Wolfe Shaeffer's Story

Omega, Capitol of Purplexia - Midnight: Phoenix

Nighttime came like some foul beast, looming hideously over the horizon until the sun was adequately dispelled from sight. Lurking cautiously forward, it rose as one massive blanket of cloud coverage that was destined to fully envelop and devour the world beneath it. Obscuring the stars above, it dropped an impregnable and discomforting veil of shadows over anything that lay below. Looking out, one would generally expect rain, but none came. A near deathly silence accompanied this grim twilight, a plague which seemed to have spread to almost every living being.

A full moon served as the only source of comfort this night. Peering through the single break in the perpetuating overhang, the large luminescent orb sat high atop her throne overhead, pregnant with powers beyond human comprehension; powers waiting to be distributed to its children on earth. With the beautiful Lunar Goddess casting down a brilliant spotlight of heavenly rays, Omega took center stage in a play overseen by the immortals themselves. Saturated by the divine light from above, and positioned as the epicenter in a large field, its stone walls seemed to radiate their own personal glow. Reaching an intimidating forty feet, and with a girth of ten, this mighty structure serves to represent the enduring strength of the people of Purplexia, employing a plethora of armor-clad guardians. The bane of any cynical crusader, this fortification stands strong and proud, ready to thwart any nefarious endeavors of those who would oppose the monarchy housed within. Tonight, however, the battlements were devoid of life; the towers and defense platforms sat empty. It would be here that a select few dared disrupt the ominous calm which had befallen the lands, and they moved with deadly intentions, ghosting through the darkness like phantoms, ready for the kill.

...

The halls of the castle were decorated lavishly, and possibly even overwhelmingly. Made to accommodate the whimsey of the occupants from generations ago, the ceilings were created with high arches that very much resembled a cathedral of sorts, and from which hung large chandeliers. Most were plain with only a ring of candles, while others, like the one in the foyer, utilized a collection of expensive crystals to capture and refract the light out in beautiful patterns across the marble floor. Several hand-carved oak beams served as columns along the walls, the tops of which arched out overhead in the forms of many different creatures, from dragons and lions, to hawks and bears. From these, a series of intricately designed purple banners, decorated exquisitely with golden designs of vines and leaves, as well as with hanging laces, were strung. Other expensive furnishings, such as pictures and coats of arms, adorned the walls between these wooden supports, just over the many small pedestals and stands which were set at short intervals to support beautifully tended potted plants, or busts of past nobility. The inside corners of each hall housed a single armor set, the shining steel polished to the point that one could clearly see their reflection. On either side of these silent warriors, short pillar stood guard at shoulder-height, the tops of which were concaved to form a bowl from which purple flames would continuously burn. Guards monitored these halls with a vigilance unmatched, but even they missed the smaller details every now and again, having grown far too accustomed to a tediously boring routine of pacing back and forth.


Phoenix was one of few on duty this night. In fact, he alone, along with only a platoon of the Lord's finest men, were charged with the task of receiving the guests that were expected to arrive at any moment. All others were given a single twelve hour leave; a great risk, but indeed a necessary one. Not an hour ago, Phoenix had verified the arrival of several combatants over the northern wall, seen by means of an astronomy tower at the top of the castle itself. Two guards had been placed there to stand watch, easily identifiable and traceable by the glint of their steel in the moonlight. The man had watched as both collapsed, disappearing beneath the parapets to be replaced by a series of silhouettes which rose only to strike, before diving back into the cover of the night. So far the anonymous tip had proven correct, but to what extent would it hold true? Looking into the sky, Phoenix felt as if the atmosphere was far too fitting of the situation.


The main hall was the single stretch left leading to a large set of decorative double doors. Beyond that point, only a short distance remained to be navigated before reaching the royal chambers. A small, dead-end hallway on both sides intersected the main hall at its midpoint of fifty feet, harboring a collection of rooms that were either empty, or housing an army of brooms and other less than important objects. Phoenix stood along this intersection, at the corner to ones right as they would be approaching the guarded gates. Hidden within the shadow of a support beam, the man's dark clothing allowed him to simply melt into the small alcove and disappear.

A master of concealment, Phoenix knew that movement was the key to detection. With the eyes having only a small focal point, things could easily remain hidden in plain sight, even without entirely matching their backdrop. Thusly, the peripheral vision was utilized to capture movement, and would draw attention towards anything that broke the stillness. Standing with his feet shoulder-width apart, and with his hands folded neatly behind his back, gripping a loaded crossbow, the man waited in silence for the arrival of the intruders.


Five minutes passed like five hours, and to anyone, even a master like Phoenix, it was enough to set one on edge, with tension running high. Nevertheless, the man forced himself into a sort of self-induced state of rest, one that he'd perfected that would allow his body to relax, without losing his keen senses as a hunter; he heard it a moment later.

Only the barely audible whistling foreshadowed the imminent death of the guards just down the hall. There was a pop as steel was punctured, followed by a loud crashing of armor plates against the hard floor. Without so much as a cry or plea for help, the two men fell, relieved of duty. Phoenix remained unmoving in his place, simply waiting as the footsteps advanced. The situation was a delicate one, as the infiltrators were no doubt wary of a trap in place for them due to the absence of more guards. On top of that, because this was the last boundary to be passed, their adrenaline would be running overtime, as well as their nerves. Having begun with a more subtle approach over an hour ago, the men were running out of time and had apparently dismissed their original game plan, believing that they were in now the clear. Racing against the clock, and with no knowledge as to whether or not their presence was known, now, if ever, would be the time for mistakes.


The first three passed quickly, not even bothering to glance down the hall which bisected the one they were traveling. Why? Because no doubt they had gathered enough intelligence to inform them about the frivolous adjoining path. It held nothing of importance, and lead nowhere, and thus the guards would not traverse it. Secondly, if one had a map of the plotted areas designated to each guard, they would know that this crossroads was maintained by only the two eliminated just seconds ago. Phoenix, however, wasn't a guard; mistake number one.

The last two of the group lagged behind, made up of a ranged combatant and a sweeper. If sources proved worth the money it cost to gain the information, then Phoenix was already acquainted with several of these men, and in fact knew both of the two he was about to engage. Fellow mercenaries who held no sense of morality with the missions they accepted, the man had no quarrel with dispatching them from this world. On multiple occasions he'd considered it before, but he wouldn't waste his time or effort on them unless it were necessary. The fourth passed.

Seconds turned to tedious hours in Phoenix's head as he worked through the situation. He heard the last man's approach, a mere meter behind the other, prepared himself to move, adjusted for any calculation flaws, and finally stepped around the corner. Throwing out a steel-plated left arm, Phoenix caught the fifth infiltrator hard in the bridge of his nose. A sickening crunch emanated from the cartilage and bone behind it as both splintered, followed by another gruesome crack as the man's head jerked violently back, leaving his body to continue forward. The man landed, sprawled on his back with a thud, his bow skidding onward to the feet of his subordinates.

Simultaneously, Phoenix's right arm came up, crossbow in hand. Hardly having to apply any pressure to the trigger, the man released the catch on the string and sent the deadly bolt whizzing towards its target. The fourth intruder, who had just turned to investigate what had happened behind him, collapsed next, the deadly projectile embedding itself and penetrating easily through the soft flesh of his neck. The man simply spun and rolled awkwardly onto one side, his scream turning into an incoherent, frothy gurgling as blood poured into and down his throat. A pool accumulated quickly beneath the fountain of crimson, and the man simply lay idle in it, his mouth gaping silent curses from beneath the now red-stained clothe mask, while his eyes stared ahead, a look of uncomprehending shock locked in them.

Phoenix dropped the crossbow and turned now to fully face the three remaining assassins. All of them wore the same black uniforms with thin masks and hoods; all of them returned his calm gaze with a combination of newly-found hatred, bewilderment, fear, and the intent to kill.


The Throne Room of Omega - The following morning: Alterez

A single purple carpet outlined in gold lacing cut a swath through the center of the room, from the grand mahogany doors, to the raised section of flooring where the thrones sit. On either side of this carpet, the same decorative wooden support beams found in the halls would stand, reaching up into the high-arched ceiling and rafters, nearly thirty feet above. Banners and flags hung delicately from these heights, along with a grand chandelier in the center of the room. With a diameter of six feet, and total height of ten, the ornate piece of decor was one of the many prized artifacts of the monarchy. Struck from a single vein of precious gems found at the construction site of the castle generations ago, it has adorned the throne room ever since.

The room itself expanded beyond the boundaries of the carved wooden beams. In the vacancy between these and the far walls which were governed by thick, stone columns, a series of long tables were set, covered in similar purple cloths to those that hung from the ceiling, as well as an infinite amount of silverware that would go unused. As with the rest of the castle, the throne room spared no expense in finding the rarest of luxuries. Shields and crests hung off the wooden supports, while pictures were placed in their respective positions on the walls. Guards were set in front of every stone column, next to dozens of potted plants, busts, other statues and even various weapons racks. Often though, the guards would go unnoticed, overlooked as merely another piece of interior design.

The most stunning part of the throne room, however, was the far back wall which loomed over the heads of those in power. Inset with a beautifully decorated stain-glass window that rose to a grand twenty feet, it faced the East, allowing the sunrise to cast into the castle a harmonious collection of colors which melded and blended together in order to form a detailed image of the first great war, from which Purplexia was forged. The image would be sprawled across the floor in front of the thrones in a sort of sparkling, shining wonder, projected by a heavenly might as a reminder to those enemies vanquished ages ago, and to those who would threaten the kingdom today.

Alterez always found himself enticed by this mystifying wonder. Whoever had designed it definitely had an eye for detail, and knew exactly how to harness every aspect of it. As it was now, the self-proclaimed Lord had allowed himself to fall into a daze, his mind wandering to great reaches far beyond the extent of the problems at hand. Problems which unfortunately refused to wait.

"Sire?" a man's voice called.

Alterez suddenly sat up, blinking. It took him a moment to acclimate himself back into the real world, but finally he found his voice. "Ah, oh, yes... Right. Uh, continue," the man said, straightening himself in his seat. The throne was made almost entirely of gold, with purple cushions and designs detailing it, as well as with a sort of cape draped over the back. His own and the Queen's were nearly identical, however his was indeed slightly taller, though neither was set in the center. Her throne sat to his immediate right, with the illusive assassin Phoenix standing to his left.

"Problem, sire?" the man asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. It was General Poliferus, a great man with a spectacular battle record. He stood with an intimidating aura and spoke with a confident, commanding tone. His face showed signs of a veteran combatant, and his deep sunken blue eye held in it a strong unwavering stare. A thin scar ran down one side of his face, passing over the other empty socket. Easily able to outsmart and outmaneuver any enemy formation, even with all odds against him, his mind was sharp, and not one to be trifled with. With such an impressive history below his belt, Alterez could overlook the inflated self-reverence the man possessed.

Alterez shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. "No no, please continue, General."

The man gave a brisk nod, folding the papers he was holding behind his back as he fell into a sort of parade-rest. "Apologies, sire, but I had just finished," said Poliferus. Alterez raised a curious eyebrow to the man, but said nothing, as if contemplating his words. "To recap, however, the matter still stands. The rebels, despite all failed attempts, are still getting support. Five of the most notorious assassins means that the support includes a great deal of sponsors. From where, we are unsure as of now, but it can b-"

"General," a man cut in. Poliferus turned to face the lead adviser, a rather plump man dressed with more decorations than the entire palace itself. Poliferus didn't need to say anything, but simply nodded for the other to speak. "It is a simple solution," the adviser continued, almost as if the words he was about to say were far too obvious for the General to realize. "Reinforce all troops in the surrounding Barons castles, and tighten security, as well as law enforcement. We'll then gather a list of anyone suspected of treason, arrest them and have them tried."

"And how do you suggest we go about compiling a list of everyone who has aligned themselves with the rebels?" Poliferus retorted evenly. "They may be numerous, but of the population, they are a small majority spread far too thin throughout the kingdom. You'd have better luck trying to to enlist yourself in basic training."

The man gave the General a rather indignant look at his comment, but then simply brushed it off, rolling his eyes. Sticking out his face and placing his hands on his hips like some toddler with a point to prove, his jowls jiggled as his shook his head. The man sighed then spoke slowly this time, the condescension in his words palpable. "General... If you enforce the laws enacting better curfews and restricting movement from people in and out of these cities, you simply look for those who would disobey... The ones who are with the rebels are the ones sneaking around at night, and moving around this or that... And please, if I wished to partake in the barbaric trade that you call a profession, I would have. That is below me, however."

"Suggesting we turn the people against us by trying to cram more laws down their throats?" Poliferus asked, somewhat astounded by the man's less than reasonable solution to the problem. "Sire?" The General turned to Alterez, looking for some input.

"Sire," another adviser broke in, "I think if we promise it is only long enough to capture these rebels, they would understand. They don't like them any more than we do, and besides, we've already got people throwing around the names of people acting suspiciously. This would only make it easier! It won't do harm if only temporary..."

"Indeed!" responded the first adviser again.

Alterez simply heaved a deep sigh and sunk back into his seat, looking bored and beyond annoyed with his cast of advisers as they then took it upon themselves to begin throwing out new laws and ways to employ and enforce them. Poliferus lost himself in attempting to point out each and every flaw, however it seemed not many were giving him support, though some were. The voices of the supposed esteemed Council were steadily rising, trying to overpower the other in an attempt to get their ideas out, all the while creating an incessant drone of indecipherable words. Alterez leaned over, putting his face in the palm of his hand while his elbow rested on the cushioned arm rest of his throne. The man was becoming extremely aggravated with the lack of intelligence within the group, as well as their inability to compromise on anything. All their ideas seemed to benefit themselves in one way or another, or simply just deteriorate the loyalty within the people to them. The man let out another exasperated sigh, finally standing.

"Meeting adjourned!" he called loudly. And with that, the man turned and strode from the room, exiting through one of the side doors. Phoenix followed several paces behind, with two guards falling into step immediately after him.

The room fell silent for a moment as everyone paused, exchanging uncertain looks or shrugs of indifference. Finally a man spoke. "Very well, we shall compile a list of new laws and regulations for the kingdom and present them to his Lordship come the assembly later today!" announced the lead adviser. There was a mixed response, but no one argued anymore, simply dispersing to go about whatever business they had to attend to.

Poliferus closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded to his men who followed him through the open double doors. In two hours the palace was expecting the arrivals of a new battalion from Ravensgard, as well as a congregation of people expecting an announcement from their Lord or Queen. Poliferus had to accept these troops and ensure the area was secure before then. He also had to send out a letter to his dear friend, Wolfe. If security and laws were tightened, that would make his tasks that much harder to accomplish. Perhaps later he'll also find a way to dispose of those mercenaries the Lord had hired. His own had failed... Wolfe needed to know everything.

The rays of the early morning sun shone brightly through Sierra's silk curtains, accentuating the natural luster of her equally silky mulatto skin. Slowly and cautiously she slipped on her stark white dress, firmly applying her magical bangles as the final part of her morning procedure.

Though usually quite swift in her movements, the commotion caused by last night stilled her usual push for punctuality. Even after personally sweeping the castle, she made every move with a weather eye looking behind her. These assailants wouldn't have attempted a direct infiltration into the castle just because the spirit struck them- they were professionals, and as far as she knew, this could be simply the beginning.

This was probably the purpose for her most recent summon. Her last investigation into a black-market merchant (which, after one too many misunderstandings turned promptly into an assassination,) had left her bed-ridden and unable to engage the infiltrators directly. Were she a betting lady, she would bet that the Queen was going to sanction an investigation into the recent attack.

She strode gracefully from her room, with much less haste in her step than usual. She was not fond of being caught unawares, and sleeping through a direct assault was borderline embarrassing. Her room was not far from the throne room, so truancy was hardly a concern.

She recognized the deceptively commanding tone of Lord Alterez calling for the adjournment of a meeting. After nodding to a few unrecognizable advisers, her eyes brightened at the sight of the General. This man had been a comrade to her father quite some years ago, and has remained a friend to House Shaeffer since her older brother Wolfe was born. She had always thought of the man as a second father, and working as his colleague in the castle had only heightened her respect for him. Even though her paygrade would suggest that they are of equal rank, he was every bit her superior, and she savored every opportunity to seek both his council and his company.

"General, good morning!" Sierra greeted, clasping one of his gargantuan hands with two of her own petite palms. Her strict adherence to a professional demeanor prevented her from succumbing to her usual 'bear hug' routine, but the two had been through far too much for her to resist all forms of affectionate contact.

"I trust your meeting with the Lord and Queen went well? What news do you have of the assailants of last night?"




"Ah, my dearest Madame Verseaux!" Wolfe chided to Dream, adopting a feign drunken stupor convincing to all but the Queen-to-be herself, "Dare I say that you simply radiate all the grace and beauty of a Tavern Harlot this fine day! Allow me to buy you a drink- nothing but a hard tankard of ale will do to adequately compliment that exquisitely pungent aroma of sensual fluids and regret!"

Wolfe quickly scanned the tavern, noting multiple suspicious patrons whose attention suddenly turned from the auspicious Lady Dream. His stunt hadn't turned away all of them, however- he noted three particularly hardy looking interlopers, who also happened to be concealing some form of blade within their doublets. Wolfe suspected that these gentlemen would not be so easily swayed by his coy acting- he hoped that he wouldn't have to let his old friends Fame and Fortune speak on his behalf, but if the fate of the Rising Queen depended on it, then he would allow them to speak until their vocal folds succumbed to fatigue. He couldn't afford for her to fall.

At least, not here...

"Milady, you really aught to consider doing things less Queen-y." he spoke to Dream, losing the drunken persona, "Most people don't show up to greasy spoons like this drawn in a carriage and looking like ten thousand gold pieces personified!"

His attention was momentarily interrupted by the appearance of Dream's latest potential recruit. He took a moment to flash Starlight a wink.

"And you must be the pirate that we're trying to recruit! I'm a politician myself, so I couldn't be happier at the prospect of having someone around who's just as much of a bottom-dwelling, scum sucking criminal as me!"

He didn't take long to observe the pirates reaction before immediately turning his attention back to the Lady Dream.

"I've managed to cast most eyes off of you, milady, but you've got two on the northeast corner and one at the entrance who are still gazing this way. They all conceal similar blades from the looks of it, so I imagine that they're together. I'll warn you if they start doing anything un-gentlemanly, but do try to make this quick!"

With that, Wolfe sat down at one of the tables, resuming his drunken act with a couple of the local bar wenches. It would become crystal clear soon enough that he was enjoying the act far more than they were!

Dream rested her hands on the table and chuckled a bit when Star asked why she couldn't dial it down. She just shrugged. "I like my gowns. At least my hair isn't decorated in jewels," she commented. Just then her trusted adviser Wolfe came up to her and preformed a drunken act. She just rolled her eyes at him. Why did he had to come to her like this? It was embarrassing, but he must have a good reason. First he commented on her outfit as well which she waved off as nothing. Then he mentioned the other peopele in the tavern that might want to kill her. She giggled. "I will be careful, Wolfe," she said. When he left her and the pirate alone she turned attention back to her.

"First order of business. How do I know that you and your Captain are actually on my side? And how do I know that you aren't trying to kill me?" she asked. She leaned back into the booth crossing her arm she could feel the dagger pressing against her arm. IT was good to know that it was there when she needed it.

Rubber walked into the tavern and smoothed back his brown hair. He quickly reached into his pocket and brandished a hook, glowing a faint emerald color in the orange of the bar. He carefully screwed it into place, making sure of its sharpened tip. He then reached for a letter mailed to him about a fortnight ago. It was given to him by Lady Dream herself, detailing the area in which he was supposed to meet her. Needless to say, he was extremely disappointed. He was looking forward to sitting around a fireplace, drinking imported liquor. But apparently, such was not the case, as they were here, stepping in a mixture of blood, grog, and other fluids that need not be mentioned. A quick survey of the room revealed a few hooded men, no doubt in the ranks of Dream, and what appeared to be a politician of some sort, who by the looks of things was trying to get lucky with a few wenches.

The Captain quickly made his way to the table in which Star sat. While she wore a hood and mask, it was obvious to see that she was a Neko, two bumps where her ears touched the top of her cowl were visible, even with the dimly glowing lamps illuminating the room. He could see that she was sitting with a person, talking intently with her about the matter at hand. As he walked up to the couple, the yelling and music slowly were slowly drowned out by the back and forth conversation of the two.

"First order of business. How do I know that you and your Captain are actually on my side? And how do I know that you aren't trying to kill me?"

It must have been Lady Dream herself. That would explain the lavish attire she was wearing. If she was alone, he would have picked her pockets by now. She really was what everyone called her. The Mad Queen of Purplexia. At first glance, one may not see anything wrong with her, her ginger hair flowing down her shoulders, her reassuring smile, and some looks borrowed from her younger sister, Violet. But there was certainly something off about her, her smile seemed sincere, but there was certainly a hint of madness behind it. Rubber slowly shuffled up to the table.

"Oi" he says as he tips his hat. He quickly pulls up a chair and sits, in between Star and Dream. "I may assure you, milady. My crew and I have no intent on going against our word in taking down this kingdom. We will be at your side until death. That IS, of course, if the proper payment is given. Which, I have been promised in the letter written by your hand."
He takes the letter out of his coat pocket and pins it to the table with his hook, securing it in place. He smiled in expectancy of the information about to be revealed, letting the light bounce off of his three gold teeth.

Omega - Poliferus & Sierra

“Sierra darling, good morning.” Poliferus said happily, his earlier feelings of annoyance, worry and whatever else seeming to melt away. The man gave the young lady a pleasant smile, relieved that she had arrived, but more so happy about her impeccable timing. The advisers could be so sour and thick-headed sometimes, he definitely would not want that rubbing off on her, and yet, despite whatever attitude they would grace upon the General, he found it always dispelled by the innocent, sweet demeanor of the girl he’d come to know as his own.

"I trust your meeting with the Lord and Queen went well? What news do you have of the assailants of last night?" she inquired.

Poliferus took his hand away and stepped back, allowing Sierra the not required but still deserved bow of respect he addressed everyone with. Standing tall again, he strode half past her and put one large hand gently behind her to guide her with him. “Please, follow me. We can discuss it on the way down to the Courtyard.”

--

“You slept well then?” Poliferus said finally, after they’d walked a good distance from the throne room and out of earshot of the self-concerned politicians. The only sounds now were that of the outside world coming in through the windows on their left, and the heavy footsteps of his guards that marched otherwise silently behind him. “It’s sometimes so difficult considering all that’s happening, but then again, with the King having hired so many other precautions alongside his Guardsmen, I suppose it can be achieved.”

Poliferus sighed deeply, a bit of worry troubling him again. “Alterez is so young… I fear that he may not know what to do, and that all this time around these pompous fools has tainted his mind. Be wary, being at such the age he was when he began, many things can be so.. influencial…” Poliferus spoke gently, a rare side seen by few. “As for the happenings of everything, they aren’t good. The mercenaries last night, confirmed by Phoenix himself on account of having worked alongside several, were indeed professionals… This is deeply concerning, as it means whoever is sponsoring Lady Dream has some sort of power, or at least money. Personally to me, they go hand in hand, but I won’t jump to conclusions.”

Poliferus stopped, turning down the hall and proceeding down a flight of steps. “Luckily we do have our own sources, and we’re just fortunate that they served true. I felt so ineasy having most of my men take the night off, but if they’d been there, they would’ve been killed alongside those few that were present.” The General was frowning now, considering this. Although he did care for the lives of his men, it wasn’t only because he was ensuring they weren’t killed. Having only a small platoon on standby, that meant that the only real threat was the mercenary Phoenix. He’d underestimated the man despite his renown reputation; a mistake he won’t make twice.

“Nevertheless," he continued, "we’re receiving reinforcements from Baron Vreakalks. I trust you remember him? I have to meet his men when they arrive, and then we have to ready the castle for the Royal Address.

Approaching a large balcony overlooking the North side of the Castle, Poliferus strode into the open, his gaze drifting down to the barracks below, stationed around a large field nearly overflowing with the King’s finest, training, moving in units, tending to equipment or armor, or simply lounging. Poliferus placed his hands on the edge of the delicately carved marble railing, his thumb tracing the purple painted fire. "I just hope Lord Alterez and Queen Violet are ready for this task…” he said after a short time.

A cool breeze tugged on the man’s cape that hung over both his shoulders, ruffling the Purple fabric while making the gold sparkle in the morning sun. Poliferus sighed resignedly again, then turned to Sierra. “Anyway, enough about all this… What sorts of things have you been up to? Heard you were on a mission as of late. How did that go?”


The Tavern -- Captain Rubber, Lady Dream, Star & Wolfe

Sergeant Antorak strode confidently down the street, followed closely by at least a dozen men. Armor-clad and battle-tested, they moved with a purpose through the thick throngs of people that governed the streets, vying for whatever baubles they wished to waste their money on. Ignoring entirely any and all social graces that an exalted member of the Royal Military was supposed to exude, the man pushed aside anyone that got in his way. Toppling a woman carrying fruits, or an elderly veteran who possessed far too many scars that would hinder his ability to move, Antorak remained indifferent. Cold green eyes scanned the area menacingly. The man was on a mission, and his target was directly ahead. With a short nod, his he and his men continued on, their armor and weapons clanking with each step, steel boots kicking up patches of dirt.

--

“Hey there buddy,” a man said suddenly. He’d been positioned near the back of the bar for some time now, but finally he felt as if he should make an appearance. Having grown tired of watching the Queen simply lounge around in public, no doubt at this very moment gathering people for her vanity cause, this man, being a self-respecting loyal citizen, knew that it was merely his civic duty to turn her and her subordinates in. Deciding that this man who had gone through so much trouble to put on a well played act was the more dangerous threat to be engaged, he allowed himself to take a seat next to him. “Name’s Gregora,” he said in a gruff voice as he looked up to the shaggy haired traitor.

While Gregora himself was a rather small, stocky man, he could handle himself just fine against whatever brute dared threaten his Kingdom. Already he’d sent word of this meeting with one of his men to fetch the guards, so now all he had to do was stall until they arrived. After that he could collect his pay, one hell of a bounty that could buy him and his accomplices’ drinks for a lifetime, and continue on his merry way as the man who captured the runaway Queen with family problems. He gave a toothless grin to the man. “So what brings you here today, kind gentleman?”

Gregora’s presence was enough to send those few wenches and barmaids which had accumulated around the man to scatter. His reputation wasn’t the best, but sometimes it helped. He looked to the older gentleman, holding up a half-drained pitcher. “If you’re trying to drown the sorrows of your recent losses against the Kingdom, this ain’t the place.” His gaze shifted back to the Queen, finding that another had joined the group. He shook his head disapprovingly, as if amused, then leaned forward and whispered almost maliciously, “It’s a crime to be in league with pirates, you know. It’s a crime to be against the kingdom.” A blade appeared in his hand as his smile widened. “Treacherous bastard.”

It was just then that the door to the tavern was thrown from its hinges. The kick came from two steel-plated Knights, and the force sent the large wooden object careening into the table directly in front of it. The occupants collapsed, cries suddenly emanating from most present. Bottles and glasses were spilled, but no matter how much people wanted to panic, the commanding voice which bellowed out a moment later ensured that didn’t happen.

“Alright, I hear there’s a little rat in town?” Antorak’s reputation was well known around the few blocks that he was tasked with patrolling and enforcing. Using pain as means of intimidation, he demanded not respect, but fear. His Purple cape, draped over one side of his decorative steel armor, marked him as not just authority, but a man who commanded the authority. The rank of sergeant was low, but it still meant that he had at his disposal a platoon of soldiers, and a plethora of weapons to employ. Of course, if the top brass was aware of what occurred below their noses, Antorak would no doubt have been thrown from his high horse. Unfortunately however, it takes only a few falsified reports and documents, as well as a great deal of inspired awe, to ensure that nobody need know about the dealings the man dabbles in.

Striding in, his eyes took a quick sweep of all present, his men forming up in a rough semi-circular formation behind him, shields raised, swords brandished. A smirk formed on his lips, visible only because officers rarely wore helmets. The Queen wasn’t at all difficult to spot, and so the man nodded, heaving a sigh of satisfaction. His content grew even more so as he recognized the infamous Captain Rubber. He'd surely get a promotion for this lovely catch.

“Everyone present that doesn’t align themselves rightfully at this very moment is under arrest, your renounced majesty.” The man spat the last word as if it were some rotten peace of mutton, speaking directly to Dream, then continued hideously. “Anyone dares try to run, they should ensure they be ready to spill themselves before the might of Purplexia.”

By now several people had regained themselves from the shock of the Sergeant's entrance. A few stood, facing the Queen with looks of disapproval or satisfaction, while others remained uncertain, sitting in their neutrality. Weapons were now appearing in the hands of many.

“Get ‘em," Antorak finally sneered.


Omega – Kota & Lucie

A knock came from the door of the little cottage known to belong to Lucie. Without waiting for an answer, the door was then thrown open, allowing for three men to enter. All were dressed in a simple chainmail shirt accompanied by a few steel plates, as well as a surcoat with the Crest of Purplexia on it, but none held position within the military. These men were simply the police force that monitored civilian matters, rather than diplomatic ones that would escalate to war. Perhaps it was because of their humble yet still respectable positions that kept them from being as easily tainted as those with the true power, or perhaps it was simply because they lived amongst the people they monitored. Whatever the case, they were willing to look past some petty things, but after enough complaints, they were required to take action.

A young man, well groomed, probably mid twenties took the stage, unfolding a piece of paper. “Lucie Mauvais, you have hereby been charged with crimes of theft amongst the citizens of Omega within the great land of Purplexia. You are from henceforth to be apprehended for said violations of the law, and are to be brought in for questioning and trial. If found guilty, the consequences include but are not restricted to monetary fees, servitude to those to whom the acts were committed, or a sentence for up to but not limited to, sixty days.”

The man looked down from the paper towards the young lady, but then stopped short as he became aware of the other presence in the room. Dropping his head almost immediately, and snapping his feet together while putting his arms against his sides, he gave a brisk bow to Kota.

Looking up, his face was flustered, embarrassed due to missing the presence of someone aligned personally to the Queen. “Apologies, Lady Kota. I did not see you there. Please, excuse the interruption, but by law we are to take young Lucie in for questioning.” The two other officers behind the man had stiffened as well, and now all looked expectantly to Kota. She had authority, and so they were to await her response before taking further action.


Omega – Alterez, Violet & Phoenix

Alterez adjusted the lapels on his decorative, sleeveless overcoat, brushing them down and plucking off a single piece of his long, brown hair. The man inspected it thoughtfully, then simply threw it aside. Admiring himself in the mirror for a moment, he disliked having the silent shadow Phoenix with him at all times, but knew it was a necessary precaution. The man was standing in the far corner, head down, but Alterez knew that he was present in every way possible. Turning now away from his reflection, the Lord of Purplexia sighed.

“Am I doing this right?” he asked to nobody in particular. “The late King, Violet’s father… He ruled with so much certainty and dignity… And my father knew the answers to anything he didn’t… Violet and I… Ugh..” The man sighed again, dropping his head. Of course Phoenix didn’t respond, he didn’t expect him to, but he still wished he had some input. He probably did, but then again, it wasn’t in the man’s job description to act as councilor.

Alterez bit his tongue, thinking, before finally he moved towards the great doors of the Royal Chambers and strode back into the throne room.

"What did the General say in the meeting?"

Queen Violent, whom he hadn’t even acknowledged her for he was too annoyed earlier, was sitting in her place at his side. The man was grateful, and watched as her own right hand dismissed herself in search of food, if he had heard correctly. Smiling at the woman, she never ceased to amaze him with her radiate beauty. The elegance she possessed, as well as her father’s strong will. Alterez took a moment to admire her, standing silently to one side before moving to take his seat by her side. He was lucky to have her, he knew, and one day he did plan to marry… But not yet. Things were far too troubling, and besides, they’d agreed on sharing the power if ever possible. It seemed the only way was to remain separate, as dictated by the laws of Purplexia. Maybe one day he’d change that. Yes, that would be lovely… Just another thing he could be known for, another way to better himself and gain complete acceptance. The man smiled, finally deciding to answer his beloved Violet’s earlier question. Leaning back in his cushioned throne, Alterez hated to break the all too welcomed silence of his throne room, but he wouldn’t leave his Queen without an answer.

“Poliferus is simply searching for a way to weed out all traitors and finally put a stop to this rebellion. It seems nobody has any surefire ways to do that… Always holes.” Alterez huffed, a hint of annoyance returning in his voice at simply the thought. “Anyway, he’s off doing his General thing, and the advisers are all off plotting some total domination plan in order to enforce stricter laws, and I’m here without any idea at all.. Supposed to address the people in an hour? Yeah, that’ll be lovely.”

Alterez fell silent for a moment, brooding. His temper was one of his flaws, and it had only gotten worse due to the stress of recent events. “Why is it worth my time anyway? Your sister, without offense, renounced herself. She’s not worth the color she wears. If we could just crush this damned thing now without a problem, I’d love that… It’s just too tedious.” Sighing, the man dropped his face into his palms again, leaning forward in his chair.

“Our dads would know what to do… Hell, I may just let them enact these new laws. Only option that’s actually presented itself! If she weren’t royalty it would just be dismissed like everything else. We’ve had rebellions, but they were all just common rabble, not worth our time. Give the problem to the nearest Baron and his forces, and boom, done…” Alterez was rubbing his temples, growing more and more aggravated the more he thought and talked about it. “Whatever happened between you two anyway? I don’t remember that much fighting amongst you guys, and we all practically grew up together. When did all this happen?”

Looking to his Queen now, Alterez waited expectantly. It was true, despite all the time he’d spent watching them trying to get one of them to notice him, he’d never seen them fight. Albeit he was probably too worried about making himself look good to notice any real bickering about who would be heir, but he surely would’ve noticed the two most beautiful girls he’d ever seen clawing at each other for the throne. Heck, if he had, he could’ve stepped in and given compromise. He was almost literally trained to do that… Alterez tilted his head now, waiting patiently.

“Get ‘em."

At that moment, the man behind the bar pinned down Rubber by one of his shoulders. He brought a knife down next to his neck, narrowly missing. The Captain swung his hook back, piercing his attackers clothes and skin. He then brought back his other hand, and flipped the man over him. He then leapt over the side of the bar, placing a safe barrier between the oncoming soldiers and himself. He looked over to see a man brandish a crossbow and fire it into a crowd, killing a chainmail soldier. A rebel.

Rubber fluently grabbed a small red container out of his pocket. He unshealthed out his scimitar and placed the liquid from the vile on his fingers. He quickly ran the substance on the blade of his sword, as he had done many times before. He stood up to see Star slamming a chair onto the heads of two soldiers. He laughed, she was ready for this, obviously in expectation.

He slid over the top of the bar, feet first into a guard standing backwards, knocking him off of his feet. He fell onto the ground and Rubber kicked him hard in the ear, leaving him unconscious. He quickly ran up to Star and the Queen, slicing a soldier making his way up to her in the legs, leaving him on the ground.

"So then, I think now would be a good time to leave. Through the window, perhaps?" The Captain winked, looking at Star.

The prospect of taking a walk with 'Uncle Polly,' as she used to affectionately call him in her youth, was a most welcome one, especially given the bizarre nature of the castle this morning. He began the conversation on a light note, asking about the quality of her sleep. She let out a sigh, nodding at his question.

"Though I'm remiss to admit it considering the events of last night, yes, I slept like a rock!"

Upon finishing his small talk, he moved into the crux of Sierra's concern, to which she listened intently. She smiled at his gentle concern when mentioning Lord Alterez, honoring the fact that Poliferous was probably not near as tender-hearted with the rest of the castle residents.

"Well, I'm sure as long as you're here, I won't have to worry about getting taken advantage of. Father always had such a black and white view on these sorts of things, but you were always better at helping discern the shades of grey!"

He would go on to discuss the nature of the mercenaries and to speculate upon the benefactor of the Rebel Queen. She merely nodded at his rationale, having nothing further to add.

The mention of Baron Vreakalks, however, was what almost shattered Sierra's impeccable composure. She had only encountered him once before, and it was a visit that she would rather have forgotten.

"Ah, yes, the Baron..." she grimaced, recalling that look of unsatisfiable lust in the Barons eyes, "I'm sure that our forces will be much better served by the presence of his troops..."

Admittedly, the mention of the Baron proceeded to infect her mind, negatively impacting her ability to process the crux of the rest of the conversation. It was when he posed a question directly to Sierra that she managed to snap out of her unintentional stupor.

"Ah yes, the mission. Truth be told, these investigations the queen has been sending me on have become successively more bloody with each mission. What was supposed to be a simple black market bust turned out to be an assassination of one of the top dealers in the trade..."

She needed to choose her next words carefully. Though it wasn't Poliferous's judgement she feared, Lord Alterez had plenty of eyes and ears hidden about the castle- especially that enigmatic mercenary Phoenix, who seemingly appeared out of thin air!

"It's not that I distrust the Queen's judgement," she began, using her eyes rather than her words to convey her concern to her old friend, "but I can't help but shake the feeling that I'm resorting to killing far more than I should. Perhaps there is an error in the manner in which I'm conducting my investigations? I hope that the Queen will be able to provide me with more counsel..."

The distress in her face would speak volumes more than that in her tone, and just as quickly as it had manifested, she had withdrawn it, adopting yet again her poised posture. Her smile also returned, as though it had simply vacated the premises for a brief moment.

"But, enough about that! How is Vincent faring with his lessons in swordplay? Him and Father can't be bothered to write, so you're the only connection I have to my family!" She paused, remembering another concern that had been bothering her, "...speaking of family, you haven't heard from Wolfe perchance, have you? I haven't spoken with my elder brother since his abrupt departure from his employment..."

Before she could get an answer, however, the elusive Synclair made himself present, looking rather harried. She knew very little about the man, save that the tragic loss of his wife had kept him in mourning for the better part of a year. At the mention of a report, Sierra became unnerved, yet compliant.

"You needn't be afraid to speak your mind around me, Sir Prunson," Sierra started, noticing his hesitance to present his report, "I can take leave should you wish to confer your report in private."



As this 'Gregora' appeared, Wolfe felt several negative sensations- deflation from the departure of his newfound wenches (both physically and emotionally,) uneasiness at the man's lack of understanding of the finer points of 'personal space,' and utter disgust at both the toothless visage and the gag-inducing stench which protruded from his unkempt person.

The man began by making small talk. No man approaches another man in a tavern to make small talk, unless of course he fancied the company of other men. Wolfe's worst fears were potentially realized when something large and firm pressed itself against his leg.

"Dear God," Wolfe thought, dread gripping his very soul,"PLEASE be a dagger..."

A quick glance would prove that Gregora indeed had drawn a dagger to Wolfe's exposed leg. Crisis averted.

"Well friend, that's quite an impressive blade you've brandished!" Wolfe responded, choosing not to pay his accusations any mind, "However, they say that the size of ones sidearm is inversely proportional to the size of his other 'prized weapon.' Judging by the impressive girth of your dagger, I'd imagine that you have several 'small issues' to work out, along with whatever animal droppings you've opted to bathe in..."

Wolfe could have spent the entirety of the day indulging in his new witless acquaintance, but the appearance of an older 'friend' of his shattered his charming first impression. It was none other than Sergeant Antorak, perhaps the sketchiest higher-up in all of the Purplexian Army. His appearance was enough to get Gregora off of Wolfe's back- a favor that he would not soon forget!

He simply smiled coaxingly as Antorak put on a wonderful facade of toughness. Wolfe knew better than to take him seriously, especially when he went on a self-righteous tirade as farcical as this. He often wondered just how strenuous it was to make Sergeant in the Purplexian Military, given all that Antorak was good for was hiding behind his soldiers.

Upon the conclusion of his speech, however, Wolfe's smirk transformed into a focused frown. His vision obscured by the ensuing chaos, he kicked his table onto its side, shielding him from thrown glass and blades. His aegis would only last so long, however, as one of the thugs he had spotted earlier lunged his way with a short blade drawn.

"Why must we resort to being so uncivilized!?" Wolfe chided, rolling out of the way of a lethal strike. He then followed up by nimbly withdrawing his right hand dagger, Fortune, deftly slaying his pursuer.

Almost as quick as it had started, he noticed the Lady Dream, the pirate girl, and a new face (presumably her Captain,) gathered at the hind end of the bar. He knew that it was going to be tough for the three of them to get away without some form of distraction...

"STOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!" Wolfe bellowed, his voice carrying over the commotion, "Antorak, surely even you are capable of a more civilized endeavor than this? Skirmishes like this are beneath even the likes of you! Cease this dreadful commotion and speak to me like a man!"

He wasn't sure how Antorak would react to his odd outburst, but his reaction was not integral to his plan. Unbeknownst to the Sergeant, the words 'dreadful commotion' were part of a series of key words developed by himself and the Lady Dream. 'Dreadful Commotion' was used when a situation dictated that one party should exit while the other party acts as bait. In this scenario, it was fairly obvious who was doing the baiting and who should be escaping...

Poliferus, Sierra & Synclair

Poliferus chuckled happily at Sierra's words when it came to himself and her father. The man was brilliant, and Poliferus was honored to know him, as well as his children whom he could almost call his own. The girl especially reminded him so much of a life he had rejected. Of course if he chose to he could've juggled General with father, but having first gained his title at a young age, the hassle was too much. Looking back now, he almost wished he'd accepted it before, his age and experience having finally served to open his eyes to reality. Nevertheless, he was grateful for what he did have.

Only the look of concern and doubt on Sierra's young face at the mention of the Baron was enough to erase the man's smile. Her less than pleased tone at the thought of the esteemed man's troops was even more upsetting. Poliferus would be sure to address that matter separately. Until then, Poliferus silenced himself in order to listen to the recent missions that had been assigned to the girl.

Poliferus frowned deeply at the girl's words, understanding the conflicting emotions she felt. In a fatherly and defensive way, he was very much displeased with the girl being placed into positions where she'd had to succumb to killing someone. The thought of Sierra, the young, innocent girl he had watched grow up having to take another's life because of orders received by Alterez or Violet, or because she was forced into a scenario where it was the only option... The man heaved a sigh. As a realist he knew he couldn't shelter her, that she wasn't his and she had chosen this path of her own accord, but he also felt like she was experiencing some things that she shouldn't. To kill someone was more than simply putting a blade through them. No, you had to look them in the eye, see a person who had dreams and goals, friends or family, and fully understand that after you do what need be done, they'd be gone forever. Their life force would be expelled from the world, never to return.

Poliferus was well acquainted with the shadows of guilt after so many commissions to the battlefield; the constant regret and self-doubt over whether or not there could have been another way, and the nightmares that constantly replayed the horrors of the screams of men impaled over red-stained steel. The man knew how she felt, and sincerely wished that he could have been there in those troubling times to help her decide the right course of action. Many times, looking back, even a war-hardened veteran saw something they could've done different... It was stressful, cynical and hideous, something which his sweet Sierra shouldn't be tasked with doing. Simply the look in her face as she spoke hurt the man too. Poliferus was all to aware that she was choosing her words carefully and deliberately, and sincerely wished that she didn't have to. It wasn't good to not be able to talk to someone so close and still have to knit-pick your own words, but the man allowed her to continue uninterrupted so that she could hopefully get most of what was bothering her off her chest.

"But, enough about that! How is Vincent faring with his lessons in swordplay? Him and Father can't be bothered to write, so you're the only connection I have to my family!" Poliferus noted the abrupt change in her voice and posture, smiling almost sadly with how easily she could alter herself. Although he knew it was only to accommodate a happier subject, it was also something politicians tended to like to do, as well as killers. She definitely wasn't the same young girl that needed protection, she'd grown substantially.

"...speaking of family," she continued as if as an afterthought, seeming to pick up the same concerned tone, "you haven't heard from Wolfe perchance, have you? I haven't spoken with my elder brother since his abrupt departure from his employment..."

Poliferus raised an eyebrow. He deeply considered telling Sierra about his contacts with Wolfe, but he didn't want to trouble her any more than she was. Life shouldn't be this troubling for her. As it was, Poliferus still had to send the latest reports to Wolfe, and had been on his way to do that when he'd been intercepted by Sierra. Not that he minded it, of course, but Wolfe needed to be aware of what was happening. The General went to answer, but instead found that another matter insisted on making itself known first.

Snyclair. Poliferus looked the man up and down, noting his lack of mourning clothes in-Lou of the usual colors adorned by those of any power. With a nod of satisfaction, the man welcomed his Captain back, but held up a hand for the man to wait.

"Sierra, darling," Poliferus spoke, turning to the girl, "Your brother is doing just fine. His swordsmanship has progressed extensively in the past few weeks. He truly is gifted, but what else should I expect from the esteemed Shaeffer house?" Poliferus offered an encouraging smile with that, winking playfully. "As far as Wolfe..." The man stopped, thinking a moment. He sincerely hated lying to the girl, but the times and situations, as well as the circumstances surrounding nearly everything, were far too delicate. Not to mention he had to be careful for the same reason she did of what he said. General or not, he would be monitored as well. "Latest reports reveal nothing new. Although he's still with Lady Dream and her rebels, I do believe there's a chance with him. He isn't stupid... I believe he has his own reasons which are entirely justified for leaving... Don't worry at all."

Patting Sierra on the shoulder he smiled again. "Why don't you run along and see if Alterez or Violet need anything of you? I'm sure that these missions as of late are entirely in the best interests of the kingdom. Trust your instincts, and don't second guess yourself. Alright?"

With that, Poliferus turned to Snyclair. "Proceed."


Kota & Lucie

Watching the girl, the head officer noted several more charges to be put on Lucie's record. Disorderly conduct for one, and for two, wearing purple when not affiliated to the monarchy or without holding any position of authority. Even though the officer was well acquainted with her, having always seen her around town and being kind enough to overlook previous excursions, if not for Lady Kota, he'd have had no other choice but to arrest her then and there. It wasn't always fun having to do these sorts of things, especially to friends or people he'd known for some time, but the man had learned to overlook his own feelings in order to perform his duty.

Blocking out Lucie's behavior and looking to Lady Kota, the main officer nodded respectively at her, both in agreement of her words, and at hear admirable loyalty to her friend.

"Yes, Lady Kota," the man said, keeping to his professional demeanor in the situation. "Your pardon has been acknowledged, and will be documented in the report. No fines will be administered, but all stolen items will have to be either returned, or paid for. All other complaints, however, will have to be addressed by yourself or the Queen. The people will not take kindly to a thief being granted protection under the law with the right to steal without being held responsible through proper courses of action. We will return to see that the terms have been adhered to."

The man waited a moment for his words to sink in, his eyes moving sternly between the two before him, ensuring that they understood. After a brief moment, he finally nodded, satisfied. "Excuse our interruption, and thank you for your time. Enjoy your day," he said finally, bowing one last time to Kota before exiting the small house, his men falling into step behind him.


Lady Dream, Captain Rubber, Star & Wolfe

Antorak smiled greedily as the entire bar seemed to stop with Wolfe's sudden outburst. The Sergeant tilted his head to one side, a single eyebrow raised in mock amusement as he considered the man's next words. With the same grin, he chuckled, beginning to shake his head, all eyes in the bar on either himself or Wolfe.

"My dear friend Wolfe, it's been too long!" he began, spreading his arms wide as if inviting him as an old acquaintance, "How are you? I'd assumed that someone so esteemed would have better things to do than seek allegiance amongst the midst of traitors... As for this unnecessary ruckus, it was in fact you rebels who decided you didn't want to come quietly." The man's gaze drifted over the room, noting several people stopped in the middle of a punch or other attack and one of his own men currently lying dead on the ground, a crossbow bolt having penetrated the steel over his chest. Antorak huffed a poorly feigned sigh of regret, clicking his tongue as if displeased...

"Tsk tsk," he said, looking at everyone present. "For those of you who took up arms against the rebels, you will be adequately rewarded. For those of you who chose to stand and fight against the law, against the authority of a Purplexian soldier, you will be punished in the same manner! If you indeed wished to go about this in a more civilized manner, I would have been more than happy! You all chose to throw the first punch and resist being arrested!"

Antorak looked to Wolfe now, brandishing his blade and leveling the tip with the man's chest. "I'll be sure to get a handsome promotion for this. Lady Dream, a notorious Pirate Captain... And a once exalted member of the Courts?" as he spoke, Antorak took the time to identify and point out each of his three targets. "This is quite a haul."

Swinging the weapon around in his grip and settling into a better stance, with his blade positioned directly in front of him in a dual grip, at waist level, Antorak smiled. "Forgive me, but you've missed all chance of civility. You'll come quietly, or I'll take you by force!" With that, the sergeant charged, moving in fast for an overhead diagonal chop from the left, followed by a reverse motion in the opposite direction. Using that as the signal, the bar attendees continued on with their combat, the noise quickly rising once again with the sounds of men bellowing their battle cries, the maids screaming, weapons clashing and bottles smashing. Most people were far too busy to notice anything beyond the immediate threat in front of them. Gregora used this chaos to escape out a rear entrance, planning to return near the end and, should Antorak succeed, claim his winnings.