your hospitality." Livia said. "If it's not too much trouble, is there somewhere I can have my legionaries draw me a warm bath? I'm not used to the cold, here."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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Livia slowly lowered herself at the table with the other Vikings, her Decanus taking a position directly behind her. But something else was on the Legata's mind as she surveyed the demeanor of the inhabitants.

She looked to the food that was set out before her. Was it poisoned? Livia regarded the plates before her with narrowed eyes, before she reached for a piece of fowl, pulling some of the meat off of the bone, she passed it back to her Decanus, who took the meat from her hands, and placed it in his mouth, chewing on it thoughtfully.

He leaned forward, and whispered something in her ear, and at that moment, Livia took the food, and began to pile it onto her plate. Her trek across the vast gulf of space, and her journey here from the gateway left her, and her men famished, having subsisted on MRE's given to them by the Taiyou Military, along with their own pickled fish paste, and hard tack bread.

After finishing her portion of savory meat, Livia once again gestured for her Decanus' ear, where she quietly whispered.

"I do not trust these savages, send a messenger to Argos with all haste, deliver this to Admiral Lanius." She whispered in the Decanus' ear, while passing him a small rolled piece of paper from a leather pouch on her tunica. The small message indicated the current time, and date, and instructed Admiral Lanius to begin his operation if Livia did not contact the Taiyou in four days.

The Decanus slid the rolled piece of paper into his own armored leather pouch on his belt, and secured it to deliver to the messenger. He quietly remained at Livia's side as she politely ate her meal. She was civilized, and her mannerisms showed it. Her eyes seemed to watch the room though. Quietly, the Decanus passed the note to one of the Indigo robed Praetorians, who turned to leave the mead hall.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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The moment the Praetorian slipped out of the mead hall, while everyone seemed to be focused on their own revelry, Livia reached into her velvet red tunica, and slid it into a small cloth pocket that was fastened securely under her lorica armor. She grasped her slender fingers around something, and slowly she pulled it out. She held it up, and the other Vikings would see a unique piece of brass jewelry, almost like a pendant with a small silver chain that was fastened securely to the woman's steel armor strap, affixed to a small metal loop that was riveted into the armor segment.

Curiously, with her thumb, she flipped the pendant open, to reveal a white facing with numbers all around it, and small pointers that seemed to point towards different numbers. She put her thumb, and index finger around a small knob near the top chain, and began to twist, the strange piece making a winding sound with each twist of her fingers. Once she finished, the strange pendant made a soft, rhythmic, but rapid ticking sound, that was drowned out by the revelry of the mead hall.

She felt eyes on her, but she didn't react right away, rather she turned her attention over to Lagertha, and raised her own glass. She called out the word. "Bibe!" As she raised her own, taking a drink of the liquid inside. Livia returned her own respectful nod to Lagertha, the timepiece still held snugly in her hand, as her eyes moved back to the face of the timepiece that had been softly ticking away, mechanical gears powered by a tightly wound mainspring, it was fine Taiyou craftsmanship, a gift from Prime Minister Kayabuki during one of the many peace summits that Livia had attended in the past.

She stared at the brass timepiece, before she flipped the cover closed over the face, sliding it back into it's pouch as her steely eyes rose up to meet Ivar's.

Livia's own eyes narrowed suspiciously as she seemed to engage in a staring contest with Ivar, who would flinch first? Livia had multiple contingencies, which were upon contingencies, and contingencies. Twenty four hours was what she had given General Hama back at the gate, if she didn't contact him in twenty four hours, he was going to send a rescue party, and Livia knew that would further inflame an already tense situation. She had left an entire Evocati cohort back on Niihama, armed with some of the best equipment that Argosian denarii could buy.

---

Outside in the chilly air, the lone Praetorian rubbed his hands, trying to garner some warmth in the frigid bay. He took a quick survey of his surroundings, they had the gate shut, and the doors locked with bearskin warriors guarding it. The Praetorian guardsman grimaced, and then quietly shook his head. He opted to make no further disruption, and return to the mead hall.

He opened the door just wide enough to let himself in, and if unobstructed, would return to Livia's side, leaning forward to whisper quietly in her ear.

Livia didn't seem to react, rather she took a piece of venison from a nearby plate, before dismissing the Praetorian back to his post.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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#, as written by Sigurd
Sigurd Hring was dead.

He had been dead for two generations, yet his legacy had lived on long after he was gone. Sigurd had become One with Gaia, and had transcended the physical realm. He was more than just a man. To the native inhabitants, he was now a Titan, and to his viking descendants in Iskjerne Bay, he was now a god. He was the founder and first patriarch of the greatest viking settlement in the universe, the seed from which all the rest had blossomed. All he ever wanted was to live in peace, to create a free society, and help to cultivate the land which loved him so dearly. He had fought tooth and nail to establish a sanctuary where people would be treated equally, where they would have the freedom of religion, the freedom to change their social status and role in society, where they would have the opportunity to make a difference, rather than being slaves.

Sigurd Hring had a dream, and he had spent his entire life fighting for it, all the way up to the time of his death. Sigurd's son had a similar dream, a similar goal in mind. Ragnar was captured, or rather, had willingly turned himself in, for reasons unknown. Ragnar was not spared from torture and torment. He had been bound and chained, humiliated, prodded with spears and whips, his flesh burned and marked, his face disfigured, his body disgarded into a chamber of serpents, so that Ragnar's own sons could hardly recognize him. Oh how the little piggies would squeel when they heard how the old boar had suffered. Never before in history would Vikings be so wrathful and eager for revenge. Ragnar Lothbrok was a legend, and he still is to this very day, just like his father and their fathers before them.

But even Ragnar was not as great as his predecessor King Sigurd, the Ringtaker, the man who married Ragnar's mother. Sigurd Hring, slayer of dragons, giants and dwarfs alike, successor to his own uncle Harald Wartooth, whom he had battled honorably and killed at King Harald's own request. King Sigurd was a legend from the very beginning, a legend which grew over time as he defeated one rival after another, facing monsters and demons, and gods greater than himself, never once surrendering or bowing a knee.

Who wants to be King?

Sigurd Hring was sick of fighting. He wanted only to retire peacefully, to create a marvel for all the worlds to see. He was not so much interested in fame, as he was in glory. Sigurd did not care about riches, wealth, or great expansion. He had no intentions of building an empire, or creating a magnificent army. Sigurd was more interested in the black earth, and fertile soil. He planted a farm, and built a fortified ring around his kingdom where Vikings and pagans could coexist together and find sanctuary. Iskjerne Bay was to be a remote safe haven, far away from all the wars, violence, torture, rape, death and crucifixions that Sigurd Hring and his family had experienced for centuries. His intentions were great, and his dreams were greater, but his timing was off and his fate was fixed. It was only a matter of time before this undefeated rebel met his inevitable doom.

Emperor Shimizu of the Taiyou Empire was not a friend of the Norse kings. Sigurd Hring had a run-in with the Taiyou, and what started as a peaceful encounter soon was wrought with confusion and misunderstanding which escalated into violent warfare between them. The Taiyou Empire, and their fear-driven galactic technology. The greatest civilization that ever lived, heh. Sigurd Hring would put their reputation to the test. Never before in the history of the cosmos had a rebellion been so adamant and strong willed. Never before would such a tiny primitive civilization make such a dramatic impact. Sigurd's army not only fought the Taiyou back, off of their own land, but had dared to attack the Taiyou on their own soil, with enough success that King Sigurd would warrant a visit from the Taiyou Emperor himself.

It wasn't enough. King Sigurd slaughtered the Emperor's army, killed one his advising mages, and sent the emperor crawling home with broken legs and injuries. It was a defeat the Taiyou Empire simply could not allow to go public. They amassed a great space army, and would be hell-bent on taking revenge. Sigurd's actions had endangered the entire planet of Gaia, and his fate was now fixed. It was only a matter of time before the Taiyou returned to make his life miserable.

Sigurd Hring looked around at the kingdom he had established. Women, children, vary a man between 15 and 50, good paganfolk who were not deserving of such ill-fated tyranny. His heart grieved with great sorrow, for he knew the future, and the horrible things that would happen to his people once their enemies had returned. He wept silently by himself, before re-gathering his composure and going out to face his kingdom. King Sigurd was a just and honest man. He told the Vikings what had happened, and what would happen as a result. But the people did not hate him for it. They praised him, erecting a magical permanent statue of King Sigurd from enchanted stone, and worshipping him as a living god. He promised them, that whoever came to him and called on his name, and followed him in death, would be with him in paradise.

The entire viking settlement had committed suicide, following Sigurd Hring in death, and sparing themselves from capture or torture in the hands of their enemies. Adding insult to injury, the Taiyou ships had wasted their journey. The Taiyou Empire was robbed of its chance at revenge, as King Sigurd and his loyal subjects took their own lives, leaving nothing but their memories. It was the ultimate act of defiance, an act of selflessness that would inspire rebels for generations to come.

Many years later, Ivar the Boneless, the son of King Ragnar and grandson of King Sigurd would arrive in Iskjerne Bay, influenced by Norse mythology and Taiyou propaganda, and driven by the spirits of his own ancestors. Sigurd Hring's ghost would come to Prince Ivar in his dreams, giving him spiritual advice and guidance, and instructions on how to rebuild the kingdom. But the young man was too bold and arrogant. He had inherited the same thick headedness as his father and grandfather. Ivar had not followed Sigurd's instructions, but had set his heart towards greed and selfishness. He had formed the Great Heathen Army and had plunged the Norse civilization into endless warfare, perverting everything that his grandfather King Sigurd had held sacred for decades.

That was a mistake...

Suddenly the ground in Iskjerne Bay would shake and tremble as bodies tossed and turned in their graves. Everyone in the great Hall, Viking and Argosian alike, would feel the earth tremble beneath their feet. At that moment, an invisible force seemed to unseat the crippled prince as he was suddenly thrown from the throne, with such force that if he did not catch himself, his bones would surely shatter. Meanwhile, the material wooden statue of Prince Ivar would be uprooted and split in half vertically, so that one half remained standing while the other half fell to the ground. Queen Aslaug would feel the mound below her start to tremble as well. The moment she had been waiting for had arrived.

Sigurd Hring had returned.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: Imperial Taiyou Army
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#, as written by Remæus
Thorvald the Great sensed the drum of the aeon, and perked up at the noise.

Man the sails, Fulgar. The horsemen ride at down.
he said solemnly, signaling his next intent.

The heave of oars was heard over the shouting disarray of the crowds, and he turned back towards his ships in a furor. The purpose of his step revealed an aggressive demeanor, almost hungry for war.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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The sudden trembling within the Mead Hall caught the Legata by suprise, getting quickly to her feet, she stopped with just enough time to see Ivar thrown from his throne. There was an overwhelming sense of danger as the Legata turned to her Praetorian. "Let's go, we need to get the bodies, and get out of here." She ordered, as the Praetorian guards all nodded in unison.

Livia, and every one of the Praetorian Guards inside the great mead hall stood up, and one by one moved out the great door, the First Praetorian opened the door for her, while the rest of her Praetorian Guards followed her out. The cold air of Iskjerne Bay greeted them once more, Livia tried to stifle a shiver, but they were going to take their leave of this place. If these new settlers wanted to take them prisoner, then she would make them earn it.

Livia unsheathed her sword and pointed it at the gate, shouting so the magical translator would convert her words. "Open the gate, now! We're leaving." She ordered, while all of her Praetorian Guardsmen surrounded her, and watched their surroundings to see what would happen next.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: Imperial Taiyou Army
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#, as written by Remæus
Fulgar Thornheim nodded in agreement with Thorvald, his second-in-command apt as always. Turning towards the docks, he signaled to his men that it was time again to depart.

Gather what supplies you can, we depart in one hour.
he stated sternly, pulling his fur cloak over his armor and stomping back towards his ship.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: Imperial Taiyou Army
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#, as written by Remæus
Fulgar's Forward Force heard their leader's command, and roared in raucous reply. They spread out into the settlement, commandeering the food stores and any armaments they could find. While not an act of aggression, the noble cause of their unified vision for the Vikings' future gave way to easy requisition of Iskjerne's most abundant resources.

Upon collecting their bounty, they too followed Fulgar back to their vessels for departure onto the next leg of their journey.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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Livia had assembled her guards to leave, and were well on the way to doing so until they passed a mule cart. The Praetorians had been marching in formation as they left the settlement. Though they didn't seem to pay any heed to it as they all marched. However, Livia had caught the wounded man in the back of the cart, and she stopped then, and there in the moment. She didn't know what compelled her to help, but she figured if she was going to start digging up burial mounds, she would have to earn these people's trust.

She held up her hand, and made a fist, causing her Praetorians to stop in their tracks as well, their armor making a clanking sound as they abruptly stopped, and the men clenched their weapons closely.

"Julius, fetch the medical kit from our cart." Livia instructed. The Praetorian offered a sharp nod, before starting off towards what was left of the stables, and the Argosian mule cart, which had been guarded by two vigilant Praetorians since Ivar's fall.

Livia turned to face the Mule Cart, before she called out to it. "Hætta!" Livia called out, moving swiftly after the mule cart, towards it even, though her nordic words were twisted by a Latin style accent, the word itself was clear, and the moment Livia managed to catch up to the mule cart, was the moment that the Praetorian returned with a large white briefcase, that had a large red cross emblazoned on it. The Praetorian looked around, confused for a moment as he handed it towards the Legata, another Praetorian approaching with a large bidon of water, which sloshed inside the plastic container.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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Thorvald Asvaldsson and his son Erik Thorvaldsson were just about to enter the final spiked gate and approach the Iskjerne Castle in their slow moving mule wagon when suddenly they heard someone call out behind them.

"Hætta!" Livia commanded as she quickly started to approach the back of the stopping cart. Erik would discreetly move his hand towards his waistline to grab his small curved seax, but his father Thorvald would seize his arm and stop him, glancing at him quietly for a brief moment before turning around to look at Livia the Legata and her approaching guards. "Let me handle this," he whispered to his son. Thorvald Asvaldsson would remove his hat and nod quietly to the Praetorians, without making any sudden moves. Erik followed suit, easing up and and bowing his head quietly.

Erik watched distrustfully but curiously as one of the Praetorians walked up to Livia with a large white briefcase with a bright red cross on it, gazing at the wounded passenger in the back of the hay wagon before looking around. Soon another Praetorian approached the mule cart with a plastic water container. Thorvald and Erik glanced at one another silently before turning to look again at the Praetorian guards and their female leader. They understood Livia just fine, but they did not recognize her Latinized accent. Thorvald decided to try and speak to her and find out what she wanted as he looked down at the injured person in the back of his wagon before looking at her.

"Kveðja sómakona mín. Ég er Þorvaldur, sonur Asvalds víðs vegar um haf, og þetta er sonur minn Erik, sem er að ferðast mér við hlið. Þekkir þú þennan mann aftan í kerrunni? Við fundum hann á einni hæðinni, eins og hann er núna. Við vitum ekki hvernig hann komst á þennan hátt. En ég get fullvissað þig um að það vorum ekki við sem rændum hann. Við ætluðum bara að koma honum í musterið og skilja hann eftir. Við erum bara fátækir bændur, eins og þú sérð. Við höfum enga peninga en þér er velkomið að líta í kringum þig og taka það sem þú vilt. Vinsamlegast vinsamlegast ekki meiða okkur." the fifty-year-old man said, still holding his hat in his hands.

Thorvald's accent was just as bad as Livia's accent, it seemed, and although he had the appearance and makings of a true Norseman, and could speak fluently, it was apparent to the sharply tuned ears that Thorvald Bloodyfist was not a native to this northernmost part of the land. Nor was Erik, for they both had redder skin than the Iskjerne Vikings, as if they had been traveling for a very long time in the hot sun. Thorvald and Erik watched quietly with widened eyes, obviously very alert and aware of their surroundings, if not a little intimidated and confused by the well dressed Praetorians who outnumbered them considerably. What did they want with two poor farmers and a wounded man? Were they planning to highjack the wagon? Thorvald swallowed and lowered his head, making himself appear as humble as possible while hoping not to offend Livia and her guards as they examined the wagon.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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Livia quietly reached out to Ragnar in the back of the cart, she was trying to take a look at his wounds, and unlike the beserkers, and the other impoverished inhabitants of this village, Livia's hands would be clean, her fingernails well manicured, and slightly polished, her hands were calloused not from labor, but from years of battle, it was clear she knew how to wield a sword. She looked up and over towards Thorvald, and then back towards one of the Praetorians who was not otherwise occupied.

"Claudius, revertetur per viam portae, non potest dicere Generalis Hama reversus cum hospite." She instructed in Argosian, which sounded a great deal like ancient Latin, the same Latin spoken by the Romans.

"Etiam, Legata." The Praetorian said, bringing his hand across his chest, and bowing briefly. He turned swiftly, and began to move up towards the mountain, his footfalls heavy, and carefully disciplined.

After giving her instructions, Livia reached a slender hand out towards the back of the mule cart, and she placed an armored boot on the back to pull herself up and into the back of the cart, while turning her head towards Thorvald.

"Ég er Livia, fyrsta Legate. Ég vil ekki hlutina þína, ég vil hjálpa þessum manni." She said, her words once more being twisted by her accent, while she directed her attention to Ragnar, grimacing at the wounds he sustained while the Praetorian tossed the white briefcase into the back of the cart, and the second hefted the jug of water up into the back of the cart as well.

"Ef við komumst hann ekki læknishjálp, hann mun deyja." Livia added, this strange language which she had spent the latter part of her time here studying was broken, and difficult to pronounce but she kept trying. She looked over Ragnar, and noted the wounds covering his body, several puncture wounds of different types, lacerations, and he appeared to be succumbing to the effects of some kind of toxin. Livia was no doctor, but she had attended classes offered by the Taiyou in first aid techniques. If she could stabilize him, they could take him to Niihama to receive medical attention. She reached down to her waist, and pulled a pugio from it's sheath, the shiny, clean blade glinted in the sunlight, while Livia started to cut away at the leather straps, or fabric that held Ragnar's shirt on, if he had one. The blade sliced through the shirt fabric almost effortlessly, and Livia noted the wounds were packed with dirt, and festering.

She opened the white briefcase, which revealed dozens of stainless steel tools of various types, scalpels, forceps, scissors, hemostats, bandage scissors, and all manner of different tools, which glimmered in the sunlight.

Livia opened a bottle of a clear liquid which had some unusual symbols on it, a bottle of alcohol disinfectant printed in Taiyou. Once Livia opened it up, the strong smell permeated the back of the cart. She first doused her Spatha with it, and then her hands, rubbing the alcohol before rinsing with the water container. Once dry, she pulled a pair of latex gloves from the kit, snapping them onto her hands, she started with the larger, more obvious wounds.

She worked the spear wounds first, digging the dirt and mud from the deep lacerations, and then flushing them with alcohol, which stung, and then water, until the wounds appeared clean, Two of the Praetorians moved into the back of the cart to restrain Ragnar if necessary.

The Legata worked quickly, flushing the wound clean, and then packing it with gauze, with the larger wounds stabilized, Livia moved to the smaller wounds, flushing with water to clean the dirt from them, and then disinfecting them with the alcohol. Some of the smaller cuts, Livia began to take some thread, and a curved needle, and suture them closed.

"What happened to this man?" She remarked at first in English, and then she stopped herself. "Hvað gerðist"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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Livia took brief notes of the ligature marks on the wrists, and the legs, and she took brief note of the cross etched into his forehead. Livia did not move to flush this wound with alcohol, as she didn’t want to risk injury to the eyes, rather she reached up slowly to flush the cross shaped gash with some water.

“Hold still.” She said slowly, dabbing at the gash with a piece of gauze, cleaning the dirt from it, and slowly, and carefully moving to suture the wound close. This close, the faint floral smell of perfume wafted from the heavy armor, and verdant indigo cape that the woman was wearing, her arms were slender, and lacked many of the scars that someone of her stature should have. Of course, not being cut was part of her skill.

When Ragnar gazed into Livia’s piercing blue eyes, he would see the soul of a cunning warrior, a brilliant strategist, and a woman who was wise beyond her years, touring the galaxy and representing her people on the council afforded her knowledge beyond what a simple primitive could ever hope to attain. Her service to both her own country, and the Taiyou allowed her to see battles that were beyond comprehension. She had the weathered look of a great general, or king, someone who had been used to leading their people in battle.

“I’m going to take him with me.” Livia answered, while she began to fish around inside the briefcase, reaching in to pull out a small box that contained a small syringe. The text on this box was printed in a different alien language, one that resembled a cross between runic, and cuneiform. Livia inspected the vial of dark purple liquid and then the label which was printed in Taiyou. The label stated the chemical was only to be used in case of extreme emergency, and that it was highly addictive. Fortunately, she didn’t use it, rather she fished around inside the box, digging deep until she pulled out another small box, this one had a picture of a stylized rattlesnake on it. The rattlesnake had a helmet on it with a red cross, and the text was typed in some strange eastern language.

Livia figured it was worth a try as she drew the yellowish liquid into a needle, she made sure to look at the correct dosage from the instructions, and using the instructions as a reference point, she slid the needle into Ragnar’s deltoid muscle, and pushed the plunger to inject the contents, a potent polyvalent antivenin that was designed to counteract the venoms of vipers and their related species. Livia didn’t know if it would work, as the Taiyou engineered the antivenin from snake species they knew of, but she figured it couldn’t hurt.

Once the needle was empty, she capped it and placed it in a small red plastic sharps box, just at the moment the Praetorians returned with their own mule cart.

“General Hama is expecting us, he said there is an ambulance standing by.” One of the Praetorians remarked in an English dialect this time, while Livia nodded, reaching into a leather pouch and producing a small handful of silver denarius coins, passing them to Thorvald.

“There is a cave in the mountains north of here, can you take us there? I will pay you for your trouble.” Livia asked.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Livia Caesarius Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking
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Thorvald Asvaldsson took the small handful of silver denarius coins in the palm of his hand, looking down at them before looking back up at Livia for a moment. He then turned and handed the silver coins to his son Erik the Red, who picked up one of the coins and bit into it to see if it was real. Thorvald then rested his hand on Erik's shoulder.

"Thank you kindly Your Grace, but this old man has already sworn his allegiances to another. Besides, I will only slow your haste. These old bones have been traveling for many weeks, and I am in need of some rest. I will send my son with you instead, he can take you to the mountains." Thorvald said, squeezing his son's shoulder gently before patting him on the shoulder and climbing down out of the mule wagon.

The red-headed young man stared at his father quietly before nodding and placing the silver denarii into his belt pouch and grabbing the reigns. Thorvald nodded respectfully to Livia and her Praetorian guards before putting his hat back on and slapping the mule's ass with his open hand. "Go now my boy, and be quick." Thorvald said as the four-wheeled cart started moving.

Erik the Red nodded and whipped the reigns, shouting loudly. "Yah!!" He yelled as the wagon started to pull away, gaining speed with Livia and Ragnar in the back of it as he carried out the Legata's wishes, taking her north towards the mountains. Ragnar began fading in and out at that moment, talking nonsensically in a way that was incomprehensible to both Livia and Erik.

"Aethelstan... Aethelstan don't leave me." Ragnar said weakly as he squinted his one good eye open and reached out to Thorvald, but the old man was already beginning to walk back towards the castle. Ragnar would blink slightly, beginning to feel nauseated and dizzy from the polyvalent antivenin Livia had injected into his shoulder. He tried to squint and blink, turning his head to look up at Livia again. With his blurry vision, he thought for a moment that she was a valkyrie. The sun's rays cascading over her head and shoulders with brilliant rainbow colors appeared to him like a halo, winged helmet or like the wings of an angel as he smiled very slightly at Livia before laying his head back and closing his eyes again. "Eir, beloved Eir, don't let my wife find out that I'm dead or she'll kill me." Ragnar muttered softly before losing consciousness and passing out.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: Imperial Taiyou Army
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To the Argosians, it seemed that the treachery if savages knew no bounds, and was without limits for the small band of Praetorian guards, and thermir servants, and the small encampment they maintained outside of the main settlement, beyond its walls, where they could come and go without relying on someone to open the gates for them.

That fateful night, the contubernium of Argosian Praetorians slept in shifts as they normally did, four were asleep, two were charged with maintaining their equipment, and two stood watch on each end of the tent, which flapped and fluttered in the frigid wind. Two fires burned where each of the soldiers sat, making their home atop some stones, and one even managed to drag a piece of driftwood to serve as a makeshift bench.

The Praetorian on the south side of the tent was busy oiling his sword, applying a thin coat of synthetic oil on his sword, it was a practice given to them by the Taiyou to keep the razors edge on the nanosteel blade, the same synthetic oils kept their armor from rusting, and kept it's sheen.

The Praetorian happened to avert his gaze from the orange glow that reflected from his sword to see smoke billowing from the city. He acted quickly, moving into the tent and quietly rousing the inhabitants inside.

"The city is under siege, quickly to arms!" He hissed, rousting the other Praetorians whom all wore nothing but their purple tunics, without time to don their armor, they grabbed their swords and shields, and swiftly moved out of the tent, each of the eight Praetorians formed a defensive circle around the tent with their shields, each held their swords out, and over their shields while the my crouched, their eyes focusing into the darkness.

The first painted viking warriors would find themselves charging into the circle, and when they closed the distance, the Praetorians struck, using their large shields to block incoming axe blows, which clashed with the enameled nanosteel with a deafening metallic clang, the Praetorians drove their swords deep into their bellies, the razor sharp gladius swords slicing, and disemboweling efficiently as their honed edges sliced through flesh.

Once impaled by sword they were shoved back by shield, Argosian sandals digging into the mud, and blood soaked dirt.

"Hold the formation!" The Decanus called out. Anticipating the next wave any moment.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Yoko Kayabuki Character Portrait: Sigurd Hring Character Portrait: Seno Miyagi Character Portrait: Uhtred the Godless Character Portrait: The Svinfylking Character Portrait: Imperial Taiyou Army
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When bodies slammed against shields with audible thunks, immediately followed by the sickening crunches of swords impaling flesh, and then the now dying viking warriors shoved back, there was yet another wave, slamming against the shields to meet their death, and then shoved back, slowly forming a ring of bodies that began to pile up, one after another as viking warriors fell against Argosian shields, and Argosian swords. The shield wall did not yield, for a time as the warriors slammed against them, only to be killed. The Decanus was there, in the fight, bracing against the weight of muscle, and flesh only to drive his sword into the belly of his enemy. This however could not go on forever. The never-ending sea of torches, pitchforks, and arrows were dauntless, but the Praetorians held fast, as the bodies around them piled up.

Seconds dragged on to minutes, minutes dragged on to almost thirty before the first Praetorian soldier began to waver, his muscles were taxed, and the constant onslaught of bodies against his impermeable shield drew upon his muscles, as he struggled to maintain his composure. He jabbed his blade, impaling yet another savage warrior and sending him to his death, with all of his reserves, he shoved the barbarian back, into the piling mound of his brothers only for a flaming arrow to sail past him, and into the tent. The deafening clatter of pig iron on nanosteel echoed through Iskjerne Bay as the arrows struck shields, bouncing harmlessly into the ground, but with the tent behind them ablaze, the Praetorians were now no longer defending an objective, they were going to take as many of these savages as they could before they succumbed to greater number.

The Praetorian formation broke, and the individual Praetorians moved into the savage swarm, driving their blade into as many as they could before they were overtaken, each Praetorian fought valiantly, deflecting incoming blows with his large shield, and driving his blood coated blade deep into the belly of the nearest ash covered savage, it was a battle that would earn them titles on the highest Argosian honors once the legion learned of the betrayals here.

The Decanus too fought bravely, feeling what felt like someone punching his chest as an arrow seared into his armor, striking it with an audible 'tink' and a small shower of sparks, the Arrow stuck harmlessly into the ground as the Decanus held his blade firmly, staring directly into the eyes of Ubbe Ragnarsson as he drove his gladius into the throat of a nearby warrior, and immediately deflecting another axe blow with his shield, before impaling yet another, and kicking him off his glistening sword.

There was a brief lull as the Decanus stared with hatred at Ubbe, the Decanus spoke in carefully chosen Argosian words.

"Alea iacta est."

Immediately after uttering those words, the Decanus fell into his sword, which impaled him, and killed himself instantly, denying Ubbe and his savages the satisfaction of killing him, one last act of defiance secure in the knowledge that the Argosian legion would avenge their deaths, and with his last act of defiance, he left the flaming camp to the pillaging vikings, until the powder stores inside the tent blew, and a massive explosion engulfed all who were nearby, sending splinters of wood, iron, and nanosteel flying in all directions, and a plume of flame began to mushroom into the sky with the acrid smell of gunpowder.

nearly a hundred savages lay dead, or dying in a ring around the formation of Argosian Praetorians, and dozens lie dead around each individual Praetorian, whose purple robes were covered in the blood of their enemies. Fueled by light woods, and gunpowder, the blaze burned hot, intensely so, the orange glow reflecting off of blood coated blades.