Atharen, A Fantasy Roleplay Forum

8th of Frost

Through the field of snow-covered bodies, Arkash trod the streets. His bandages were getting old and dirty despite being changed in the early morning. But what choice did they have? Their few medical supplies had to be distributed fairly. If he sat on the few precious things he had, he'd be no better than the leaders that ordered the massacre of the people he walked over.
Over his back rested his rifle while his pistol sat on his hip. Both were entirely out of ammo and served as idle threats at best. Meanwhile, in his claws was a Wrogon piglet weighing in at maybe ten pounds now. Arkash held the beast by its stomach while he carried it along, and its hind legs dangled free. A glance over his shoulder confirmed the presence of Asmodei who stayed close to him. Meanwhile, a dozen or so humans he'd helped save and motivate were working through the broken, bloody field of bodies to carry and drag the lost into a pile in the middle of the road, as he'd designated.
Alexander was among them; a human that possessed Sigilic pyromancy, a man that potentially served in the same guild as Asmodei once had, the same guild that would kill Fayeth on sight. For that reason, he left her with the helpless nameless. She was to help take care of the wounded and alleviate the elderly and young of their stress. Beneath her rage and ideals, she was a caring person. Almost a motherly figure in some lights. She would handle the nameless well, he believed.
The piglet in his claws squirmed and oinked. Arkash lifted his hold to hug the beast close, then looked to Asmodei for help with a pleading gaze. "Maybe it's hungry," the Velsign offered with a turn of his gauntlet-clad palm.
Arkash sighed, and set the pig down on the side of the road. Before he could even straighten his back, the creature stared up and oinked some more. With a hop of its front legs, it lifted its snout to Arkash's pocket and began to sniff and prod. Arkash furrowed his brow. Asmodei was right, the thing was hungry. With a sigh, he drew a beetle from his pocket and lowered himself to his knees before the beast. "This ain't free," he warned as he lorded the beetle over the pig. Its wet snout pushed up against his claws, then licked at his scales before it opened its mouth to try and snatch the snack. Arkash hadn't been expecting the move, and the pig's maw swiftly snatched the beetle. "OI!' he called as the pig trotted back a pace and began to eat its catch. The rath's efforts to snatch it back were futile, for the piglet had already eaten the bug. "Prick!" he warned in anger.
The pig promptly took off and began to run down the street at full speed, but not fast enough. Though the piglet was surprisingly fast, Arkash was much more so. A few long strides over the frosty ground saw him catch up to the beast, and snatch it into his claws. It squealed as he hefted it from the floor, then tucked it into his arms again, where it settled down to oink and snort.
Asmodei laughed a breath or two as he walked to catch up with the rath, then offered his gauntlet-clad palm. Arkash nodded and handed over the pig. "He takes after you, Ark, snatching other people's food," the Velsign observed as he tucked the piglet into his arms.
"'E's an ass'ole," Arkash returned with a scowl. There was so much he hadn't considered when he decided to keep the piglet. Food, potty breaks, destruction of property... Obedience.
"You said it, not me," spoke Asmodei with a shrug. "You gonna do some work or play around in the snow with your unnamed pig all day?"
Arkash rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Piss off," he scoffed, then looked about the working men. A few of them cast their gazes to him and his pig's attempted escape. Arkash shook his head before he looked back to the piglet and sighed. "You're right though, I probably should- Wait a minute; you're like twice my size! Why don't you help?!" Arkash nagged in vithmi.
"I've gotta look after this pig, sorry," the armor-clad knight declared while stroking down the hairs of the boar's hide.
Arkash glared, unimpressed, then rolled his eyes again. "Dick'ead," he muttered under his breath and looked about for the nearest body.
"What did you say?"
"Nuffin," Arkash returned, then proceeded along the street in search of some carcass to pry from the frozen ground. The mound of bodies was growing quickly with everyone's combined efforts. Arkash really should have lent his claws to the effort. Again, he pressed his knee into the floor beside a frozen carcass, then reached out to grab it by the scruff. It was a woman, face down on the side of the road... But when he turned her over, he froze in place. His eyes widened and his lips began to drip his venom before he pulled away and scrambled across the frozen floor in an effort to escape the sight.
With a shaky exhale, Arkash turned over and rubbed at his eyes while he stared at the ground. There was nothing particularly odd or out of place about the dead woman, but the sight set something off in the young rath. Once he'd steadied his breath, he looked over his shoulder to the body, then shivered hard as he scrambled to his feet. With his arms out at the ready, he backed away from the frozen woman, then paused as he backed directly into another worker. Arkash gasped in shock and promptly turned on the spot to see no other than... Alexander.
He drew a deep breath and wrapped his claws around his muzzle as he straightened and composed himself, then exhaled a deep, ragged sigh. "Sorry, fella," Arkash returned as he lifted the backs of his claws to his eyes, and wiped them dry. "Thanks for 'elpin' out. Need an 'and?" Not once did he turn back to look at the frozen woman while he spoke to Alex, but what was the human doing? The rath furrowed his scalie brows and tilted his head in confusion.

Not a bad idea, but burning the corpses will send a fucking signal to the Argents that there were survivors? Or maybe that’s what the higher-ups were hoping for? If the geezer was in charge of the operation, it would be less bloody than this. Fuck them. Even women and children aren’t spared. Alexander thought to himself as he followed the group of people exiting the sewer.

Ah, fuck, finally fresh air. Alexander took a deep breath but nearly gagged at the smell of the pile of corpses around. Fucker, good thing it’s Frost or else it’ll smell much worse than down below.

Alexander tried to backtrack his way to the place where he found and looted the armor from the dead Argent-Knight. As he was walking past an alley, a Hollow broke through the wooden wall and tackled him, pinning him on the ground.

“Vosh!” Alexander shouted

“Lok!” Another voice called out of the shadows

“Vosh!” Alexander shouted again.

Alexander couldn’t see well to the source of the voice since his view was blocked by the Hollow. He could hear the footsteps on the snow grew closer. Then it stops several inches away from him.

“Alex?” A familiar voice could be heard. “Vosh Jal.” The voice ordered. The Hollow releases its grip on Alexander and stood up.

“Katya? What are you doing here? Solomon sent you?” Alexander replied as he tried to stand up.

“I was with the clean-up crew. You look like hell and smells worse than Spade’s hounds.” Katya replied as she grabs a stick and extending it to Alexander. Alexander grabbed one end of the stick and she helped pulled him up.

“Where’s Olaf and Spade?”

“Them? They’re back in the tavern drinking. Oh, and the tab’s under your name.”

“It was Solomon ain’t it?”

Katya smirked. She motioned for Alexander to follow her inside the building. They slowly made their way to the rooftop of the three-story building.

“You’ve been camping out here?” Alexander remarked as he saw the makeshift camp and the fresh embers from the campfire.

“Yup, it’s easier that way. Great vantage point. And I got this Hollow to guard the entrance to the rooftop.”

“So how long will the operation be?”

“Not sure, they’d probably want to weed out the surviving Nameless or let nature do its job. Great for people like us. More jobs equal more money.”

“Doesn’t it bothers-“

“We were given a job, we do the job and we get paid to do it. That’s it. End of the story.” Katya cut Alexander mid-speech.

“You finish your list yet?”

“Somebody beat me to it. Several others died in the culling, and I’m out here hunting the rest.”

“Somebody beat you to it?” Katya then burst into laughter. “Well, that’s a first” she continued as she made her way to the ledge and grabbed her rifle.

“First time for everything right?”

Katya didn’t respond. She was looking at the scope of her rifle. Breathing in and out.

BANG

Alexander jumped a little at the sound.

“Another hundred danari,” Katya said as she pulled back her rifle’s casing and ejected the empty shell casing. “Jal Kotempt,” she said as she placed her rifle against the nearby wall. The Hollow came and carry a box full of ammunition and placed it in the ground in front of Katya.

“So, where’d you get that? Spade?” she remarked eyeing the rifle Alexander was carrying

“An argent was carrying it.”

“Did you-“ She stopped mid-sentence. “Never mind, don’t say it. I don’t want to know about it.”

“You got a pack?”

“In the small brown bag in the tent.”

Alexander then made his way into the makeshift tent and looked for the bag. He found the bag and opened it. Inside he saw three-pack of cigarettes, a deck of playing cards, and two pieces of lighter. He grabs two packs of cigarettes, a piece of a playing card, and a lighter. He went outside the tent and leaned on the ledge beside Katya. Alexander then proceeds to take out a piece of cigarette and lit it.

“Jal” he ordered the Hollow. The Hollow stood up and walk toward him.

“Vosh Jalkompttre” Katya added. The Hollow stop and turn back and walks toward the door to the rooftop.

Alexander walks over to the ammo cache and grabs several cartridges of ammo.

“The one with the red casing is the one for rifles.”

Alexander returned the cartridges and grabbed the correct one.

“Put it on my tab yeah?” he replied

Katya nodded. He stood up and placed pocketed the cartridges. Something shines on Katya’s face.

“Shit” Katya ducked and ran for her rifle.

“Over there!” Katya shouted as she pointed at the rooftop of the buildings adjacent to the building they were at.

Alexander squinted his eyes, then he saw someone running away.

“Bloody fuck. Oh, give this to Solomon.” Alexander said as he throws the joker playing card in Katya’s direction before jumping over the ledge to the lower adjacent building’s rooftop.

He looked back at Katya, she was busy scoping with her rifle. Alexander took a detour and blinked toward the adjacent buildings. Making sure to keep out of Katya’s line of sight. Pacing twenty seconds between blinking, he finally arrives at the rooftop of the building where the runaway was. The woman turned to look at him. With fear in her eyes and trembling hands holding the knife.

“D...Die Argent dog.” She said with hands trembling as she rushed forward at Alexander. A bullet whizzes past him and hit the woman’s shoulder, she dropped the knife. Alexander uses that window of opportunity to strike. He punches his punching-dagger at the woman’s abdomen, then another at the woman’s throat. All the while pushing himself forward closer to the ledge. He pulled out his dagger. The woman dropped to the floor, gasping for air, with blood streaming down her throat and abdomen. She tried to cover the bleeding with her hands. She grabs hold of the railings and stands up with her back against Alexander. Alexander kicked her, the wooden railings gave way and the woman fell face down on the ground below. Alexander walked over to the ledge and looked below, the woman was still as a statue.

As the rush of adrenaline left him, he leaned at a nearby wall. With hands shaking he took out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He tries to grab a piece of cigarette, but with that much shaking the cigarette fell down. He then took another one. It fell too after five tries then he manages to grab a piece of cigarette. He lit it and took a deep breath and slowly breathes out a cloud of smoke.

So this is what the geezer meant with it’ll haunt you forever huh? Alexander thought to himself as the scene replays in his mind. He unconsciously lit another cigarette after another.

“Bloody fuck” Alexander said as the embers of the cigarette fell on his fingers. He placed his hand on the nearby wall to ease the heat.

How long was I zoning out? Oh shit, the body! Alexander rushed to the edge of the building. He looked down in horror.

What the fuck is he doing here? Is he following me? Did he saw the whole ordeal? Fuck. Alexander thought to himself as he saw Arkash turned the now frozen corpse around. He grabs his punching-daggers tightly and after making sure no one was around he blinked several inches behind Arkash.

What should I do? Should I kill him too? Does he know the woman? Alexander weighs his options as Arkash backed into him and bumped him. Alexander was about to pull out his punching-dagger from his pocket when the Rath spoke to him.

Alexander sighed a sigh of relief. Well, guess he did not see the ordeal. He let go of his grip on his punching-dagger and took out his pack of cigarettes and handed it to Arkash.

“Hey, Arkash. Yeah, was about to look for someone else to help me drag the corpse here. There are quite a few over here. Fancy a cig? Have you found other survivors aside from us in the sewers? I’m gonna take a quick break. Help me drag the bodies later, yeah?” Alexander said as he took a piece of cigarette and lit it.

"Spoken" Thoughts

In his delusional haze, Arkash hadn't seen the woman's body for what it was: a recent murder. In his eyes, it looked as though she'd been left out for days in the peak of Frost, gathering snow. It felt as though she was glued to the ground by the ice, physically immovable. Though that obviously wasn't the case, as Arkash had just turned her over, all his senses convinced him it was so. Her image stayed with him, even after all those years that had passed.
Past traumas and ghosts were perhaps the main factor to what saved Alexander from the creep of the truth, as Arkash was none the wiser, and unwilling to look back upon her. One thing that he did count as odd was the smell of fresh blood on Alexander's from. The coppery tang on his palette brought his brow to furrow, though he spoke nothing of it. Instead, his eyes wandered up and down Alex's form. Was the man wounded? Why hadn't he said anything?
"A ciggy?" he asked with a blink, then scratched at the bandages that wrapped his right shoulder with a wince. His eyes fell upon the human and the offered cigar. Arkash had not smoked before. He hadn't drunk or partaken in any drugs of any sort, with the exception of a very infrequent, meager amount of medicine scattered across the years of his life. Why not? Liu was mixed up in the drug trade and had been up until a few months before her death.
"...Uh, yeah," he affirmed with a scratch of his claws to the back of his head. It didn't feel right, as though he was betraying some part of himself. His integrity? What integrity? he was an assassin; a blade for hire. Besides, he couldn't appear weak or hesitant to those that followed him, could he? "Ta," Arkash spoke as he accepted the nicotine stick, then cleared his throat. "Uhh- got a light, mista' magic man?"
Arkash knew full well that the human possessed fire powers, but they hadn't spoken of it aside from a promise not to tell anyone. Arkash had been exhausted from the weight of his wounds, his battles, and the trauma of seeing one of those things again when he discovered Alex's abilities, and it wasn't as though sigilic pyromancers were anything rare or special; nearly every mage he knew was a sigilic pyromancer; Cyrus included, now.
A break? "Yeah," he promptly replied. Anything to get away from the sight of the dead woman. Sure, he hadn't really done any work, but the nameless could use the exercise, he believed. "I've bin chasin' tha' damn Wroglin' all ova' th' place, haven' re'lly moved enyone yet..." he admit, then looked about the street again. "Might be betta' off puttin' 'em in one of 'ese 'ouses; mebbe burn easia'" he thought aloud. The snow was bound to interfere with the flames, and he didn't want to have to out Alex as a mage just to light the pyre.
With that, he brought his lips to smile, then motioned for the man to follow him a block or so away. There was a small, ramshackle shelter over one of the flights of stairs that led to the elevated, dilapidated stone houses. Arkash took shelter beneath one, and offered Alexander a place at his side with a gesture of his claws. There, he adjusted the bandage of his shoulder again, then shook his head. "Just a couple straggla's," he admit. "Az dun' think 'ey'll maek i'... I believe 'im," spoke the rathor as he hung his head. The two survivors they'd found were badly wounded, dehydrated, frostbitten and barely breathing. Their odds didn't look good.
The rathor's yellow eyes slid their gaze to the man, and Arkash smiled a little. "'Ow's 'at bruise 'ealin', eh?" He spoke in reference to where he'd shot him all too quickly, as if to avoid the topic of survivors. "An' while i'ss fresh in me 'ead, what sorts a'... y'know…" he quieted down a little, then looked about the streets to make sure they weren't being listened to. "...magic 'ew got? I seen 'ew wiv Trans-poz-it'in an' sig'ic-pyremancy, but any uvers?" Though he had to be weary of Alexander's affiliates, he couldn't deny that a mage of his caliber would be incredibly useful.
Arkash straightened his neck a little then and rolled his shoulders. As he stood a full two inches taller than the human, he grinned a little. "I might need'ew 'elp wiv summin' tomorra'," the rath explained with a glint in his eye.

Alexander observes Arkash’s hesitation when he offered the cigarette. This guy never had a cig? Ah, maybe he knows it under a different name. As the Rath accepted the cigarette, Alexander put the pack of cigarettes back in his coat pocket. He didn’t even think about it until Arkash asked him for a light. Magic man? Ah shit. Knew it, shouldn’t have used magic to take out that Hollow. But what’s in the past is the past. Alexander thought to himself.

“Ah yes, my bad,” Alexander replied as he took out his lighter and handed it to Arkash. “You might want to inhale a bit when you light the cig. So to let the fire burn the tip of the cig. Then it’s just minding over it so the fire won’t die out early. Considering the weather.”

Alexander took another puff from his cigarette, he then leaned at the nearby wall. “So you’ve been chasing that Wroglin? Fast creatures aren’t they? But yeah if one knows how to prep and cook one, the taste would do justice to the somewhat unpleasing appearance.” Alexander paused then looked at Arkash, “My bad, I wasn’t implying anything. Just that this cold weather makes me hungrier than usual.” He then took another puff. “It’ll be easier to pile the corpses in a house then burn them, since wood and fire. But a pyre that big would surely alert those bastards that there were survivors. Wouldn’t want that would we?”

As the Rath motioned him to follow, Alexander followed closely behind. As they walked for a block or so, Alexander took in the sight of what was left of the carnage.

We were given a job, we do the job then we get paid for it. Katya’s word repeated over and over in his mind. So that makes us even worse than those damn birds. At least they have some sort of principles and morals. The Argent-Knighthood? Just like mindless drones, following the order of their superiors. At least they did it for home and country. But people like us? We don’t give a fuck about that patriotic bullshit, as long as the pay is good we did the job without questions, right? But why my hands won’t stop trembling after I killed that woman? Fuck it. Alexander thought to himself as they walked along.

They stopped in front of a ramshackle shelter near those stone houses.

“So it’s like this throughout Lower Nivenhain huh? Those bastards gotta pay for what they’ve done.” Alexander said as he sat down and pounded his fist on the cold ground.

“You’re a good shot, I’ll give you that. Could be on par with Spa-, an old friend of mine. He hunts for the thrill of it. It’ll leave a mark for sure. That’s why I’m leaving that damn armor. Gotta find something else that suits me better and something I could run in.”

He took another puff from his cigarette and leaned his head back on whatever support his head find. He almost choked on the smoke he inhaled when Arkash asked him that question. Alexander coughed then he spits on the ground. He let out a chuckle. “So, I take it you’ve met with other people like me huh? Well, my neighbor used to be one of those who make those golems, since he got no kids he decided to teach me how to be able to make golems. But it’s such a tedious job and we need plenty of resources. So I kinda know the rough concept of it. But that’s before I moved to Lorien. If only I knew that golem makers here are paid such a good salary and have a higher caste than merchants, I would have honed my skill. But yeah, those two are what I’m more knowledgeable in.”

Alexander grinned at the Rath’s response. “Lemme guess, does it involves getting into a place that we’re not allowed to? Oh, and another thing,” Alexander paused as he looked at Arkash’s bandage. “What are we gonna do about that? The rest of the wounded down in the sewers. And the other important matter of-“ Alexander paused as the rumbling of his stomach could be heard. “Yeah, that.” He let out a chuckle.

A wave of his claw and a shake of his head was a swift reply to the human's apology. After all, Alexander was the one offering him the cigarette in the first place, he couldn't have known that Arkash didn't carry a lighter of any sort on his person. As he accepted the small device, he looked to Alex and furrowed his scalie brows. "I know 'ow t' light a ciggy," he lied. Though, the advice would surely help him pretend as though that were true, wouldn't it?
Before he lit it, he motioned the human to follow him to the nearby shelter. Arkash couldn't last long with exposure to the cold, and who knew how long their well deserved break would be.
There at the shelter, Arkash listened to what the man had to say about alerting the argent and the wroglin alike. His gaze remained forward, watching the streets beyond the crude shelter they took refuge beneath. "Part'a th' plan," was all he said with a knowing smile. "An' youer fien. It's not fer eatin', though." No, Arkash had chosen to keep the piglet. He'd somehow learn to train it into an obedient beast, and its warmth would help keep him alive in the frost.
Was there more to it than that? It was a childish thing in his eyes, but he felt a connection to the piglet that lived. They were both born inconsequential and both fought to escape the clutches of those that oppressed them. Arkash too had been lined up for execution, but by the cost of the arm and eye he was born with, he escaped. In that sense, the piglet was more fortunate than he.
Arkash looked to the cigarette in his claws, then tucked the butt of the stick between his lips. Using his hand, he sheltered the end from the wind as he'd seen others do, and lifted the oil-igniting device to the end. As he clicked the flint and steel wheel at the top, he inhaled just as Alex said, and watched the man with caution to the rounded pupils of his yellow eyes. Finally, the tip lit, and the pull of oxygen through the embers assured that the end remained lit as Arkash drew the first breath of smoke into his lungs.
It was a strange sensation, one that drew his eyes to widen at the tingle at the back of his throat. Naturally, he lowered the cigarette, and tried to clear the obstruction with a rumble, but only brought himself to sputter and cough. The rathor turned away and coughed as he choked. It didn't help that his throat was broken, and had been for months. Smoke flowed from his nostrils and mouth alike as he coughed the wisps from his lungs.
When the attack was over, Arkash drew a breath of fresh air that flared his nostrils, then cleared his throat again. "Good shit," he spoke in affirmation with a thump of his balled fist to his chest, then offered the lighter to its rightful owner. The second drag came a lot smoother than the first, and the rath barely sputtered before letting the smoke flow from his lungs. The third was almost completely natural.
"Pretty much," he answered the question posed and cleared his throat again before he took another drag. "I' wuz a slaughta', foun' bodies a' women, kids, elda'ly… 'Ey didn' give a shite who 'ey killed, like we's animals to 'em." They weren't so wrong in Arkash's case, but they had yet to find any rathor in the bodies. The argent had willingly butchered their own kind. Arkash was indeed awful, but he hadn't even committed such an atrocity against the people that had ruined him, let alone a people that shared his race, his blood.
He could drone on for hours about how cruel and evil the higher castes were, but he didn't. 'They're a symptom, not the disease,’ warned Fayeth's words in his head. The people weren't to blame. It was the system, the nobility, the monarchy. Without a system of oppression, the savant and the argent alike had nothing. But those were words that he couldn't express or share with Alexander.
"Met a few pyremancea's," he nodded his affirmation. He knew five in total, only three of the mage's he'd ever met didn't have the magic: Mannon, Malafor, and Fayeth. So, the majority of mages were part of the organization that was trying to kill the dranoch, whatever it was called.
As it turned out though, those were the only two magics he possessed. The third was a supposed 'world magic', or a science as the rien people saw it. Artificing, as it was called. "Artificers maek an 'elluva livin' 'ere, yeah. Could've paid off a Celebran' to maek 'ew a citizen" Arkash clarified then shrugged. He didn't care much for the castes; A Savant and a Lustrian were the same in his eyes. "'Ew dabble in ‘at?" He asked in surprise and disbelief. An Artificer of any caliber would be an incredibly valuable asset down the road. The more he spoke to Alexander, the more interested he became. The human was shaping up to be quite the prize.
At the response to his offer, Arkash grinned. "Ew's pretty smart, y'kno'," the rathor spoke with a glint in his eye. "I've go' i' all figured out liek, dun' worry ew'self," he assured. "We'll be 'ittin' a few places in Outa' Nivenhe'n, pick up meds, food, guns. Th' smoke from th' pyres will draw th' Chevalier 'ere while we're fetching 'ey shit," he explained, then pursed his lips. "'Course, I'm bringin' uva's jus' for th' extra 'ands, but ew’ll be a real propa’ part’a th’ plan.”
The rathor smiled before putting the end of the cigarette in his mouth again, then took another long drag before exhaling with a brief, mild, chesty cough at the end. “Like ‘ew says, ‘em people need food, meds, ...otha’ stuff. We’re fukt if we can’ taek care of ‘em. Dun’ ‘ew wanna maek a diff’rence? Saev sum’un?” The more Arkash thought about it, the more he realized he could connect well to the broken and the lost. He’d walked in their shoes, he knew their strife. If Alexander was anything like the rest of the nameless, he’d surely be just as easy to groom and manipulate.

Alexander chuckled at the Rath’s remarked about paying a Celebrant to be a citizen. If only it's that easy. They make a lot more money than any of us. Alexander thought to himself.

“Well, if I have that kind of money, I’d probably not be here right now, or spending my nights at the gambling table,” Alexander replied as he took another cigarette and lit it. He let out a cloud of smoke before he continues “Yes, I dabble a bit in that. Just need to find a suitable mentor or the resources to practice with, which is hard to get, considering they don’t even give a fuck about us outsiders and came down on us like a hail of fire and brimstone.”

Well, that’s the logical thing to do, right? What else could we do? We can’t launch a full-on attack on the Argent, considering our manpower and not to mention they are, no, we’re trained since birth. But considering the Argent failed to take into consideration that the survivor used the sewers. No, this Rath is the one that offsets the equation. There was something about him since the first time we met. A dark horse. Well, guess change coming to the kingdom one way or the other. Alexander thought as he took another puff. “Aye, that seems like the most logical plan right now, because you know, where else could we get supplies if not from those bastards? Well, we sure need a couple extra muscles for the job and right now we only got a group of ragtag survivors.”

Well, fuck this just gets really interesting. Don’t want Solomon or the geezer butting in on the operation at the wrong time. Two birds with one stone. Making a difference huh? Not as easy as it sounds. Maybe I could use this situation to my advantage. I should get Petrov and the rest onboard with the plan. Need another ally if a change is really bound to happen, and with all this shit’s happening, something’s big is happening in the royal court. Damn that geezer, keeping his cards close at times like this. Alexander took another puff.

“Make a difference huh? If only it were that easy. But hey, never know till you try.” Alexander replied. He took another puff and let what remains of the cigarette fell to the ground. Dammit, I really need to talk to the geezer or Solomon. But how could I even getaway? Ah yes, that’d work.

“I guess we better get back to working then if we want to make a difference. Those bodies ain’t gonna move themselves, well unless you know some other people like me who could do that kind of stuff.” Alexander stood up and took another cigarette as he walks out of the shelter. His eyes subtly jumping from one rooftop to another, looking for any sighting of his red-haired colleague.

"Spoken" Thoughts