View source for 3155/TMatM: Tale of a Clay Man

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/10/05
|Location=Planetary Plains
|Synopsis=The Mask of Falling Rain has fallen into the hands of a revolutionary.

Lancer finds a ghost of his own past in the town of Doncaster.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=7, 236, 883, 886
|Tinyplot=The Man and the Mission
|Tinyplot2=
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:883|Royce Artega (883)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It's a back water place. Far off the beaten track that trade follows. A poor community, where the well off press down on those beneath them, grinding them underfoot for their own comfort. It's from this place, that a report has come in. Of a man wearing a mask, and his crusade against the tyrants that stand over the lower classes.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The town isn't much to look at, but houses a good twenty thousand people. The 'Rich Quarter' sits in the center, electricity, water and other amenities and utilities running uninterrupted. The Middle and Low class quarters have their utilities cut after a certain curfew time, the middle allowed to keep theirs a bit longer. The slums surround these three, unpowered, rancid and decaying, where the homeless and destitute gather and huddle together for warmth.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Royce stands at the bridge terminal of the DSS Ganemede in orbit, coordinating with the various parties attending. "Royce to Union and Syndicate responders. I will be teleporting to these coordinates. Rendevous there and we will make a plan of action." he turns from the console and stalks through the ship to the teleporter, which sends him down to the surface.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:236|Auron (236)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Not being one who has capabilities of space travel, Auron's had to take warpgates and land transportation to get there. Possibly through Union-requisitioned transportation. But he will indeed get there. He manages not to be too late, but does arrive after Royce does.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Now, 'back water town' suits Auron just fine. It means he looks less out of place when he shows up looking like a cross between a Tibetan monk and a rogue samurai. Which is exactly how he shows up looking! Though his coat's unusually armored today, with metal plates along the crimson garment. It's different from his usual coat, but unless one knows him, one isn't probably going to notice it all that much.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; How many times has he walked streets just like this? How many times has he seen such a poor place, little better than slums for the common folk to go, beaten-down by the rich and powerful? Wallachia had been the same, when first he had returned to it. Still could he see in his mind's eye the beautiful snowy village, the poor and downtrodden crushed under the heel of those who believed that justice was a concept for other people. Still could he see the starving in the streets, dressed in rags, who looked upon their voivode with fear and suspicion. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; It made him very, very angry. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Nice place," Thomas von Richten Yggdmillennia says, breaking Lancer of Black from his thoughts. The tall, handsome Servant breaks his gaze away from one of the people, turning his eyes onto his Master. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Yes," says the Voivode, and means it, "It could be." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "You have that look in your eye that I don't like, Lancer," Thomas observes quietly, "This is just a job, right?" <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer's eyes sweep back over the streets as they walk towards the rendezvous point. He does not need to look for the broken who lurk in the darkness of the alleys between the streets. He knows they are there. He can paint them in his imagination, all in brown and tattered rags slick with dirt, grasping desperation with both hands and unwilling to let go. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer of Black's fingers tighten around his spear. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "It was," he agrees, "I am no longer certain that it is." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "We're not going to do anything stupid, are we?" Thomas inquires. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "There is a high chance, my servant, that we will." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Thomas sighs and scratches the back of his head, looking around. "Yeah...I thought as much." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Worry not, my ally. Whatever the outcome, know that justice here shall be done." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "That's what I'm afraid of," Thomas confirms.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>Kotone Yamakawa had picked up the job and was wary but it was needed she had the harsware for that and here she was to well come to see what she could do, it doesn't take too long for Kotone to beam down herself from the Bluenose and she's wondering just what she's got herself into it. She seems to be a bit pensive and is clad in a full body suit/armor of some sort. Also those with good perception would notice something's a bit off about her, the eyes, the face and what not. <br /><br /> "I'm ready to go here and the name's Kotone, Kotone Yamakawa." <br /><br /> Several small machines are with her and they take to the sky, they are basically remote camera drones she tends to use for scouting.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:883|Royce Artega (883)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Royce stands passively, holographic screens hanging in the air around him. To add to the atmosphere, fate seems to have deemed this a rainy day, the first few drops beginning to pitter pat around in the dank streets. "Thank you all for coming. With more people here, this will go much quicker."<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Royce looks Auron over, the Kotone. He recognizes her from previous encounters. Lancer and his Master are taken in next, then the mousy man nods. "I suggest we split up, and speak to the locals. The lower classes should know something. Do not venture to the rich quarter... we have contacted them and they have proven... uncooperative."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Of that I have no doubt," Lancer of Black replies, and Thomas looks away, staring very intently at the wall. The Servant lowers his head politely to the rest of the group, introducing himself as a matter of course. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I am Lancer of Black. This is my attendant, Thomas. It is my pleasure to work with you on this occasion." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He's tall and handsome, with a knightly bearing. His hair is as pale as moonlight, even the goatee wrapped about his chin, contrasting the blackness of his elegantly-tailored clothing. The spear slung over his shoulder is wicked and beautiful, sharpened as if by habit. He wears it and carries it openly, even in a place like this. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer turns away from the group, knuckles white around his spear as he heads towards the noble quarter. If they had already been contacted, then there would be no element of surprise. Besides, Lancer looked so terribly out-of-place in the poor quarter that no one there would trust him anyway. He was elegant and beautiful and clean, wearing jewelry and finely-tailored clothes and carrying a weapon that must've cost more than half the area on its own. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Lancer-" Thomas groans, then looks back at the group as the Servant heads directly into the wealthy quarter, "I'll...sorry. He's like that. Don't worry. We'll get you what you're looking for."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>Kotone Yamakawa says "Sounds like an idea, we'll need to keep in contact though." <br /><br /> She nods to Lancer and Thomas for a moment, she has heard of servants so she knows what's up with them in all likelyhood. <br /><br /> "A pleasure to meet you both." <br /><br /> Her drones fan out above teh settlment and will keep her informed about what they might spot. <br /><br /> "I"ll talk to the locals, and heh one percenters? Not shocking, sounds like the ones on my world. IF you need someone to sneak about there I can do that as well."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:236|Auron (236)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Auron looks to Royce as he's looked over, offering a nod of greeting. "Auron. Union Captain," he offers in introduction. Few words is the preferred method of communication it seems; Auron has no problem with that. Royce's suggestion to split up gets a nod, and Auron turns towards the poorer sections of the town. He's hoping that the appearance of wandering ronin will help him get into the better graces of the poor in the city.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:883|Royce Artega (883)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Royce sighs a little bit as he adjusts his glasses. Lancer would draw many eyes from all the people through the quarters. The Rich Quarter has guards, wearing modern armour and carrying automatic rifles. They stand in Lancer's way, leveling their weapons on him. "Halt! Noone enters without permission from the Govener." says one, his uniform baring a rank insignia of Sergeant.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Auron's presence seems to be a calming factor to Lancer's. Small groups of the downtrodden peek out of their homes, or around corners at his passing. None approach, however.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Kotone's free to do what she likes. Seek out the middle classers, talk to the poor or the homeless, or try to infiltrate the rich quarter while Lancer has the guards distracted.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:236|Auron (236)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Auron's posture probably helps in keeping the poor from running, too. It's a call back to before his... well, ordeal, at Mt. Ordeals. Where he laid his guilt and shame over Braska and Jecht to rest finally. His posture is head down and shoulders slumped. The plodding steps are those of a man who's used to walking long distances. He makes no secret of it -- just because he's armored and armed, that doesn't mean he has no experience with being poor.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But since they won't approach him, he has to approach them. He finds a place where the poor are gathered around a barrel for warmth and takes a few steps nearer. Though he keeps a respectful distance, not wanting anyone to think he was stealing their warmth. "Hello," he offers politely. "Might I trouble you for a bit of your time?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Distracted is a funny word. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "You men," Lancer demands, his voice the strong, confident voice of a nobleman, of a *leader*, of a man who has looked death in the eye many a time and at each confrontation it was death who turned away, "To whom is your loyalty pledged?" <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The thick Romanian accent, the terribly wealthy-looking black cloak, and the wicked-looking spear probably don't help matters. Lancer is intimidating and confident, with an atmosphere of being Rich and In Charge, and he clearly is not worried about guns (Servants almost never are.) <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer gestures with his spear, gesticulating like a king giving a speech. "Is it to the Governor? The man has used Justice as a cudgel, beating the poor and downtrodden to the ground without mercy for his own plate. Does that money find its way to you? Does he provide for your families, for your loved ones? Does he share the wealth he and his steal from you? Has he bought your loyalty, your lives, with promises of prosperity and joy?" <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer's lance swings backwards, pointing at the quarter. "Do you sleep well at night, with this place - this Hell upon the Earth - outside your walls, because you merely *follow orders*? Do you feel that your loyalty absolves you of your sins? Or do you perhaps, late at night, lie awake beside your wives and lovers, wondering if one day there will come a reckoning for your actions? Do your eyes grow dry as the night grows long, as anxiety fills your soul and brings you trembling to reach for what comfort you may have, be it bottle, blade, or bride?" <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer slams the lance down on the ground like a staff. "TELL ME!" He booms, his voice fierce and proud, "IS YOUR LOYALTY WORTHY? IS HE TO WHOM YOU HAVE PLEDGED YOUR LOYALTY BEYOND JUDGEMENT?" <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "HAVE YOU GUILT IN YOUR SOUL FOR THE EVILS YOU HAVE WROUGHT?" <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "IF SO - IF YOUR HEART POUNDS WITH GUILT, IF YOUR DREAMS ARE WRACKED WITH THE FACES OF THE CONDEMNED WHOSE EYES YOU STARE INTO EACH DAY - THEN THROW DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND MOVE ASIDE." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; His voice drops to a hush "For today has come a reckoning." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Thomas winces and gets behind a building. "Shit," he mutters, "Lancer...!"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>Kotone Yamakawa does wish to sneak about the rich quarter but for the moment it may not be the best idea for her right now she's going to head to the poor quarter to go snooping about and see if she can encoutner anyone who might know something about the murders, she also makes sure to have some money on her given she doesn't expect to get things for free either given the state for the poor there and she can't fault them for ir.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:883|Royce Artega (883)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Sergeant listens to Lancer, eyes unwavering. His men murmur a little but hold their ground. "Big words. But that's all you've shown us." he says calmly. He then tilts his head, speaking into a radio receiver. "Drop the hammer." There's a distant thumping sound... before Lancer's position is engulfed in mortar shells, explosions and shrapnel flying everywhere, with no regard for collateral damage.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Auron, meanwhile, finds three men huddling around a burning barrel. One spots his approach and gasps in a mix of awe and fright. "Wh-Who are you?" he asks, bringing the others attention to the Guardian. "Ain't givin' ya nuffin' fer free, squire. Cough up a bit o'gleam an' we'll talk." says another, a wizened old husk of a man, more bone than flesh.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Kotone would find much the same as Auron. Fearful peeking from doorways and around corners. She'll have to approach someone if she's to learn anything... Though a quick shadow darts from a corner, could just be a skittish local.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:236|Auron (236)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Auron nods, readily reaching into his coat for a tiny, bright little round gem about the size of a marble; it's clear, but a lively spark dances around inside. It's an Electro Marble, one of the items he keeps on his person. It has only small value in Spira, but perhaps it would be worth more here. "What about this?" he asks.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He's not sure Multiversal credits would be accepted here, especially if this is a relatively new world. Instead he hopes the Marble will fetch a handsome price for the old man, giving him the kind of currency this world favors.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Mortars. Lancer of Black has never heard that noise before, but he knows what it is. He is a creature of war, after all. He knows the sound of weapons, of killing tools. Gunpowder may have come after his time but the drums of war all sound alike. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The whistling of the shells is like arrows. They fall toward him, and he understands what they are in an instant. Explosives. Bombs. Something that will rip and tear and burn and destroy, will kill with impunity and bring pain and suffering inside the limits of a town. To loose such things upon a town, over words...! They were indeed mere words, but these men found them rattling enough to kill over. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; And therefore rattling enough to die over. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Impact. Explosions and smoke fill the air around Lancer. The shells rain down with a thud-thud-thud, blasting and smashing. The impacts shatter what little glass remains unbroken in the slums around him, tearing apart a little more of these peoples' beaten-down lives. Roofs collapse inwards. Buildings shudder, poorly-built that they already were. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Smoke curls around the area where Lancer was. Surely he's dead, right? Surely. Nothing could survive that. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Ha, ha, that's funny. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; There's no warning at all. There's no shaking ground, no quaking earth. There's no rumbling. There's no ominous feeling in the air. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But six stakes, long, wicked spears that look exatly like Lancer of Black's, emerge from the ground to skewer the sergeant in an instant. They are dreadful to look upon, as the stakes raise him high into the air for all to see. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; From the smoke, Lancer rises upon a tower of stakes. The broken, shattered remains of countless wooden spears are all around as the smoke is pierced through by the rising tower. Over his shoulder is slung his own spear, as he gazes imperiously down on the men below. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "You have chosen," comes his voice, full of venom, "Remember that, you sinners, who shield yourselves from your evils with gold, with false-bought loyalty, with ill-gotten gains and ill-intent. You have chosen, before God Most High, to shirk from your responsibilities, though you were given but one fleeting chance for mercy." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer walks forward, stakes emerging from the ground beneath him to form a stairway back to the ground. "You have *chosen*," Lancer hisses, "To bring more sin upon your hearts, unleashed weapons of war upon a town of your own volition, and with the blood of the innocent purchased for yourselves this reckoning." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Flee," he demands as he passes the skewered sergeant. The spears turn as he passes, displaying the man's final, horrible fate to the wealth quarter. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "If you are worthy of life then God Almighty will grant it to you! If you be unworthy, then I will *take* it from you!" <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The scene is horrible. Spears erupt from the ground, from the rooftops, from places stakes could not possibly emerge. They rip forth directly under the guards, or to the side of the guards, pinning them like butterflies to a page as Lancer walks forward, fury in his eyes. A single man is spared, the stake catching on his shirt before Lancer. Lancer reaches out with his spear and raises the man off the stake, bringing him close to Lancer's handsome, fury-twisted face. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I would like to speak to the governor," he says, his venomous voice still shockingly polite, "Would you be so kind as to grant me direction?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>Kotone Yamakawa is noticing that but she notices someone moving fast that does catch her attention and she's going to make after it she's quick, inhumanly so but she's not going to move to follow after them that fast unless they need to. "Hey wait up, I got a question for you!" It could be just someone whose skitish but you never know.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:883|Royce Artega (883)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yeah, that'll do nicely." says the man, holding a hand out to receive the item. He won't snatch it, as one may expect, but as he deposits the Electro Marble in his scant clothing, those eyes gleam with intelligence. "Whachya askin' then Squire? Y'not from 'round here, so I's 'spectin' it's 'bout them murders up in't the rich folks bit." he surmises, leaning forward with his elbows resting upon his knees. "I dunno much 'bout it meself, but I /do/ know a chap who might be able t'help ye." he gestures Auron in closer. "'is name, be Buck Langsfield, an' 'e lives up in't Middle quarter. Number twenty three." A hint of bitterness crosses his face, but it passes quickly. "If ye do go see 'im, tell 'im ol' Creig's still kickin'."<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lancer's response catches the guards off... well, guard. Some turn to flee immediately after the Sergeant is impaled, only to fall victim to the same fate. Others backpedal and open fire with their rifles, only to meet the same fate as their comrades. The sole survivor is so terrified his trousers turn a darker colour as his bladder empties. He manages to stammer out an address, which at a glance should be pretty obvious. It's the City Hall, the biggest building in the town and far more grand than even the other Rich Quarter housing.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Kotone's quick follow manages to keep track of the figure, for a while before it vanishes into the labirynth of the slums. Just as she might give up, a smooth male voice comes from a shadow. "You have no business here, turn back... though your friend seems to be doing me job for me right now... a pity about the guards, they were following orders out of fear... the Sergeant though... he got what he deserved."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Why thank you," comes Lancer's remarkably polite response. He removes the man from his spear, setting him down deftly in front of him. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I see that for you, your loyalty is not strong enough to die for. That is so very wise of you. Run to the poor quarter, fall to your knees, and beg them for forgiveness. Place your fate in the hands of those you have wronged, and pray that they will be merciful. It is, I will grant, a gamble. But..." Lancer purses his lips, "Were it *my* decision, I would assuredly gamble the possibility of life over the assurance of death." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "And if you do anything else...like, say, attempt to flee for your life...I promise you, I will know. Forgiveness is divine...but *I* am not." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; With that, Lancer strolls into the rich quarter, leaving behind him the impaled guards and the countless stakes. He walks through the streets, heedless of anyone on his path to the city hall. Soldiers get skewered, either by his own spear or the stakes that rip from the ground. Lancer of Black walks as though he owns the city. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He comes to the doors of the hall, a scowl etching itself upon his face. Opulent. Large enough to house countless poor. Undoubtedly full of slaves, soldiers, and retainers whose misfortune was pledging loyalty to a pig. It was like looking at his own castle, when he had returned from his imprisonment, and once again the flashes of memory raise his hackles. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Servant strength is many times that of a human being. With a simple motion, the door cracks, and he opens it casually and strolls inside. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Permit me an audience with the governor," Lancer of Black observes in his refined, rolling accent, "For I have urgent matters to speak of him with and very little time to waste upon him."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:236|Auron (236)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Auron nods. "That's exactly what I'm wondering about, yes," he replies. Refreshingly to the nub of the matter. Auron leans a little closer when prompted to, and listens to the information. "Thank you," he offers, standing straight. "I ge tthe feeling there's a little more to it than what's being said, at least between the two of you. But I'll let him know." Once he's said his farewells, Auron will head to the middle-class sector.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Here, his demeanor changes. He's been poor, but he's also been respected. So he straightens his posture here; it's the stance of a man who's supporting himself with hard work and is proud of it. He's looking for number 23.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>Kotone Yamakawa halts for a moment as she tilts her head a little bit "Really? I came to ask some questions. Really what's that job that you intend to do. I'm not just going ot be bulled out of the job I'm here to do. I'm here to find out what is going on with the murders." <br /><br /> The cyborg is not hostile but she's not going to let herself get bullied about this either to be perfectly honest. She is curious though and she's having her remote drones get passes over the rich part of town and the poor section she's in as now.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:883|Royce Artega (883)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lancer's route is unblockaded. What guardsmen survived the initial assault, witnessed the sheer power of the Servant, and wisely fled. Whether to the poor quarter, or for their lives is a moot point. The man the Servant captured, does exactly as he's told, discarding everything of his position, offering it to those in the poor quarter. He's a fearful wreck, and fully expects to be beaten to death for his role in the subjugation of the poor... but a family look at this man. They see a reflection of themselves, everything taken from them... and so, they show mercy, taking him in and sharing what scant resources they have.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Auron's trip to the middle quarter is uneventful. The address is easily found, the lights are still on, and a knock at the door earns a quick response from a teenaged girl, about 14 or 15, with dirty blonde hair and piercing green eyes. "Oi't there guv? Whatchyer wantin' at this time?" she asks in a thick accent. "Me dad's out at th'moment if'n that's who yer afta."<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Kotone finally comes face to face with the owner of the voice. A tall man, dressed in a black long coat with a broad brimmed hat atop his head. Dark brown hair falls from beneath this hat, and the striking part, is the mask he wears. A smiling visage that seems both cruel and kind at the same time. Blue scanlines of circuitry run across the surface, filled occasionally by scrolling blue mathematical formulae, numbers, algebraeic lettering, scientific notation and other symbols. The mask's effect would kick in once looked at. The man would immediately seem completely non-threatening, even as he stalks over with a large knife held in his hand. "Bullied? Oh my dear, I do not bully. I freely admit, I was the one who murdered those rich sychophants, each one a stepping stone to the lynch pin, the head honcho, the big cahoona himself, The Gouvener." he stops outside of striking range, and twirls his weapon nonchalantly. "Though I suppose, since your friend is making it his job to dethrone the tyrant, I could just put away the mask and help rebuild... but what do you think?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:236|Auron (236)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Ah, here's the address. He does indeed knock. And when the girls answers, he offers a polite nod. "I'm looking for a man named Buck Langsfield... is that your father? I had a message for Mister Langsfield, and wanted to ask him a few questions." He's keeping his demeanor as nonthreatening as possible.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer of Black is unhappy. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The Servant shoves his way into the palace without problem, heedless of the sins of the young man and the family that spares him. That is beyond his hand now, in the palm of the Divine. It might please him to know that, before his brutality, mercy was found, and God's grace was discovered, but that isn't for him to learn, not now. Now, he has a purpose. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer strolls casually through City Hall. He admires the decor, stopping every so often to appreciate certain elements. Here, he pauses to admire a statue. There, he halts to take in a vase. His eye for art is, after all, that of a nobleman, trained and raised for such things, and he has all the time in the world, as far as he's concerned. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; It's not as if any of these people are a threat to him so far. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Eventually, Lancer of Black makes it to wherever the governor is, presumably some manner of throne room. The Voivode of Wallachia surveys his surroundings thoughtfully. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Who among you," Lancer says, "Claims responsibility for this city?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>Kotone Yamakawa is looking at the man for a moment she pauses seeing the mask she confesses to the murder and she hakes he rhead a little bit. There's a fog but she seems to be pushing through it something does not seem right about it and she looks a bit on edge as she looks the man over she does not move to well make a hostile move yet. <br /><br /> "So your the killer and why did you do it? You did it to what change the world here? Enact a new order?" <br /><br /> She's trying to stall a bit as she attemps to figure out what to do here...<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:883|Royce Artega (883)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The girl nods. "That's me dad, yeah. You don't look like one'a them rich quarter jackarses. 'e said 'e 'ad some errands t'run before curfew, so should be back before dark." she replies, hands on hips. "I ain't gonna offer ya in, so beat it." she adds after that, before moving to close the door.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Gouvener is here. Informed by some fleeing servant/slave. His personal bodyguard form up quickly, sporting glowing power armour and what might be laser weaponry. Pulsing red lines running across all the equipment. "That'd be me." says a surprisingly thin man, standing passively behind a large desk. "I would invite you in, but you have already made yourself at home. But please, join me for a glass of wine." he says, gesturing to the sealed bottle and two glasses set on the table by a slender girl in what could be a night gown and not much else. "Tell me, why have you broken into my city? Killed my men? Is it because you find my control distasteful?"<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"A new order, where the PEOPLE decide their fate for themselves, unfettered by the iron will of a tyrant. I am a force for rebellion." he says, then sheaths the knife somewhere under his coat. "However, as I said, your friend is doing my work for me, so how about I make a deal with you?" he leans in, his eyes barely visible behind the mask's eye holes. "Let me go, let me make this city a better place, and I will give you the /real/ reason offworlders are here." he thumbs to the mask as emphasis.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:236|Auron (236)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Auron turns back to the city as the door closes. Well, that was a dead end. The girl just said 'errands', and nothing else. No clues for a continued search, so he's at an impasse. He can only hope the others fared better.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Your hospitality is most appreciated." Lancer of Black's tone, at least, is as refined as he himself. He casts a displeased glance at the serving girl, then sits at the table, every image the perfect gentleman. He gestures for the girl to pour for the governor first out of politeness, leaning forward. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Yes," he tells the Governor simply, "I do." Lancer is not a man who wastes time with words if he doesn't need to, evidently. He takes his own glass and sniffs it, largely to determine the vintage rather than hunt for poison - poison that could kill a *Servant* would have to be some pretty fierce stuff, after all. When he finds it acceptable, he takes a sip and nods, setting it back on the table. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "You are not the first man I have seen granted power over others, and you are not the first of those men to abuse it. I have seen it many times in my life, in my own country, among those I myself entrusted with power." Lancer takes a sip of his wine again. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "And like so many others you displease me. You have taken justice and the law and warped it into something that serves only you and yours." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer swishes the glass, staring into it. He is every bit the image of Dracula, the Vampire Count, in that moment - red liquid sloshing in the glass, swirling lightly in between two pale and slender fingers as his hand rests against his cheek like a languid thing. "You have squeezed these people dry and brought ruin to this town. Your men opened fire with powerful weapons inside your town, without regard to the lives of your citizens." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I do not, in fact," Lancer looks languidly over his glass, with the gaze of a predator locking onto its prey, "Believe that you see those people as citizens at all. To you they must be more like vermin, or toys." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer snaps the glass. It shatters, spilling red wine down his fingers, though he appears to be unharmed. "Were it my decision alone I would run you through in this instant and let them watch you die, slowly, as you deserve." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "But," Lancer adds, reaching for a napkin to calmly wipe way the wine, "I am a man of God. I am an instrument of His divine will. Murder is not justice, no matter how it is justified." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Therefore I shall give you this chance." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer crosses his legs, one finger against his cheek, the other on the chair. "Abdicate your throne. Turn it over to me, that I may right what you have done wrong and then grant it to one I deem worthy to shepherd these people. Leave the town. Take what you need to reach the nearest city and buy a house there, and live a modest life. Do this, and I will not pursue you. You will live, and be forgiven by God Almighty." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "If you choose not to do this, I will kill you. It will not be fast. It will not be merciful. It will not be kind. I will skewer you upon countless stakes and hoist you behind the throne as I sit upon it, and call the people in to see the fate that awaits all who bring pain and injustice within my lands - whether they are rich or poor, of noble blood or common spawn."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>Kotone Yamakawa looks at the man in the mask and she fights off the mental fod as she looks at him for a moment she tilts her head. It's a tempting offer but no she doesn't trust it the methods as scary as Lancer of Black has been she's also got a different vibe off the man than this one. She looks at him. <br /><br /> She also uses her cyber comm to contact her allies via radio. <br /><br /> &lt;&lt;I have found the killer and the mask and it's making my head a bit fuzzy. He claims he was trying to force a rebellion and wants to cut a deal to be let go he's also offering to hand over the mask I think.&gt;&gt; <br /><br /> She seems lost in thought to the man as she's on the radio witht he other. <br /><br /> "So your saying we let you go, you give us the mask and we never hear from you again?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:883|Royce Artega (883)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Auron's path is a dead end. A pity. Perhaps he could join one of the others. Positional data /is/ being fed to them via Kotone's drones, through Royce acting as the ACC(Area Command and Control).<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lancer's words fall on unresponsive ears, or so it seems. The Gouvener sips his wine delicately, looking down into the swirling red liquid for a long few moments after Lancer finishes speaking. "You offer a very valid point." he says after a time, earning a few confused glances from his bodyguards. "Though if I step foot outside of this building, my life is forfeit regardless. Many wish me dead." he looks up, meeting Lancer's intense gaze with one equally so. "You cannot guarantee my safe passage from this town. Your Justice would prevent you." Standing, and turning to the guard to his right. "Gather the men. Load a wagon with enough to get myself and my wife to Langston. Your final task in my employ will be to escort me to the town border. Then disband." the Gouvener turns back to Lancer. "I've grown tired of squeezing. Tired of clawing at this town, trying to maintain control. If you can do a better job of it, then I hope your God smiles on you." He turns and leaves the office, the bodyguard hustling to do their final task, leaving Lancer alone with the servant girl, who looks entirely bemused.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Mask Wearer waits passively, straightening up, and stepping back. "Indeed. I will not even attempt to take power. That is not my cause. My goal, is to have the people lead themselves, under someone we can trust if needs be, elected by their peers. Democracy, a republic, anything would be better than this dictatorship we suffer beneath."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:886|Lancer of Black (886)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer's eyes are unwavering. He is not surprised the man chose life. He simply lowers his head, nodding in assent. He has no problem with the man preserving his own life. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "You have been a man who has brought tragedy to this town. But I have known many men without the fortitude to take responsibility for their actions."." Lancer stands and places his hand on the man's shoulder for a brief moment. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "May God Almighty grant you safe passage, and may He find your life righteous from this day on." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lancer watches the man go before he turns to the slave girl. His gold eyes turn soft, though they're still terribly predatory - he can't really help being sort of dangerous. "Please, my dear. Go to your family. If you have no family, take some clothes from the wardrobe, and feel free to use whatever room you wish." <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Then he picks up on the radio. He looks off, watching the governor leave. <br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &lt;&lt;Then you may tell him that it is no more. Lancer of Black has taken this town, and will see justice done to all. The governor leaves, peacefully, of his own will, by my blessing and the mercy of God Almighty. The revolution has come and gone, and I will make this town resplendent with the shining light of God.&gt;&gt;<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>Kotone Yamakawa does not seem happy about this but well it seems to be a way out ot stop the madness she doesn't like it but well she's with the union on this job so she'll respect thier planning. <br /><br /> &lt;&lt;I understand. <br /><br /> "One of our number has conviced the ruler of this plac eis no more. He's leaving of his own will peacefully to never return here. Lancer of Black intends to aid the town in rebuilding and finding it's path once it's back on it's feet. He seems he is ready to accept your deal if you turn the mask over and depart as you said."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>Kotone Yamakawa pauses for a moment adding "Also leave the man whose been conviced to give up his power without any more fight be. It's over all of this is over."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:883|Royce Artega (883)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Masked Man tilts his head to one side. "Leaving? Pah, too good of a fate for him, but I saw what he did to the guardsmen. I will not tempt fate by defying someone that powerful." he reaches up, undoing the fasteners on the mask, and removing it, which causes the tracery of circuits to extinguish immediately. "I believe you have a fourth person in your entourage. He was looking for this, so if you take me to him, I would like to hand it over directly."<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The man is average, not handsome, nor ugly. He's got a scar over his left eye, but it isn't blind. He keeps hold of the mask, and passively waits for Kotone to lead him to Royce.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:7|Kotone Yamakawa (7)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>Kotone Yamakawa says "It's best that it ends here or it will just keep going. Your goal is successful the city shall be rebuilt. Come I'll take you to them to turn it over." <br /><br /> Kotone will lead the man to come with her an she will still be wary, not insulting or foolish but she's going to watch for trouble and ensure she and her charge are able to get to the party without incident and she'll make sure that no further killings on either side happen as well.<br> <br>


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