Atharen, A Fantasy Roleplay Forum

6th of Frost, 120

It was with exhaustion and pain that Arkash climbed the stairs of the underground headquarters. Blood dripped from the edges of his form while he leaned on the wall for support. The rifle that weighed on his back was no exception, as it was also matted and stained with the lifeforce of his foes. Everyone in that facility, though he'd suffered for it, had perished by his claws. The graze of crossbow bolts on his thigh and bicep, the shallow stab of a bolt in his forearm, a slash across his chest, and several burns all over his head, arms, and shoulders.
The leathers that covered his form had melted in patches, and the fur that lined the rims of his apparel had been singed. Yes, one of the men there, a Jindai, had set Arkash on fire. To put himself out, he split the Jindai's neck and doused the flames in blood. He normally wasn't so careless in his attacks, his assassinations, but he hadn't known of a people that could breathe fire before that day.
A thin, tapering stream of crimson pooled around his foot claws as he ascended the old, wood-paneled staircase, though he spared it not so much as a glance as he approached the landing. At the top of the stairs was a short runway, a tall wooden door, and a Jindai that was missing half their head. That was Arkash's first victim that day, a simple pop of his pistol killed the giant instantly. Arkash drew a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled just as deeply though his mouth. The scent of death clung to his nose and palette. The metallic stink of copper blinded his senses, but it was a comfortable blindness. Warm, muggy, quiet. His job was done, he could rest easily knowing that.
That was until the boom of firing rifles stirred him from the trance he'd slipped into. Screams ensued, along with the bark of orders. Something was happening on the streets, something startling, something terrible. The sounds ran shivers down Arkash's spine, and brought his blood to curdle while his heart beat quickly. Instinct told him to run, to find a place to hide and weather the storm. But his conscious mind stood firm. With a deep breath, Arkash approached the door and unlocked the latches with a hurried, panicked shake to his claws.
When the door opened, the shriek of hollows and barked orders roared over the ambient screams of the downtrodden, and shook Arkash at his core.
Those things. Those monsters always frightened him. He hated them with every fiber of his being, but they were endless in number and covered the grounds of the higher districts infinitely. He could never eradicate them or be free of their screams. He ultimately had to face the terror they imposed, but Arkash wasn't brave enough. Just one shriek was enough to stop him in his tracks. Just one hollow was all it took.
"FIRE!" Rang a voice from beyond the alley, followed by the spray of gunfire. Arkash ducked and covered his head at the sound. His body soock while his form surged with adrenaline. Someone had launched an organized attack on Lower Nivenhain. The Argent Knighthood? They owned the hollows and the guns both.
Arkash carefully rose from behind a broken crate in the snowy alley, then strafed back to the hidden door of the bloodstained compound before his claws fumbled over a broken plank that laid buried in the icy quilt. His eyes fell on his feet in shock and despair before he glanced back up. The firing squad was there in the street, and one of the knights looked in his direction.
Quick as a flash, Arkash disappeared into the doorway of the headquarters once more. He stayed there in the muggy, bleeding warmth of the tomb he'd created, and held his breath. Did the knight see him? Had the knight's eyes adjusted to the shade of the alley? He couldn't be sure of the answer, not until the sound of sabatons crunching snow filled his non-existent ears. The knight was approaching, walking down the alley without caution. The rathor's heart sank. The click and clank of his armor rang loud in the rathor's ears and forced Arkash's hand to his hip of its own volition.
The argent stepped to the doorway, and turned to lift his rifle at the dark of the hall, only to meet the barrel of Arkash's pistol point blank. The lizard extended his arm and leg to the walls of the hall to support his bodyweight while his free arm held the gun at the argent's eye level. Without a second thought, Arkash squeezed the trigger and launched the bullet directly into the space between the knight's eyes. The impact of the bullet snapped the argent's gaze upward and pushed their head back. The booming clang, akin to the toll of a bell, was the sound of Arkash's bullet striking the argent's helm.
The recoil that came with holding the weapon in such a fashion knocked Arkash from his place between the two walls and dropped him on his side with a muffled thud. The dead Jindai broke his fall, but the Argent wasn't so fortunate, as they fell backward and hit the ground in such a way that knocked the helmet from their mangled head. Arkash caught his breath for a moment or two before he clambered to his feet and ejected the empty shell in his pistol. The rath peered around the corner while he caught his breath, and found that the firing squad had moved on down the street somewhere, he could hear the barks of orders and the like, but they weren't there with him, which was cause to sigh with relief.
Quickly, he dashed and began to look over the fallen Argent. He gathered as many shells as he could, then loaded his pistol and rifle both to their maximum capacities, then bared his teeth and ran out onto the street. The screams of the nameless echoed all around him, and the hacking and slashing of meat served as a reminder of the force and danger that rampaged where he stood. All around him was violence; men, women and children being cut down indiscriminately of their race. The stink of blood, piss and vomit accompanied the image as Arkash drank all the stimuli he could with his widened yellow eyes. It was a slaughter. The Argent were culling them.
His haze fell upon a mother and her son as a Knight closed in with their blade raised overhead. On impulse alone, Arkash lifted the pistol in his claws, aimed, then fired. The thud of his bullet struck the Argent's helmet and knocked the man off balance. It hadn't so much as dented the metal, but the force of a strike like that was surely ringing in the knight's head. While the man staggered, Arkash dropped his pistol and slung his rifle into his claws. The stock fell into the hold of his armpit almost naturally, and his left arm lifted to aim down the sight while his right squeezed the trigger. A second blast struck the argent, and flung the plated human to the ground with a sizeable dent in the side of their helm. The visor was crumpled on one side, half-blinding the knight and robbing them of their depth perception.
It wasn't enough; the argent still lived. With his teeth bared, Arkash slung the rifle over his back, then bolted for the floored man.
The woman and her son both were in panic-driven tears as they watched the scene, and the mother covered the boy's eyes as Arkash leaped, aimed, and drove the point of his knife into the eye of the argent's visor. His claws stayed still there, holding the dead argent in place while he breathed the smell of fresh blood.
For all his injuries and pain, Arkash was alive in that moment. He was alight like the starry night sky physically and mentally. Wild, narrow eyes peered to the woman and her boy with a violent snap of his head. "Gerr'in th' Alley!" He ordered with a fling of his arm, which ripped the gore-spattered dagger from the argent's face with a spray of red. Without a word, the woman collected her son, covered him with her form and bolted to the directed alley.
Two. Two argent had fallen to his claws. They were sloppy, almost unprepared by the way the men felt. Obviously, they entered lower Nivenhain expecting a bloodbath. Though they were right to expect smooth sailing, there were sharks in the waters. Arkash had already tasted blood and was out for more.

Alexander got off the elevator, as he made his way toward the exit of the building, the clerk looks up from whatever he is doing and motioned him to come over. Alexander sighed. He then made his way to the clerk.

“What is it?”

“Got a delivery for you.” The clerk replied as he handed a blank playing card.

“At this hour? Bloody fuck, hit the jackpot ain’t I?”

The clerk scoffed then goes back to whatever he was doing. Alexander stepped out of the building, he saw a carriage nearby with the driver leaning on the nearby lamp post and smoking. He could saw the skull and cross-bone tattoo on the driver’s right wrist.

“You got any passenger?”

“Bugger off mate, I ain’t working.” The driver replied

Alexander pulled out the blank playing card and subtly showed it to the driver.

“Well, fuck.” The driver went and unlock the door of the carriage then he climbs the driver’s seat. “Where to?”

“The Redoubt.”

After almost half an hour of riding, the carriage came to a halt. Alexander peered through the curtains.

“We’re here.” The driver said as he pounded on the roof of the carriage. Alexander step outside and was greeted with the cold Frost wind. He entered the Obsidian Redoubt and made his way to the second floor of the building. After a few moments of walking, he arrives at the end of the hallway. He took out the blank playing card and slid it under the door, then he knocked. After a few moments, he could hear the door unlocked.

“Hey, newbie.” Solomon greeted him. Alexander instinctively placed his hand inside his pants pocket and grab the punching-dagger.

“Death is the only way out,” the man at the table said as he finished writing on his small notebook and closed it. He then looked up at Alexander. “Ah, Cross. Perfect timing, we’re just talking about you. Make yourself comfortable. Rum or wine?”

“It depends,” Alexander replied as he stood his ground. His right hand still clutching the punching-dagger in his pants pocket.

The man looked at Alexander then looked at Solomon. The realization hits him. He laughed then grab a bottle of wine and placed it on the table.

“Ah yes, well, it’s just a coincidence that everything lined up perfectly like this.”

“Perfectly? Summoned in the middle of the night to your office only to find that one of the Intelligence Division’s Reaper is present and not just any Reaper.”

Solomon and the man looked at each other then laughed. “I told you, geezer, nobody in their right mind would be calm in this situation. Look at the newbie, hand clenched tightly on his punching-dagger. Unlike the others.”

The man pulled out the gun from under his desk and placed it on the desk. Alexander pulled his hand out of his pocket and reach for his flask inside his coat’s pocket.

“I’ve heard of your progress from Solomon. He told me that you could be beneficial to us, especially with your skillset.”

“So what’s with all the precautions in place?” Alexander replied as he took a sip from his flask?

“Whatever do you mean?”

“The clerk was armed, that guy is never armed. The two carriages following my carriage. Not to mention the driver, he was one of Spade’s huntsmen, isn’t he? And the guards in the hallway, they’re not your regular Argent-Knights, aren’t they? What is happening? Somebody trying to assassinate the king?”

The man laughed. “Well, not that. But it’s an operation quite as big as that, and have been planned for quite a while. It would take place in Lower Nivenhain a few hours from now. We will piggyback on the Argent’s operation to do a little house cleaning of our own. You’ll be assigned to a squadron of Argent-Knights.”

“Impersonating an Argent-Knight is a crime,” Alexander replied.

The man took out a small box from one of the drawers and placed it on the table. He opened the box, inside it is a badge. “This is as close as what you could get to the keys to the kingdom. Showed it if any Argent’s hassle you. A taste of the powers that could be yours. I’ll be waiting for the report by the end of the day.” The man replied as he took out the badge and handed it to Alexander.

“Don’t even think about it newbie” Solomon said.

“And risk having you come after me? No way.” Alexander replied as he took the badge and pocketed it. He then took another sip from his flask.

“Here’s the list.”

“That’s quite the list.”

“Picture this newbie. Hollows and Argents throughout Lower Nivenhain. Be creative.”

Alexander sighed as he took another sip from his flask. “So, do you think I could get one of those armors on loan too?”

“Impersonating an Argent-Knight is a crime.” The man replied

“Well, I’d settle for that,” Alexander replied as he looked at the gun on the table.

“You know how to use this thing?”

“Just point and shoot right?”

Solomon laughed, "If it’s that easy, anybody could use it then."

A sequence of knocks at the door could be heard. “Well, I guess you better get going Cross.” The man replied as he holstered his gun.

Alexander stood up and made his way to the door.

“Oh and one more thing, don’t bring shame to the family’s name.”

Alexander made his way outside followed by Solomon.

“Hey, newbie, the guard’s gonna show you which squadron you will be in. You're paying for tonight.”

Alexander followed the guard to the courtyard. He was shown to the squadron that he will be joining.

“Errant, where do you think you are going!” The Argent-Knight shouted as Alexander arrive.

“Apparently here,” Alexander replied as he showed the badge.

The Argent-Knight spits on the ground. “If you come home in a body bag it’s on you.”

The Argent-Knights and their Hollow didn’t waste time, they flooded Lower Nivenhain like waters pouring from a broken dam. Nobody was prepared for this. It was a bloodbath. Hollows shrieking, orders being shouted. Men, women, and children aren’t spared from the onslaught. The Hollows advanced on the Nameless like a raging fire, consuming everything in their path. Alexander broke off from his squadron and made his way to the targeted compound. He was quite sure that the inhabitants of the compound were either in hiding or the Hollows got to them first. As he enters the alley near the targeted compound he saw an Argent-Knight dead.

“Bloody fuck those bastards still alive?” Alexander pulled out his punching-dagger. Nobody in the Lower Nivenhain would be fully armored and ready for this. He paused then he looked back at the fallen Argent-Knight. What the fuck could have done that to him? He thought to himself as he picked up the Argent-Knight’s rifle. He opened a window portal to get a better look at the inside. All he could see were dead bodies.

“Bloody fuck, they put up a fight.” Alexander slings the rifle then he pulled out his punching-dagger. “Great, reminds me of Ad Mora. Dark, bloody, and Dranochs hiding in the darkness.” He enkindled his punching-dagger to get a better view in the dark, and in case anything tries to attack him from the dark. He counted the bodies and referring back to the list, he looked for the target with the descriptions listed. “Ah, the good thing, got my work cut out for me,” He said to himself as he stood upon the corpse and pulls out a notebook. He crossed the name on it. He exits the building then took out his flask.

“The things we did for our country.” He said to himself. He went back to the Argent’s corpse and look for his tag. He pockets the tag then he stood up and was about to go to the streets when he looked back at the corpse of the Argent. Well, might as well put it to good use, almost the same size anyway. Alexander thought to himself as he dragged the Argent-Knight’s corpse inside the building. After several grueling minutes, Alexander steps out of the building in the Argent’s armor. Well, let’s hope whatever did the poor bastard in didn’t find me. Alexander thought to himself as he made his way to the next targeted place.

The sword came at him from overhead with a distinct whistle that accompanied the human's roar. To avoid the swipe, Arkash closed into the knight that wielded the weapon and struck at the plate armor with his knife, but the steel was far too thick. His strike bounced off the metal without so much as a scratch. Meanwhile, the Argent caught his weight after throwing his strength into the strike, then drove his plated knee at the rathor.
Like a leaf on the wind, Arkash wove to the side, turned to put his back to the argent, and span to face the armor-clad knight with a broad swing of his dagger. That time, he drove the point toward the argent's side, but the attack was again deflected by the thickness of the plate. As Arkash's claws recovered from the vibration that accompanied a broken strike, the Argent swung their fist to backhand Arkash, and only just barely caught the rath.
The space around him echoed with a crack as the knight struck him with enough force to snap his head aside, and knocked the rathor flat to the floor. Fluid ran from his nose and blinded his strongest sense. Arkash peered through his hazy eyes to spy the argent as they came in quickly with a broad swing of their blade, and struggled to pull away before the hit could land, all too late.
But Arkash remained in one piece. It was the argent's blade that was rent in two, as it struck a glowing, amber greatsword that interjected the strike. Following up with the confusion, Asmodei, the towering Velsign drove his shoulder into the argent's helm and knocked the sense out of the man.
The rathor blinked in disbelief; he was mere inches from losing a large chunk of his body. If it hadn't been for the black-winged velsign, Arkash would have perished at the blade of the Argent. "Az!" He called, then lifted his claws to his nostrils as they ran blood and nasal fluid.
"Get up, Ark!" Called the Velsign as he swung for the shorter knight. Despite the weight of their armor, the knight evaded the heavy strike with apparent ease. Trails of embers followed in a streak as Asmodei missed the swipe, but not enough to cause any damage to the argent. In fact, the knight was still plenty spry enough to strike Asmodei with their gauntlet-clad fist, and robbed the velsign of their breath at the thundering clang.
Through the pain, Arkash scrambled to his feet and kicked through the dirt-plastered stone as he lunged at lightning speeds at the velsign. Like a tensed coil, he sprung off Asmodei's raised arm and poised his dagger to strike as he propelled himself at break-neck speeds toward the knight.
The knight shot out their arm to grip the rath, but Arkash took their wrist first to direct the momentum of his body through his feet, which carried on past the argent's helmet and draped half his body over the man's shoulder before Arkash allowed the flow of his body to follow by releasing the Argent's wrist. He'd effectively used the knight's body as an anchor to channel his momentum behind the towering armor-clad human.
There, Arkash attempted to drive his dagger into the knight's eye, but the man caught him. An ungodly tight grip squeezed Arkash's wrist and strained his grasp to open. His dagger fell to the floor as he cried out in pain. He could feel his bones straining beneath the weight of the argent's grip; he fully expected to have his wrist broken in the coming seconds... But before such harm came of him, a mass of searing metal ripped through the argent's back in a burst of burning, smoking gore.
The argen'ts hold fell limp, and he released the rathor to hold his chest while Asmodei held the knight up by the hilt of his enkindled greatsword. Arkash startled and fell from the argent's back, then hissed as he flexed his fingers. Was it broken? No. If it was, it wasn't broken enough, as he could still move his fingers and roll his wrist. "Az..." Arkash spoke again while he caught his breath.
The Velsign lowered the body to the floor and slid the weight of the human from his blade. Immediately, the burning cracks in the metal receded to hide the false-argent's sigilic pyromancy.
"Arkash," spoke the dark guardian unamused. Arkash could already hear the lectures, the warnings, and words of disappointment flowing from the man's lips beneath his helmet, though the velsign had yet to speak a word that wasn't the rathor's name. "We need to go," declared the tower in the field of gore. "Fayeth agrees, there's nothing to stay behind for."
Arkash stared wildly at the man and shook his head. before directing his shaky, pained claws to the left. Two men emerged from the rubble of an alleyway from where Arkash pointed. They were the men he'd saved by engaging the knight. "I can't," Arkash spoke in vithmi. "You and Fayeth are always yapping off about how the rich are to blame for all the evil in the world, we can't just abandon the fight against them."
"What fight, Arkash?" Azmodei extended his gauntlet to the scene, to the bodies of the slaughtered peasants that littered the streets around them. "This is a CULLING, Ark! They're BUTCHERING the nameless!"
"We can save some!" Arkash snarled with a curl of his muzzle that bared his teeth.
"What did I miss?" spoke a more feminine voice as her quiet footsteps drew near. Fayeth, the pale Sil'norai of dark hair and blood-red eyes presented herself with blood-smeared blades and clothes alike. Arkash and Asmodei looked at her in tandem, but Asmodei beat the rath to the race of words.
"Arkash wants to stay and fight," the false argent declared with heavy disapproval.
Fayeth simply rose her brows with the beginnings of a smile. It seemed as though she was in one of her more patient moods. "Oh?" She asked as she took a step toward the floored rath, then lowered into a crouch to set herself eye level with the lizard. "Why, Ark? You know how tough an Argent is, and let's not even start on their pets..."
Hollows. Fayeth knew how he behaved around them. Arkash scoffed, then pointed to the two men he'd almost died saving. "Cause of 'em!" he returned in common. "We can' jus' run an' watch all th' naemless die. If we dun' taek a stand now, no'un eva' will!" They had to set an example, draw a line in the sand. If they could show the nameless that the argent could be fought, even won against, there was hope for a better future. "We need t' saev 'em, Fayeth..." he started, almost pleading. Ultimately, he needed her support if he was to convince Asmodei, as the man did whatever Fayeth said.
Fayeth smiled warmly, then ran her pale hand over the rathor's scaled, bloody shoulder. Arkash hissed, for it was sore and badly burned. Fayeth frowned and withdrew her hand. "Idiot, you're wounded."
"Balls t' that," he spat, then clambered to his feet with a stumble. "I've 'ad worse."
Fayeth shook her head, then shut her eyes and smiled pleasantly. "Alright... What's your plan?" She asked as she rose to tower above the lizard from her crouched position.
The rath's eyes were alight with hope. Fayeth wanted to help, she wanted to do the right thing. "The sewa's," he declared. "You an' Az hang aroun' th' man'ole, saev o'ever 'ew can an' hide 'em ther'. I'll be prowlin', guidin' fellas to 'ew," he declared with a bow of his head.
Fayeth seemed to think for a moment, then widened her smile. "Sounds like a plan; good thinking, Ark."
"You can't be serious..." Asmodei started with a look of disbelief. "Arkash, does it have to be the sewers? Why do your ideas always involve the most disgusting place in all of Nivenhain?"
Arkash merely grinned, then drew his rifle to pull back the lever, and checked the ammunition he'd loaded. Five rounds remained; it was full. "'Ew two," he addressed the humans.
"Eh?" One of them asked, eyes wide. "Wot? 'Ew wan' us t' go there?"
A bow of his head relayed his answer, and the two men hesitantly followed after the pale-skinned Sil'Norai and the Velsign both. "Oh! There's a muva an' 'er boy ther' too!" he warned with a yell, then cocked his rifle and rolled his shoulders. He was tired, but there was fight in him yet. He just had to remember not to engage Argent in melee; they dwarfed him in stature and strength, even if he was faster and more agile, he couldn't pierce their armor. Standing there in the street, Arkash took a moment to catch his breath and wavered in his consciousness. A shake of his head dispelled the tardiness in his form, and he got to running.
Through the streets, he searched and picked up as many people as he could. The road between where they were and the sewers was relatively quiet, and Arkash felt no hesitation in letting them escape to the directed sewers. Some took a little more convincing and force than others, but the promise of safety was enough to convince most people. It felt good to take charge, to lead the lost and the weak. it was empowering, even.
So, when Arkash passed the alley from which he'd emerged at the start of the butchering and spied a lone argent in its darkest reaches, despite his injuries, he felt strong enough to handle the lone knight. They were a curious one: Shorter than most argent, who'd been upgraded in stature with mutagens, but clearly skilled enough to earn themself a set of that armor. With his brow furrowed, Arkash lifted his rifle and shouldered the stock for stability, aimed down the iron sight, and pulled the trigger. A thundering boom was the only warning of Arkash's attack.
Of course, his opening strike wouldn't be enough to pierce the knight's armor if it landed, and the rifle wouldn't be ready to shoot again until the cooldown was done.

CLANG

That’s the last thing Alexander remembers hearing as he falls on his back. It felt like a blacksmith’s hammer hitting metal, and because the armor isn’t his, to begin with, thus the effect of the vibrating armor was further enhanced and made him lost his balance and fall backward. In truth, it was the first time he was wearing an oversized armor and being hit by a projectile.

Impersonating an Argent-Knight is a crime. The geezer’s word kept repeating over and over in his head as he fell. He lay on the ground for quite a while. Who the fuck shot me? An Argent? No way. Alexander thought to himself. The realization hits him like a thunderbolt in the middle of the day. Fuck it. It must have been the one who killed the Argent here. Ironic isn’t it? Stealing a dead Argent-Knight armor only to be shot down by presumably the same person who killed the previous owner of the armor.

Alexander weighs his options. Should I stand back up and run? But I’m not accustomed to this oversized armor. That’s just begging to be shot at, and that’s if the bullet doesn’t pierce the armor. And what the fuck was that? It couldn’t have been a pistol, it must’ve been a rifle or one of those guns that Gabrielle keeps talking about. I could always wait for the assailant to come close to finish the job and then attack them close range with my enkindled punching-dagger combo with a well-placed window portal. That’s if the assailant will go through the trouble of coming up close. Damn it! A hollow would be a lifesaver in moments like this. Worst case scenario, I could always blink out.

Impersonating an Argent-Knight is a crime. The geezer’s word repeats again. Fuck it, geezer. Who would want to be impersonating an Argent-Knight?

Alexander remains on the ground as still as he could. Then the realization hits him. Impersonating an Argent-Knight huh? What would quickly distinguish and Argent-Knight from the Nameless are this fucking armors.

Alexander knew that this was one of the greatest gambles of his life. Using everything he had learned in fooling other people, he opens the helmet and raised it using his right arm.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot. I stole this armor from the dead Argent here. I need to help my family slip past the Argents. Please.” Alexander shouted.

If it was an Argent who misfired and shot me, I could always show them the badge and be on my merry way. But if it’s not an Argent then they’ll likely be inclined to help a fellow Nameless. I wouldn’t want to resort to using blink, in case one of those damn birds are nearby. But no way would that be an Argent, they would have sent their Hollow to finish me off, if that’s the case I could always shouted Vosh. Alexander thought to himself as he stayed on the ground while waving the helmet with his right hand.


"Spoken" Thoughts

Arkash really was a master with his rifle. With such a hurried, scuffed shot, he put the Argent on the floor with the usual deafening clang of his bullet striking metal. But then, that was curious too. Most Argent were able to resist the first shot and were only so much as staggered by the impact. It was the second shot that either knocked them out or put them on their ass. But that, that one was clean knocked out of the fight with just one blast.
Arkash lowered the rifle, then pulled back the lever to eject the used shell. The golem pushed the next round into the loading chamber, and Arkash eased it into the firing mechanism as he pushed the lever closed. "Huwdd vet condur," he spoke under his breath, then rolled his shoulder as he drew his knife. All that was left to do was stab out the Argent's eyes and loot their body for ammunition. His eyes lifted to the streets as he proceeded toward the alley, just to assure he wasn't being watched or followed.
The moment he passed the threshold, however, the argent lifted their bloody, dented helmet. Arkash paused, then lifted his rifle to aim a second shot. The golem clicked, indicating it was ready to fire a second blast. Don't shoot! The man cried, and Arkash furrowed his brow. Argents didn't beg for mercy; they fought to the last and refused capture. They would die before surrendering, so what was the floored man doing?
"Oh!" Arkash spoke in surprise with a furrowed brow, then lifted his chin in suspicion. The human had stolen the armor from the Argent he killed. That made a lot more sense, and all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place with such an explanation. It explained why the Argent was so much shorter than the others, why their armor was too big, and why it only took one shot to knock them down.
"Well, gerr'e fack ap 'en, 'ew div," he spoke as he lowered the rifle. "Smart finkin', t' be fair. I'd wear a suit too if it fit'd me tail an awakwa'd legs." Arkash took a couple steps toward the Argent, then paused. "'Old th' fack up," he spoke with a furrow to his brow, then lifted his rifle again, shouldering the stock.
His nose was blocked with blood and god only knew what else, but he'd still caught a whiff of the man. It was so much more obvious some ways away from the slaughter, as the alley scents were mild in comparison. "Show youer a'ms. Flex."
Argent were trained from early childhood; all of them were massive muscle-bound meatheads beneath the thick plate that wrapped their forms. An easy way to differentiate a nameless from one of the higher castes was by how starved they were. There were holes in his logic, of course. What if the man was an immigrant? He might not have had the chance to starve in poverty yet. He didn't sound like an immigrant, but then...
Again, the rath scoffed, and lowered the rifle. "Neva'mine," he spoke with a shake of his head. "Where's 'ew fam'ly? I can show 'ew some'ere saef t' hide."

Alexander lay on the ground waving the helmet and repeating his sentence over and over. He couldn’t hear a damn thing or anyone approaching him. As soon as he heard someone spoke it startled him, as he couldn’t even hear anyone approaching. Still laying down with his back on the ground Alexander lifted his head just enough to see the source of the voice. Bloody fuck? A lizard with a gun? They’re definitely not Argent. An outsider perhaps? Those animal races? But where did they get access to the guns? It looks like one of those guns that Gabrielle showed me. Not some regular flintlock guns.

Alexander sighed a sigh of relief as the person lowered their gun and approaches him.

Good, it wor-

“Old th' fack up,” the person said as they lifted their rifle

Bloody fuck, this is it Alexander thought to himself as he braces for the worst. He was already attuning himself to the nodes in space to be able to transport himself to safety. While keeping an eye on the person.

As the person ordered him to show his arms and flex, Alexander’s face changed from worried into confusion.

“Wait what? Flex?” Alexander was in the process of removing the gauntlet from his right arm and the armor on his arms when the person lowered their rifle.

Bloody fuck? What the hell was that? Alexander thought to himself. Alexander began to weigh his options when the person asked where his family was. In truth, he hasn’t really thought that far. Should I tell him where my family was? Hell, I didn’t even know where's mom and dad. Or should I play the Nameless victim card and told the person my family is somewhere in Lower Nivenhain hiding? But I didn’t prepare for that if the person decided to escort me to the place where my make-believe family is hiding. Should I bring him to one of the Intelligence Division’s cell nearby? The person looks skilled enough, maybe on par with Solomon. I couldn’t bring them to the cell nearby and have the person slaughtered all of us.

When the person said they could show him a safe place to hide Alexander knew that he must play his cards right from this point onward. Safe place? Well, there could be other people as skilled as the person if they could find a safe place from the Argent-Knights. I could join him and see where it leads me. If they turn out to be a threat I could always be the inside-man and report back to that geezer, or worst comes to worst I could always direct the Argent-Knights to their location. The geezer’s trusted my judgments so far, well it’s another gamble. If this path provides better intel than the list, I could make up for time lost later on, or maybe that geezer knew something was up and decided to send me instead of Solomon’s lackeys.

“When I left them they’re still at home. I’ll be quick I told them. Shouldn’t have left them. Fuck! All for a few danaris at the gambling table. If only I’d stay home I could have at lea-” Alexander sat down with tears streaming down his face. “West Side Street, near the White Horse Tavern. My house is there.” Alexander said, recounting the place of his first ever mission. He knew that the place would be deserted so it would play to his advantage, and considering the Argent-Knights’ route, they would either be there or passing by there. Thus it would make it harder to check inside the building to confirm his story.

“Safe place to hide you said? Please help me get to my family first. They might have still been hiding there, well if not at least for-,” Alexander paused he took a deep breath. “For closure.” After a few moments, Alexander stood up using the rifle he looted as a foothold. Leaning on the rifle, “Anyway, have you seen any other Argents my size? Don’t know if this armor gonna hold up or convince the other Argents. Do you have any ammunition for this?” Alexander said pointing to his dented armor and the rifle he was using as support. “I don’t even know how to use this thing, just saw that a lot of them were carrying this.”


"Spoken" Thought

The man Arkash had shot was quite lively, it seemed, compliant, too. Then again, who wouldn't be compliant at gunpoint? The moment Arkash had said to show his arms, the human began to remove his gauntlet. The rath hadn't even considered how strange his demands were; he had his train of thought and all other perspectives came second.
As the man sat up, he began to profess his mistakes, cry, and explain himself. He really was just a man in over his head, it seemed. Arkash squinted at the twinge of guilt that stirred in his chest, but didn't immediately act on it. The man's family was on the far end of town, separated by an ocean of bloodthirsty Argent. He certainly hadn't made it easy for Arkash, and the rath shook his head while tears streamed down the man's cheeks. "Well, 'ew dunno if they's orite or naw..." Arkash started with a turn of his claw, then realized that was a very poor choice of words with widened eyes. "I mean! 'Ey! Calm down, they's prob'ly fine..!" Despite his reasoning, he likely wasn't all that convincing. Arkash hadn't even seen that part of town since the attack started, he couldn't be sure if anyone there had survived the assault.
When the man eventually calmed down, he made his wants and needs clear. Arkash merely shook his head in response. "Maet," he started with a furrow of his brow. "You's no' comin' wiv me, an I'm no' givin' 'ew ammo t' waest." With that, he stepped forward and offered the man his arm. If the human accepted Ark's offer, the rath would lean back and pull with all his strength and weight to try and help the man to his feet.
"Faw one, I'm real light on me feet, see? Trottin' along in 'ew full plaet's jus' gonna fuck me ova'," he explained. "Secun', 'ew dun' even kno' 'ow t' shoot. What if 'ew shoot me? Or miss an' waest th' shells? They dun' gro' on trees, yaknow. I'll fine youer fam'ly, jus' keep saef for 'em, yeah? No need faw heroics'n shet, rite?" It made more sense. Ultimately the man was wearing full plate and would alert every argent in a five-mile radius of their position if they tried to sleuth by, as was Arkash's preferred approach. The matter of him not knowing how to use a gun was also problematic, as he could easily miss or accidentally shoot Arkash, or even shoot himself by mistake.
"If 'ew really wan' a lesson wiv th' long guns," Arkash began as he lowered his rifle to show the stock, then tucked it into his right armpit. His right hand was on the trigger and his left held the weapon straight. "'Old it liek 'iss, keeps you propa' level, innit." With that, he lowered the rifle and pulled back the lever to show the inner mechanism, as well as the loaded shell. "Afta' 'ew shoot, 'ew gotta eject 'e ol' shell liek 'at, 'en close i' again t' prime th' roun'." With that, he shut the chamber and slid the lever into its default position with a click. "If 'ew can remember 'em two when I'm back in th' sewa's, I'll teach 'ew t' shoot propa'. Fair?" His lesson was scuffed, rushed, but if the human was serious about shooting, Arkash didn't doubt he'd learn those two techniques. It also gave the man something to focus on while Ark found his family.
Ultimately, the weapon in the man's arms didn't bother the rath; he'd looted that argent's corpse and all the ammunition from the weapon just an hour or so ago. he knew the man was harmless, even with a gun in his hands.
"Come on, th' delve's on th' way t' Wes' Side," he clarified, then motioned with his claws for the human to follow. "Naem's Arkash, by th' weh. Sorry faw shootin' 'ew, 'thought 'ew was an Argent nob'ead." If the human did follow him, Arkash would guide him through the alleys, away from the busy streets that were wrought with death and bloodshed. There was less chance of running into an Argent there, but the possibility wasn't nil.

As the rath spoke to him Alexander knew that his sob story worked, for the meantime. Well, it might work for now, and that’s on the other edge of town. The rath would either let me join him or lead me to the hiding place, either way is fine. A hiding place would be better, I also need to give in a report on the activities here or clarify and cross off the names on the list on the way. Maybe some of the people of interest managed to survive and are hiding with the rath and his group. Two birds with one stone. Alexander thought to himself, as he keeps up the façade.

As Alexander expressed that he wanted to go with the rath to West Side Street the rath shooked his head. As the rath offered him his arm he took it and the rath helped pulled him up. Alexander also uses the rifle he looted to help him stand up and keeps his balance.

Right, I ain’t know shit about shooting a gun. In fact, I can’t wait to get off this armor. But I could do that later on when I reach the mentioned safe place. Alexander thought to himself.

“Thanks.” He replied as the rath helped him up. “Yes, sorry I’m not thinking straight. It’s just I thought I could fool them by wearing the armor and pretending to be one of them. But the fact that I met you and not another Argent is perhaps in fact what saves me. They would surely see through my charade and send those bloody Hollows after me. Can’t even run in this fucking armor. Just like a turtle waiting for those Hollows to tear apart the armor. I thought it’d be lighter than this since those Argent’s move with ease. Who’d know if it’d be this heavy?”

Alexander let out a chuckle as the rath mentioned his shooting skill. “You got a point. Better than shooting myself by mistake or you and risked alerting those damn abominations to our location. Must have cost an arm and a leg to get one of this thing.” Alexander said pointing to the rifles. “Since only those Argents who are equipped with these guns.”

Alexander leaned in the nearby wall, as the rath lowered their rifle to show the stock and tucked it in his right armpit, Alexander did the same thing. “Quite heavy ain’t it? They must’ve been strong to be able to carry this while wearing that suit of armor.” Alexander leaned closer to get a better look at the lever and the loaded shell, then he pulled back the lever in his rifle and saw the shell inside. “So guess this shell is empty right?” Alexander said as he ejected his shell and let it fall to the ground. “So, pull back the lever, eject the shell or insert the shell, then close it again and keep the weapon straight or at proper level then push the trigger right?” Alexander said as he repeated the steps the rath showed him.

Alexander repeats the sequence one more time before he hears the word sewers. “Wait what? Sewers? We’re going, I mean hiding in the sewers? Well, guessed the Argents won’t even think about that.” Fucking sewers, smart move though, the Argents would be so focused on the ground level that they wouldn’t think about the sewers. They could regroup and weather out the storm. I need to get more info about the operation. I’ll try to find a way when I arrive in the sewers. Could always peek in using the window portal, but that’d be risky. Those damn birds would be around. Alexander weighs his options in his mind.

As the rath motioned him to follow he grabbed the rifle and sling it over his back and followed the rath. “Arkash? Well nice to meet you. I’m Alex. Well, it’s alright, I’d do the same thing too. These bloody bastards, have they got no humanity left? They're mindless warmongering drones.”

Maybe dad was right all along. There are flaws in the system. This is not your average threat-to-the-kingdom suppression. This is a culling. Those Nameless aren’t even a threat. Those damn birds are the real threat. But I guess all Argents had received the same conditioning from childhood. Good thing the Black Remedy took me in, or I’d been one of those Argent-Knights butchering those Nameless.

“Shit” Alexander muttered under his breath. “Hey Arkash, can we, can we stop for a moment? This armor feels like carrying your own tomb, it's fucking heavy.” Alexander said as they made their way through the alleys. Shit, I was with the advance squad when I break off to take a peek at the compound. It’d been quite a while since my meeting with Arkash. Hopefully, the cleanup squad has passed us. They would always move in a systematic route. Advance squad, cleanup squad, and- shit, they wouldn’t send those bloodhounds, aren’t they? Solomon told me of those Hollows that are chained with head covered at all times and kept in leash by their Argent-Knight. Alexander thought to himself as he leaned on a nearby wall to catch his breath. “Five minutes the most. Need to catch my breath.” Alexander said.

"Spoken" Thought

His gaze swapped between the human and the roar of the battle on the streets that laid beyond the cover of the alley. Orders that preceded sprays of gunfire, the sound of crushing bone, impacting metal. In the moments where he settled his yellow eyes on the man, he offered some quick, rushed lessons on marksmanship and rifle etiquette. The human responded well to the brief teachings and almost perfectly mirrored Arkash's demonstration. "Ye, no' bad," he spoke with a grin.
Truthfully, Arkash was far more worried about the human shooting him rather than himself. It would be quite remarkable if the human somehow managed to aim that long barrel at himself, Arkash was definitely more at risk if he'd decided to give the human any ammunition, whether by accident or on purpose. Getting shot by someone he was trying to help wasn't a risk he was willing to take.
"Those fucka's are propa' strong liek," Arkash returned the man's observations on the armor he wore. "I reckon 'ey could wear a brick 'ouse if 'ey wanted," he exaggerated. Wearing a brick house was ridiculous. "'Ew ge' used t' th' we'ght o' th' gun," he assured. "Packs a helluva punch, as 'ew saw," he offered with a grin, then motioned for the human to follow him out into the street, up the road a bit, then deep into another alley.
They had to wade through bodies in order to arrive at the second alley, but it would be the only time in their journey where they had to swap alleys. Arkash knew the streets of Lower Nivenhain well, he knew all the darkest corners and sneaky alleys and shortcuts. The dangerous parts of town, different gang territories, and the like. In a different life, he might have made a good guide. That would have required some decent level of charisma, though; something Arkash fundamentally lacked.
Part-way through their journey through the darkened halls of Nivenhain's slums, the man, Alex, declared he needed to rest. Arkash cast a concerned glare to the man as a spray of gunfire boomed beyond the shelter of their hidden passage. His gaze was unflinching, and he almost seemed to stare for a thousand yards past the human while he remained caught in a loop of thought.
"Rest when youer dead," Arkash instructed. "Maet, push through th' burn. I'ss do or die out 'ere," the rathor instructed as he took Alex by the arm, then pulled the weight of that thick armor to help the man to his feet. "We lit'ally dun' 'ave tiem t' rest-" he spoke through a heave with his voice strained. "C'mon, shift 'ew legs!" Arkash bared his sixty serrated teeth in a strained pull of his lips while he put all his strength into helping the man walk. Alex wasn't kidding it seemed; the Armor was cumbersome.
"We's nearly 'er!" He declared with a grunt and willed his wobbly legs to push forward. "'Oly fuck-! 'Ow do 'ey walk liek i'ss?!" Arkash steadily realized how unfair the Argent had it. They were incredibly light on their feet, nimble, and utterly capable of matching Arkashs speed while wrapped in Armor as thick and bulky as the stuff Alex was wearing. It really was no wonder that Arkash needed multiple guns just to kill one; they were freaking monsters, gods on the battlefield.
It was that day that Arkash decided he would one day achieve their strength, that he wanted to match them, surpass them for power and force of will. If he set his mind to becoming stronger instead of dancing around his enemies, he one day would, he believed. "Faaaaaaaack-!" He called while his legs burned, then froze still in his tracks. He didn't even breathe while he stood there, and stared forward completely frozen.
Ahead of them, in the dark of the alley, was a hollow; a Hulking big one with a two-handed hammer. Arkash merely stared while his teeth chattered on his jaw, and his legs began to shake just moments later. His eyes were wide and his mouth steadily filled with venom while his heart sank with dread. Of all the weapons it could have carried, did it have to be a hammer? Tears began to form in his right eye as a thick, yellow drool began to drip from his lips while he stared down the golem.
The splatter of the fluid on the floor stole the automaton's attention, and it turned to face the pair with a grunt. Arkash didn't move still. Even when the beast shrieked and built into a charge, Arkash only tightened his grip on Alex's gauntlet. His breathing quickened and his heart raced as the monster quickly closed in.

Aside from the burden of the armor, Alexander was more affected by the sight before him. Piles of dead bodies in the street, streams of blood covering the street that they just passed.

What the fuck is this? This is truly a massacre, have they gone mad? Even women and children. Those bloody fucks. If only grandpa, mom, and dad were here, they would have given that geezer a talking too. But I guess the geezer also doesn’t have any say in this. Must have come from the higher up. The King perhaps? Alexander thought to himself as he and Arkash cross to the second alley.

Arkash doesn’t give him a chance to rest. True they would be sitting ducks out there especially with the armor he was wearing, anyone could spot them from far away. The rath helped him up. Alexander knew that the rath was also struggling. It was no joke, the armor was truly heavy.

“Yeah, fuck. They must’ve been trained from birth. This armor is fucking heavy.” Alexander said as Arkash helped him to continue moving toward their destination.

“Why are we stopping?” Alexander said as he bumped into Arkash who was frozen in his track. Staring forward like a prey who senses a predator. Alexander squinted his eyes to get a better look at what Arkahs is looking at. He could only saw the silhouette at first.

“It’s just a Hol-“ Alexander muttered under his breath as the silhouette became clearer. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I almost said it, hope he didn’t catch on. Alexander thought to himself as he turns to look at Arkash’s reaction.

“H-hey, w-we gotta r-run” Alexander tried to pull Arkash, but the rath stood still. The Hollow turned its attention toward them, it shrieked with an ungodly shriek and prepares to charge at the two. He could felt Arkash grip on his gauntlet tightens. Alexander closed his eyes and took two deep breaths.

Don’t think about it! Just feel it! Alexander remembers his mother’s advice when she taught him how to blink out to safety while falling from the top of a building.

Alexander could feel the light shaking of the ground as the Hollow charges at them. He took out his punching-dagger and enkindled it. It’s just like in training with the handicap of not being able to move freely, unless. Alexander thought to himself as he took out his punching-dagger with his free hand. Flames slowly engulfed the punching-dagger.

“Fuck” Alexander muttered under his breath, he waited as the Hollow began to closes in on them. When the Hollow gets within around forty feet, Alexander uses his Transposition magic and mirrored himself in front of Arkash and his double. Using his mirror he appeared a few inches from the Hollow.

“Vosh,” Alexander said. Using the brief window of opportunity he uses his enkindled punching-dagger to cut diagonally across the area he presumed would be the location of the Hollow’s core. Wasting no time, he channels the flame lance with his freehand before teleporting back. He chose the body double with Arkash as his return point as he ended the mirroring ability.

As he returned to his original place Alexander waited for a few more seconds before the flame lance fully formed. He then threw the four feet flame lance at the Hollow’s head. There in front of the pair stood the Hollow, with its head engulfed with flame and the burning diagonal cut mark in its body.

“He-y, HEY! Arkash, Come on mate, snap out of it!” Alexander shouted as he shook Arkash.

Damn it! I can’t blink someone out with me. Should I leave him? No, that’d be a fucking waste of talent. I don’t know for sure if I hit the core, but with the weight of the hammer and the burning, it should hinder the Hollow’s movement. Let’s just hope no other Hollow’s nearby or the Argent-Knight who is in charge of this Hollow’s squadron. Alexander thought to himself as he continued shouting and shaking Arkash, his heartbeat racing.

“HEY! Arkash, come on we got to go while we still have the chance.” Alexander tried to pull Arkash along. Straining every muscle in his body, weighed down by the weight of the armor and still out of breath from his recent attack.


"Spoken" Thought