Chronicles of Xenos, Book II: Shattered Destiny [M]{PM}

Prologue:

A white haired man in an old ragged brown cloak sat leisurely in his seat aboard a bullet train bound for Freete, the capital of the Republic of Xenotia. He sat in his cabin alone near the window, though there was room for three more. He looked out at the scenery as it streaked by, though his eyes sparkled as if he was actually taking it all in. He rested his bearded chin on one fist and began to hum a song to himself. He hummed it with both sorrow and happiness in his face and voice; it was obviously a tune that carried a lot of memories for him.

The man's eyes started to water, just when a young man burst in the room. The dark skinned manned was dressed in a sleeveless green and white fighting ghi, just as worn as the man's cloak. His curly black hair swayed over his shoulders freely, as he spun around and plopped down the opposite bench seat. He immediately buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly, a strange blue tattoo was printed on his right forearm.

The older man turned away from the window with a big grin on his face. "What's the matter, junior, motion sickness?"

The young man shook his head.

"Ah! Nerves then, that has to be it!" The man proclaimed with his finger pointed prominently in the air.

"No", the man said in a horse growl.

The man leaned forward and looked the boy up and down with a frown. Slowly a smile began to creep across his face and he whispered, "Did you do something with your hair?"

The young man's head snapped up and he gave the man an angry glare. "You made me cut my ponytail!"

The man scratched the top of his head and chuckled, "Oh yeah… I did, didn't I?"

The young man buried his face again and sighed, "I do hate you, Eldridge."

Eldridge smiled and put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "Oh come on, Reign! You really going to let the loss of a bad hairdo keep you down. Besides… If you walked around Freete like that, you'd be identified as a Naemian in a second."

Reign sat back in the bench seat and shook his head, "No one even remembers Naem anymore." He turned to the wizard and continued, "And it wasn't just a ponytail! It was a symbol of my age and experience. And another thing… you don't think a giant floating sword is a little conspicuous?"

Eldridge shrugged his shoulders, "What sword?" Just then a golden hilt slowly nudged its way out of his cloak. The wizard quickly grabbed the pummel and tried to shove it back. As he struggled with the sword he grunted, "I thought we had this talk, junior… *Get in, dammit!* You have to let those silly traditions of yours go… *Stupid floating piece of-* You know, sacrifice for the greater good, and all that."

Reign crossed his arms and huffed, "How did you talk me into doing that anyway?" Eldridge just smiled knowingly. The hunter turned to his mentor with an accusing eye, "You put a spell on me didn't you?"

Eldridge feigned a gasp and placed his hand over his chest. "What!? Me? Use a hypnosis spell on you? Never!"

Reign looked at him coldly and said flatly, "You're an ass."

Eldridge flashed his goofy grin and reached into his cloak and removed a duffle bag from seemingly nowhere. He threw it over by the and said, "I talked you into cutting your hair the same way I'm going to talk you into wearing those."

Reign raise his eyebrow at the strange wizard. He opened the bag cautiously, as if he were defusing a bomb. His eyes widened when he saw the clothes inside. "Guardian Corps surplus rags!? You have to be kidding me."

Eldridge turned back to the window and chirped, "Eh-eh"

"There is no way I'll wear this stuff! I don't care if we get thrown in a Xenotian jail the instant we step off this train!"

Eldridge looked at the boy from the corner of his eye and smiled that annoyingly insightful smile of his. "Don't be so self-righteous. The military look is all the rage these days with kids your age."

Reign pushed the bag off the seat and huffed, "Whatever…"

"Right", Eldridge sighed. "Well I know there's no use trying to talk any sense into that dense skull of your so…" He turned to the boy and smiled, "Aren't you curious about my plan?"

"You have a plan?" Reign said with a smirk.

"Don't sound so surprised!" Eldridge said as he shook his fist. "I'll have you know I have a perfect plan."

Reign rolled his eyes and sighed, "Do tell, oh-half baked one."

"It is not half baked!" The wizard protested, still shaking his fist. "We're going to do what I should have done ten years ago when I had the chance. We're going straight to the top, junior! We're going to assassinate King Ryvox."

Reign jumped up and exclaimed, "Are you insane!?" He then calmed himself and continued, "Wait, don't answer that. How the hell are we going to get to Ryvox? He never comes down from that floating city of his, and even when he does a small army surrounds him!"

Eldridge smiled and nodded, "Nervous?"

"Yes! Like a sane person should be!"

"Sanity is so overrated. Now mad genius… that's where it's at!" The wizard retorted and stood up as well. "Have you forgotten, birthday boy? Nocturnus begins tomorrow. King Ryvox is gunna have to come down to give that pompous speech of his."

Reign stroked his chin, "So we attack him then? What about the Corps?"

"Not an issue. You should know that I'm never that obvious. Are target will be his transport ship."

"What good would that do?"

"Velona will automatically shoot down anything that gets near it. The Celestials' private transport ships are the only things allowed within its defense parameter. The citadel's are manned by machines, so they'll welcome us in no questions asked."

Reign tried to hold back his smile. He hated to admit it, but the old nut actually had a decent plan. "How do we get to the ship?"

Eldridge smiled proudly, having gotten Reign's interest. "First we find out where its secret hangar is in Freete. Then we create a diversion on the other side of town. As the Guardian's scramble, a second group secures the transport ship, hijacks it, and we'll have until the end of Ryvox's speech to hightail it to Velona!" The wizard clapped his hands together and let out a hard laugh.

"Wait… Couldn't someone inform the king in the middle of his speech?"

"No, that's the genius! He broadcastes from some secret room in Freete, completely locked down, so nothing can interrupt him. The only time… and I mean the only time, Ryvox is ever purely focused is when he's doing his speeches. Don't know why myself, but not even his fellow Celestials could get through to him."

The hunter sighed and sat down next to Eldridge. "How do you know all this inside information, anyway?"

"Project M, junior! Believe it or not, it all started in Freete. That's when we gathered all the intelligence. I know what I'm talking about here."

Reign stared at the wizard for several moments then smiled. Eldridge nodded and whispered, "Genius… right?"

"Maybe? But I'm not smiling at that."

Eldridge looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. "What!?" He immediately covered his face and said in a muffled voice, "I got a booger in my nose, don't I? Dammit! I felt it, but I just didn't want to reach up and get it in the middle of my stirring speech, ya know?"

Reign shook his head and turned away, "No, you just look really excited."

Eldridge looked down and his face began to turn red. The hilt of his sword was moving around in his cloak near his waist. "Goddammit!!"

As the man struggled with the sword, he fell on to the cabin's floor and began to roll around. Much to Reign's amusement, though he did not laugh. Just then the conductor's voice rang of the intercom, "We'll be reaching Freete in five minutes. Please have you license ready for inspection upon departure. Thank you."

This message was edited by Zetram on Nov 28 2005.

Character Sheets
Couple things you should be aware of, character's must follow the license restrictions, and follow the achitypes I created. Also be aware that you will be place for or against Reign, but you will be given opportunities to switch up if you want.



Magic & Weapon Regulation Committee
Link

Side Note: There are 7 types of magic. Elemental Class (Water/ice, Fire, Lightning, and Earth), Divine Class (Light and Dark), and pure magic. True magic users can only use Elemental magic, but ether magic users can use all 7.

Licenses
Civilian: A license for the everyday Xenosian. All humans are issued one by the MSRA Committee upon their sixteenth birthday. After their eighteenth birthday they are allowed to apply for a more advanced licenses. Grade G-1

Slayers: A license for people who use weapons and/or magic to make a private living. Slayers are usually people who are contracted by small towns to slay fiends. They can also be private security personnel, bounty hunters, or gladiators. Up to Grade D

Hunters: A license for people who track and/or hunt fiends for a living. They are the only group allowed to tame and use magic. All hunters wear taming gauntlets for capturing wild fiends, even if they don't have a partner. Grade E

Healers: A license for people who use higher-level divine magic, but cannot use any assault magic. They are given the most magic liberties of any private citizens, except for wizards. Grade B-1 or B-2

Guardians: A license for people who have enlisted in the Republic of Xenotia's army. Guardians are allowed the most attack magic liberties. However they are at the beck and call of the Republic and their superiors. They are the policing force of Xenotia and hunt fiends on a global scale. Depends on rank, ranges from Grade E to B

Wizards: A license for people who have reached the second order of wizardry, or practitioner. They are the only beings on Xenos allowed to use any strength of type of true magic. Mostly they wonder the world perfecting their skills, molding their craft, and even teaching basic magic. Grade S



Shattered Destiny's Caste
Yes the character's a pre-made, but I think I left a lot for you to work with. I had to do this, because the story is flexible, but I need people to fall into pivital places in order to make it work. All characters, except the cowboy, have male and female counterparts. Just because your a guy doesn't mean you have RP as one

I'll be accepting sheets for about a week, then I'll choose the best ones to be in the RP. So please be creative.

The Rebel: Irish_Gamer
Name: Miarna Leks
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Job: Club owner/ Rebel leader
License: Slayer, Grade D-2e
Magic: lightning and water/ice.
Weapon: His father handed him a yew bow while on his deathbed. Told Miarna that the bow magically enhances accuracy of the bow, but Miarna hasn't seen any evidence of this thus far. Generally only carries this 5ft yew bow and arrows, but sometimes carries a dagger for extra protection.
Appearance: Standing at six foot exactly, Miarna has short thick brown hair, with hazel eyes. His skin his moderately tanned. He has the appearance of being quite scrawny, but in actuality is deceptively strong. The perfect build for a scout, he usually wears dark clothes and walks the streets at night, always looking for more recruits.
Personality: Focussed and determined, he has few friends and they rarely see him laugh. His father's death turned him into a cold person, and his only goal is the assassination of King Ryvox in a tribute to his father.
History: The son of a rebel group leader based in Capital City. His father was killed in a failed assassination attempt on King Ryvox over 10 years ago. Nearly the entire group was slain, leaving just a few survivors. He picked up where her father left off, but never forgave the man who left the group stranded when they need him most, Eldridge.
Other: Works extremely hard in keeping the rebel group active and training new recruits. Doesn't want to let his father's efforts be for nothing.

The Cowboy: TheGreatKayel
Name: Azreaux
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Job: Bounty Hunter
License: Slayer, Grade F-3e
Magic: Low level Fire, Dark, and Lightning
Weapon: Azreaux's weapon is what most would call a hand cannon. The bulky hunk of metal is, in most hands, unwieldy to say the least. Most people would have trouble even lifting it to fire its oversized .70 calibur rounds. Experience and persistence has taught Azreaux to use what was originally a tool for intimidation with an impressive level of proficiency. Even for him, however, it is difficult to fire successive rounds. As a result, the weapon is used less for actual firing, and more as a caster. Well aware of the limitation of his primary weapon, Azreaux also carries two smaller, more modern handguns, which he can conceal more easily and draw much faster.
Appearance: Cowboy by profession, cowboy by dress. Azreaux has naturally pale skin, which is accentuated by his dark brown trenchcoat and hat of matching color, giving his face a deep, mysterious darkness. His face is poorly shaven and his hair greasy and tangled. He did manage, through the use of his hat, to keep his shoulder length, sun streaked brown hair pulled back out of his face. This did nothing to make his face seem more human, as the brim of his hat cast a constant shadow over his bloodshot blue eyes. Both the hat and trenchcoat were fashioned of leather by Azreaux himself. Their imperfections and crude construction and stitching gave them an almost horrific appearance. It truely looked as though it was a living creature's flesh hung about his broad shoulders, not just a processed material.
Personality: The aloof type. Never lets anyone know what he's feeling or thinking. What emotion he does let slip would lead most to believe that he does not enjoy the kill, but rather lives for the hunt.
History: Born and raised in the Wild Lands. Well-known bounty hunter in Frenzia. Sent to bring in Eldridge dead or a live by anonymous benefactor. From an early age, Azreaux learned to appreciate and love the hunt, the sacred communion between man and beast. He was frequently scolded by his father, however, for setting his prey free once he had completed his quest. He quickly learned that the hunt bore no fruit without the kill, which he no interest in. Never the less, the kill was a part which he could not avoid. This was the primary motivation for the fields of magic which he studied. He found that dark, fire, and lightning magics were the quickest and most effective for ending the hunt. Eventually, Azreaux grew eager to find new, different hunts than those he could find in the Wild Lands. Seeking new challenges and dangers, he began working as a bounty hunter, letting his clients choose his hunts for him.

The Scientist: legendhunter
Name: Dr. Ivy Lilienfield
Sex: Female
Age: 31 years old
Race: Human
Occupation: Fiendish behaviorist and researche
License: Healer, B-2
Magic: Both light and dark
Weapon: None
Appearance: In keeping with the discipline of her rigorous profession, Dr. Lilienfield's appearance is unfussy and unimposing, giving her a severe, almost ascetic quality. Her speech is clipped and precise, her gestures few but emphatic; even her stride has the cool, businesslike efficiency that marks almost everything she does. Slight and pale to the point of translucence from long years of academia, she wears her coppery hair in a single thick braid down her back. Only a few errant strands escape to flutter about her small heart-shaped face, with its perpetually pursed mouth and wide, thoughtful grey-green eyes. Often, her hair and eyes seem to be the only points of color to be found, for she habitually wears white even outside the laboratory, preferring its clean simplicity and elegance.
Personality: Though a small, slender woman, Dr. Lilienfield exudes a surprisingly commanding presence through her intense dedication to her work and the intelligence and resourcefulness she brings to it. Perfected through a lifetime spent mastering the mysteries of science, hers is a mind widely respected for its cold, calculating analytical and deductive ability. She possesses a remarkable, almost single-minded devotion to her work. There is something about her at once poised, brilliant, uncompromising, and faintly disagreeable. Only those closest to her can look past her stern self-possession and see the deep warmth and compassion within. Though undemonstrative, she is capable of powerful loyalty and love and can be grimly unforgiving if she feels they have been betrayed.
History: Well-respected today for her many erudite publications discussing the behavior and genetics of fiends, Ivy Lilienfield had originally been reared to follow in her parents' and elder brother's footsteps as a wizard, practicing elemental magic. For years, she obeyed, excelling in her studies but forever aware of her brother's natural talent as a wizard. No matter how hard she competed against him, Ivy could never match his superiority and both hated and admired him for it.

However, when Ivy was nineteen and away at college, her brother died suddenly in a tragic accident at only twenty-one years of age. Her parents were devastated and to this day have never quite recovered from the loss of their son. Ivy too was beset with grief, regretting all the years she had detested her brother's gifts. With his death, she lost all interest in pursuing a life as a wizard and immediately transferred to a different university, with a wildly different future in mind. Rather than half-heartedly living her brother's life for him, she decided to follow her inner calling instead as a scientist. Though a middling wizard, Ivy had always scored high in biology and psychology, as well as showing especial brilliance in analyzing and deducing scientific challenges. She was quickly disowned by her parents for her change of heart, a move that upset her profoundly and eventually embittered her towards forming intimate relationships with anyone. Very few people have since managed to befriend her, though she has proved loyal and warmly generous to those who have remained close to her.

Nonetheless, Ivy quickly proved herself an exceptional scientist and chose to specialize in the little-researched study of fiendish biology and interactions. Driven by the memory of her dead brother, she has devoted herself entirely to her work, as though still competing with his ghost for the praise of her estranged family. She now works in a research division of the Xenotian government. Though deeply attached to and genuinely serious about her work---as proved by how she sacrificed her parents' support to pursue her current occupation---Ivy occasionally can't help feeling disgusted by the way the government treats the fiends who become her test subjects. Having known what it was like to be forced by others to be something contrary to her nature, she sympathizes with the struggles of the fiends against their captors.
Other: Though technically a healer and therefore a user of divine magic, Ivy has an unusually advanced knowledge of elemental magic due to her background of studying to be a wizard. In addition, due to her scientific training, her understanding of the nature of chaos and ether in general is deeper than most would suspect. While neither an avid or especially proficient user of magic in general, her expertise in these areas has helped her tremendously in the past when she has needed to call on her magic to aid her.

The Scientist II: Wyvern Knight Zero
Name: Robert Azrael
Age: 27
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Job: Engineer
License: Healer, B-#
Magic: Light and Dark.
Weapon: Robert Azrael uses a weapon that was actually intended to be an all-utility machine for excavating and mining in small amounts, long since shot down by Xenotian government ("You don't have much history on these kind of things At least, not as much as others. Our staff recommends that someone else is selected. Good day") . This machine is actually a light-weight, but not at all small backpack that has eight appendages that can be extended and wielded flexibly like a whip or stiff like a spear. These eight appendages have interchangeable drill-bits that Robert further customized when his plans for it were shot down. These customized drill bits can be at times not even drills, customizable between small hatchets, spears, whips, swords and many other items.
Appearance: At times Robert Azreal seems to be nothing in terms of sexuality; it is very hard to determine whether or not Robert is a male or female by looking at him. His face seems powdery and pale, with blue eyes that are soft and make him appear a female, but then one sees his slightly crooked nose and their opinion is changed. He has braided dreadlocks of radiant blond hair that travel all the way down to his sunken and skinny midsection. He is of average height and has no muscle, due to his lack of workout (or need of it).
Personality: Eccentric is the best way to describe him going against the norm of everyone around him, and above him like his superiors. Apart from that, he is at many time a sadist critic, criticizing the things his colleagues invent, suggest or even merely speak out as a passing notion. Goes off on tangents often, especially right after he is shot down or when he is rabbling on about something in his anger. Very "Outside the box" thinker, but he often scolds himself for it as his inventions and products of his 'superior' mind are constantly looked down upon. However, his kind of lateral thinking can get himself out of tight spots, ranging from unemployment or downsizing all the way to actual pain and danger.
History: Eccentric genius, who works for the Xenotian government developing weapons and robotic, having been thoroughly fascinated and taken with them during his youth. Utterly bored with slaving away at the development plant, and having most of his ideas shot down or changed(there are only 4 things that have made it into actual patented inventions that were not changed, and even then they have lawsuits pertaining to them by people stating they were the inventors of the weapons . Robert is looking for any excuse to break free and truly design what he wants because the hard curriculum of the government is not what he wants as his curriculum.

The Soldier: Fayde
Name: Angelina Naru
Age: 21
Sex: Female
Race: Human
Job: Lieutenant Commander in the Guardian Corps
License: Guardian, C-3
Magic: Fire, Lightning, Earth
Weapon: A celestial spear handed down to her by her family. It has a crossguard where the blade and pole meet to block weapons such as swords. At the end of the pole is a small blade allowing her to use it as well. The spear is lined with gold along the pole and the crossguard.
Appearance: Wears a guardian officer's bodysuit. Just like Celestials, but royal blue with silver trim. Green eyes and stands roughly at 5'9. She also has a necklace with sapphire (her birthstone) around her neck.
Personality: Strong sense of right and wrong. However the sense of duty often overpowers it. Many times she has been tempted to disobey orders becuase of this sense of right and wrong. The only reason she is an officer is because of her skill in the field. Many times she has argued with HQ about certain objectives.
History: From a long line of Guardians. Father is a Commodore, the highest rank a human can reach. Since birth she has been groomed to follow in her father's footsteps. Her rare talent at using true magic, and her family's influence has helped advance in rank early in her career. She is only a step away from being a Commander, however she must truly prove herself in order to be promoted to her current goal, Captain. Her mother died from an illness when she was only 10. With only her father and brother as her family, she sees her aunt as another mother.
Other: N/A

The Wanderer: Krimson_Dragon
Name: Deaqon
Age: 44
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Job: Freelance Hunter
License: Hunter, E-1t
Magic: Lightning
Weapon: Dragon Spear - A spear honed to its ultimate sharpness. The spear itself is approx. 1' long and 3 in. wide. Said to be carved from the fang of a dragon. The shaft is diamond white in color, and is 5' long. The spear is able to detach from the shaft with the push of a discreet button on the shaft. It is linked together by a chain. The shaft itself is collapseable into three sections. Opposite the spear is a golden orb.
Appearance: 6'6, 145 pounds. Despite being 44 he still has a sinewy build. Short spiky dirty blonde hair, which ends in a braid. Wears a cloak over baggy pants, and a dark blue sleeveless shirt. Black hiking boots. Both of his arms are taped. He has a taming gauntlet on his left arm.
Personality: Wise old vagrant. Just trying to make a buck, and find some adventure.
History: Has been a hunter for over 20 years. He met his fiend Gigon, in the woods, while searching for a particularly dangerous fiend. They have become inseparable ever since.
Other: Gigon is a rare breed, or so he's heard. His body is that of a lion, with the head and tail of a dragon. Gigon's fur is red in color with scale like patterns all around. His back has a row of spikes trailing its length. Gigon is capable of using fire magic.

This message was edited by Zetram on Nov 13 2005.

Miarna was sitting behind his desk, dressed in a dark suit, with black shirt and black tie. Behind his desk the wall was covered in screens, cameras not only monitoring the club but various nearby streets. The desk was littered with various pages with building plans and writing on them. He ignored his two visitors for a moment, before standing up and shaking the young mans hand. He ignored the wizard.

"Miarna Leks… I don't believe we've met," he said politely. The young man nodded to him.

"Reign Haddon."

"Now that we're all acquainted…" he said, but Reign cut him off suddenly.

"But we're not all acquainted, you've just ignored - "

"Eldridge. I know perfectly well who the wizard is, thank you very much. What do you want old man?"

"You're help," Eldridge whispered. He had been standing back until this point had stepped forward with his hands beneath his coat, no doubt holding down his floating sword. Miarna nearly chocked on a gulp of water he had taken.

"Help? Help?! After what you've done to this place? You nearly destroyed us Eldridge. We could have gotten stronger after he died with more sympathy recruits, but you left. You abandoned us without a word. It'll take a lot of explaining on your part to gain my help," he said standing up suddenly and pacing the room. Eldridge moved forwards and had a pleading look in his eye.

"Your father and I were friends, Miarna. You know that. You know I wouldn't leave unless I had good reason. And believe me, I had good reason," he said, gesturing towards Reign. Both of the younger men looked confused for a moment. Then, Miarna sat down, leaning back in his chair.

"I'm listening."

Deaqon and Gigon were strolling through the streets of Freete. He was in dire need of money. No one wanted an old hunter anymore. Let alone a vagrant. Though time and time again he proved them wrong. Every place he looked, he got shunned. He entered a bar to grab a little drink with what he had left. He walked up to the bar, "Keep, gimme what you got." Deaqon threw the money on the counter.

"Heh, that won't get you much." He reached below the counter and brought a shot glass. He poured whiskey into it. Though only went half full. "There ya go." Deaqon looked at the glass, and took it down in one try. "Bah, not enough." With that he left the bar, and continued his trek. Hoping to find another drink.

He soon came upon a club, and ventured within. The place was filled with patrons.

For some odd reason, both he and his fiend Gigon were drawn to this place. He had left Gigon outside, for the club allowed no fiends within. He found a table near the back. He had found a bit money on the ground. Hopefully it was enough to buy him a real drink.

He waved on a waiter, and she took his order. Deaqon began to scan the crowd, when something golden caught his eye. It was coming down the stairs to which presumably lead to the owner's office. He instantly recognized is as belonging to a wizard who helped him sometime ago. He was with someone. A boy.

"Interesting. Very interesting." He muttered to himself. The waiter came back with a good sized glass of whiskey. "Just what I needed." He took a swig, as he continued to watch the wizard.

Angel strolled lazily along the crowded streets of downtown.
"Its so boring doing these all day, I don't see why we need to patrol 24-7..." she muttered to herself. It was getting late and she needed something to drink. Fortunately there was a bar coming up. Tied up outside was a fiend. She entered the bar and ordered a whiskey. She payed up and gulped it in one swig.
"Another." she said as she handed the barkeep the money. She glanced to her right and there sitting looked like a hunter. He smelled horribly. After a few more drinks she left the bar. On the way she caught glimpse of an old man, apparently a wizard. He looked oddly familiar. A flash of gold flashed from behind his cloak and he hastily shove it back in his cloak.
"Crazy wizards. That whiskey must've been stronger than I thoght... Nice place they got here though. Nice place to get wasted at." She left the bar and continued her patrol. A little more dizzy this time.

Deaqon spotted the old wizard leaving the club, and decided why to investigate why he was in Freete. He waited until the wizard was out the door, and then he stood up from his seat to follow. As he reached the street, he scanned left to right, looking for the wizard. He finally spotted the wizard turning into what seemed to be an alley.

Soon, another person stepped into the alley after him. This new guy seemed to be wearing cowboy attire. "Bounty Hunter... Why would Eldridge have a bounty on his head?"

He made his way through the crowded street trying to get to the alley. Gigon keeping stride easily. Though one would expect nothing less. The townspeople moved out of his way. Though Deaqon could see a gleam in some of their eyes. He knew they wanted Gigon.

He finally reached the alleyway, though he hugged the wall, so as not to be seen. He dared to sneak a peek around the corner. There beside the wizard were two great chunks of rock. Behind them were two gaping holes in the wall. The cowboy was holding a gun to Eldridge. Deaqon waited to see how this played out. He didn't know whether to help the wizard, or help the cowboy. The results of each action playing through his head, as he decided which would benefit him more.

Deep within the sterile white depths of the Research and Development laboratories in Plant A-002, the entire world seemed to hold its breath as Dr. Ivy Lilienfield gently drew a syringe full of blood from her most recent fiendish test subject. Her handful of lab assistants watched nervously, eyeing the fiend's gleaming, pointed teeth so close to Dr. Lilienfield's face. When the terrifying beast gave a sudden twitch throughout his massive body, one of the assistants cried out in apprehension.

Yet Dr. Lilienfield herself seemed hardly ruffled. As gently as before, she withdrew the needle and held the syringe up to the light, filled to the brim with viscous bluish-violet blood. She whispered a few soft words to the fiend and stepped away, causing a collective sigh of relief from her assistants. The fiend itself seemed mostly unperturbed, its tiny eyes blinking slowly as Dr. Lilienfield headed back to the analysis chamber.

"Make sure you don't misclassify the samples this time," she called over her shoulder to her assistants. Briskly, she pipetted a little of the blood into an old-fashioned petri dish and slid it under the high-powered microscope, tucking a strand of coppery hair behind her ear. Her movements were as smooth and sure as ever, the unwavering intensity in her expression as tangible a sign of her scientific acumen as the long white lab coat she wore.

It had always been this way, the lab assistants thought. Nothing seemed to penetrate the cool efficiency that was rapidly becoming a legend around the labs. The woman seemed less afraid of the fierce, carnivorous fiends than some mothers were of their own children. Some of the more experienced assistants had seen fingers lost and limbs mutilated for the sake of a routine blood sample, but Dr. Lilienfield seemed to possess an uncanny empathy for the inhuman beasts that left no room for fear. Murmuring amongst themselves, they returned to their work stations, waiting as the data from the blood sample showed up on their monitors.

Hearing their murmurs, Ivy smiled to herself as she continued entering the figures. No one had ever been able to understand, let alone duplicate, how naturally her job came to her or how much of her energy and time she poured into it. Uncomprehending, they had learned to respect her, even to defer to her, to look on her with a kind of awe. Her smile changed a little. She had felt that way toward someone once, a long time ago. For a moment, a vision of her brother's laughing eyes crossed her mind, and she bowed her head, as though in meditation, or in regret. She had never known anyone else to match him, over a decade after his death. Perhaps it was because of him that it was so easy for her to identify with the fiends. How many years had she spent in his shadow, trying to mold herself into an image that wasn't her own? How long had she too felt like a caged beast? She understood too well that the fiends didn't belong her, that the government had captured them against their wills and brought them here to be probed, quantified, studied. She understood.

She shook her head. "Back to work," she muttered, seeing how many lines of analysis still remained blank. She bent over the microscope again, utterly unmindful of everything else that might be happening in the world around her.

Miarna laughed awkwardly as he and Reign sat opposite one another, both at a loss as to what to say. He felt a strange liking towards the kid, but at the same time there was a burning resentment in the pit of his stomach. This kid was the reason his father died. But at the same time, Eldridge's abandonement ended up giving him an opportunity to finally rid Xenos of Ryvox. Once and for all.

He caught Reign giving him a studying look. He flashed a smile before leaning forward slightly.

"Sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to be so rash when I said I lost my father because of you. After all, I think your loss might be slightly greater."

Reign stared at him for a moment longer before shrugging nervously.

"There's always a chance at revenge, though, eh?" he gave Miarna a weak smile. Miarna nodded before returning to his screens. He noticed Eldridge in a back-alley. He was facing a bounty hunter… in fact, it was Azreaux, one of the most deadly bounty hunters known in Xenos.

"Uh… did you know Eldridge had a bounty on his head?" Miarna said over his shoulder. Reign stood up suddenly, moving beside Miarna and studying the screen.

"The old man didn't say anything. Then again, he's a much better wizard then most people think… he should be able to handle himself…" Reign shrugged again before returning to his seat. Miarna glanced nervously at the screen again before sitting down.

"I'm not so sure. That's Azreaux he's facing. The deadliest bounty hunter in Xenos, or so rumour tells it. I've heard he's never missed out on a target."

"Eldridge should be fine, but maybe we should keep an eye and swoop in there and break it up if necessary. How come you didn't know about the bounty on his head anyway?" Reign asked, suddenly suspicious. Miarna merely shrugged.

"Our network isn't what it used to be. The club is the main source of our wealth, and most of the profits are spent on wages and drinks. Anything that's left over isn't enough to buy the services of anyone half-decent at bounty hunting or scouting or spying. Nobody has the feel for rebellion anymore. I think it died with my father," he finished suddenly in a whisper. Reign shuffled nervously in his chair.

"Maybe they'll get the feel of it again once we rid them of Ryvox."

"Maybe."