Forlorn Death: The Initiative

**Dead Sun** · August 30, 2009, 03:51 AM

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

It has been two years now since the incident at Saltwood and Hythe, where the population had been completely wiped out by the acts of the two men who go by the name of Adrian Theoric and Klaus Deschlangler. The four knights and the bishop whom responded to a mysterious letter written in blood had arrived, apparently, two weeks too late. The village had already died, nothing had been left. No man, woman, child, not even dogs or cats, no chickens, and even the fires that warmed the houses had been doused. Sir Lanciao Anarelli, Sir Reginald Willard, Bishop Walter de Bolbec, Duke Marcus Polo III and Baron Gareth Reece-Llewllyn IV had all arrived far too late to help. They began to wonder why they had arrived, but it all became far too clear when the bishop was killed almost instantly by one of the two men. Lanciao was able to wound him, but to no avail, the wound did not seem to slow him. Everything that happened next faded from memory. Legends of shadow warriors, a shaded messenger from nowhere, and the brutally deformed and warped girl only mounted suspicions, in later times, that these events had not actually happened. Whatever did happen, however, led on to their next stage: The initiative.

Lanciao had taken it upon himself to search for these men, and he had scoured over almost all of Europe, and his sources led him back to England. He had reason to believe that Adrian and Klaus were in Ireland, and that they were smuggling their own men into England. What he didnt know, however, was that Adrian and Klaus were actally IN England, and setting about completing their second phase...

The King was awoken in the middle of the night with the sounds of scurrying. He would have almost immediately dismissed it as rats and dealt with it in the morning, but something in his gut told him that this was not rats. He rose from his bed, threw a gown over himself and grabbed his sword, unsheathing it as stepped lightly down the rock stairs of castle. The scurrying grew louder and faster as Edward drew closer to his Grand Hall, voices become audible half way down the stairs. He was one man, and from the sounds of things, against twelve, and he was unarmoured. He swallowed his fear, lying back against the wall that circled down the stairs, held his sword up to his face as he began to breathe heavily, ready for death. He almost rand down the last half of the stairs, and the men had obviously heard him for they began to run about too. When Edward came to the clearing, into the Grand Hall, he skidded down onto his knees, believing an attack to approach from behind, but when none occured it became evident that no-one was there... but the dead men piled on the ground...

No longer was there just Adrian and Klaus, but there many more than three score of men equal to their talents in the country, and they had just murdered 6 Barons and 6 Knights, and left them in the Kings Grand Hall...

OOC: Ok, open rp, post your guys experiences with these assassins and the story will flow on from there

Hope you enjoy!

**Watercress** · August 30, 2009, 04:05 AM

Henry snoozed in his lounge. He often fell asleep by 8 o'clock, so rarely was found in his bed, rather in his chair in the lounge. Owain was sleeping in his room, and the myestrious eastern fellow had acciqured his own and akin sleeped. However, not all was quiet that very night in the Germati castle. Quiet footsteps, and scurrying sounds suddenly woke the Duke.

'Who..whos there?' he whispered, nervous.

He got up, carefully backing to a bookcase, and pulled a arequbus, covered in black cloth, from the bookcase. He removed the cloth and checked the weapon. It t'was loaded, to Henry's great glee. Much less so when he heard a knife go into a guard, not to far from him. henry was scared now.

'OWAIN, DUHA! get in here now!'

**René Artois** · August 30, 2009, 06:57 AM

Originally Posted by Master Magic Mage

Henry snoozed in his lounge. He often fell asleep by 8 o'clock, so rarely was found in his bed, rather in his chair in the lounge. Owain was sleeping in his room, and the myestrious eastern fellow had acciqured his own and akin sleeped. However, not all was quiet that very night in the Germati castle. Quiet footsteps, and scurrying sounds suddenly woke the Duke.

'Who..whos there?' he whispered, nervous.

He got up, carefully backing to a bookcase, and pulled a arequbus, covered in black cloth, from the bookcase. He removed the cloth and checked the weapon. It t'was loaded, to Henry's great glee. Much less so when he heard a knife go into a guard, not to far from him. henry was scared now.

'OWAIN, DUHA! get in here now!'

Owain awoke from his slumber hearing a terrible cry from his master, Henry, calling for help. Panicking, he grabbed his long dagger and ran towards the hall, where heard the shout from.

Don't panic! He shouted as he sprinted past a tapestry. Seconds later, he was in the doorway to the hall, and could see Henry standing there, still, a loaded Arquebus in his hand. He saw a figure behind Henry, and with a loud Welsh warcry, launched himself at the attacker, dagger held up in front of him, ready to use some of the skills, he had picked up, reading.

ooc: mmm you can decide what happens next

**KoS** · August 30, 2009, 06:35 AM

Across the country in London, Alphonse Capone sat in his rented apartment. Plagued by insomnia since he had arrived in England, he was up at such an incredibly late hour reading several exotic manuscripts he had collected, including an account written by his brother John while on a merchanting expedition in a land called China. It looked like fiction, but Gianni Capone was not one to jest.

Suddenly, he heard a faint sound. Capone stopped and quietly set the manuscript down, then rose in the darkness and crouched down behind a desk, drawing his rapier. Not a moment later, the door burst open, and a hooded man discharged a hand cannon at the chair where Alphonse had been just a few seconds before. Capone brought the sword down upon his neck.

Moments later, the assassin lay in a pool of his own blood, and Capone stood in awe of the power of gunpowder technology. There was barely anything left of the chair. Fortunately, the manuscript remained untouched and, more importantly, the intended victim was unscathed.

Gathering his possessions - and the empty handgun - Capone mounted the nearest horse and left London in the dead of night. As he rode to speak with England's foremost gunpowder expert, Duke Germati, he wondered who would have ordered his assassination, let alone have known that he was England for the first time in nearly a decade. His mind going in dozens of directions at once, he began the long journey to [wherever Germati's the duke of, forgot].

**Dead Sun** · August 30, 2009, 08:14 AM

Gareth had been woken up by one of his servants, this one a little girl, explaining that a patient had come down with some sort of plague. Gareth sighed, for it was shortly after the time when the moon had reached its peak. Sliding out of bed, half reluctantly, he pulled a gown over himself and was prepared for a horde of worried peasants to surroun him as he made his way to the diseased abode. Strangely, however, as he emerged into the open, feeling the warm wind stroke his face, there was no crowd, not even a single crying mother or wife.

Gareth, in his tired state, yawned a little and trudged off in the direction his servant was going, trusting that she knew where the ailing person resided. He barely lifted his feet off the floor, but he was busy concentrating on getting a piece of cloth and string to tie around his face. He would need to use tench slime, rosewater, and, Gareths favourite medicine, Motherwort. Plague hadnt struck for decades, so Gareth half expected this to be a bad case of influenza.

When Gareth rose his head, for he had been blindl following his servant, the two were now outside the walls of Le Vierre. Gareth looked around, confused, seeing nothing save night, cliffs, and the servant whom had led him there. The girl was still, not moving the slightest muscle. Ten heartbeats seemed like an eternity, but between this space of seconds Gareth face moulded as he became to realise what was happening. Out there, in front of him, the little servant girl whom had led him to an ailing person...

was not the little girl whom lived in his fort. It was probable that the little girl was dead now...

**Watercress** · August 30, 2009, 08:44 AM

Henry ducked as the knife went over his head, and jumped behind his chair. Owain rushed to the thug, knife drawn. however the man struck owain with his fist before he could strike, sending him sprawling. However, Suddenly,

BOOM!

The man fell to the floor, in a mass of smoke and shrapnel. when it had cleared, henry looked up. He couldn't beleive he had just shot this man. there was a great wound on the man's chest from the blow. However, suddenly, more shadows moved. And a flicker of fire was seen in the darkness. 'THE FORGE!'

**René Artois** · August 30, 2009, 09:19 AM

Owain lost all conciousness momentarilly. He awoke to find himself on the floor, nose bleeding profusely, his knife in the corner. The room was filled with smoke and although dazed, he could see his master standing there, and he knew the mysterious figure mus have been dealt with.
What...what happened?, he said slowly, confused as why Henry had shouted, "the Forge"

**Dead Sun** · August 30, 2009, 02:16 PM

The girl didnt say anything, she began trudging slowly towards Gareth. He began to back away for he was unarmed and up against, he knew, was a highly skilled assassin. She quickened her pace to a light canter, her blade dropping below her waist. Gareth was on the verge of panicking, his heart pounding furiously at the fright that set itself deep in his mind. He began contemplating a horde of ideas: roll over and die, die honourably, try and kill the girl (but he had no weapons), make a desperate dash for the Fort, try and disarm the assailant...

That was his option. As the girl broke into a full sprint, forgetting jogging, Gareth planted himself solidly in the ground, legs set wide and low, as if he was riding a horse. He held his arms level with his waist, and began to sway and hop quickly. The girl closed in fast, moving off to the side to try and hit Gareth on his flank, but Gareth did not inch from his original position. Gareth had hoped, because she looked young, that she was less skilled than her brethren assassins. He was gravely mistaken. As she came withn striking distance, Gareth launched towards her, taking a side step along the way. She had reacted faster than an eagle, and launched in the air, kicking Gareth on the shoulder. As he moved, he became unbalanced and swayed a little. It took him a couple of seconds to regain his balance, by which time the girl had moved behind him and held the blade at his back. He felt the cold steel, through his gown, and his mind seemed to wander for the slightest millisecond, but he seemed to change. He shifted his shoulder blade, dislodging the blade from its spot, and span quickly with a hook punch to hit the girl.

She wasnt where he had determined however. Holding the blade at his back, she had crouched in the hope of drawing the blade down the back and pushing it through his gut. She was surprised at Gareth's spin, but his punch hit open air. She span with her blade, slamming a leg into the back off his knee. He folded with a grunt, and fell to his knees...

**René Artois** · August 30, 2009, 02:26 PM

ooc: pwned!

**Dead Sun** · August 30, 2009, 04:07 PM

Gareth shook his head as he felt the blade stroke his neck lightly

I suppose your going to kill me for whatever reason you can fathom, so why not just do it?

The little girl laughed, and brought her lips close to his ear

Oh no... that would be far too e!?

Gareth hurled his head backwards, breaking her nose instantly and dislodging three of her teeth. The back of Gareths head was bleeding from the attack, but the girls head had launched back from blow and the sword drawn away without harm to him. He got to his feet and made some distance between him and the girl. She still held the blade in her hand, so she still needed disarming. She was crying slightly from the shocking attack, and her face was drenched in blood, but she still faced him with her head up and her blade pointed towards him from an outstretched hand. She advanced on him, walking at first, but Gareth squatted again, forming the same shape he had before.

Her vision was blured from the tears, and as she gained speed she became aware that the blood was seeping out of her nose uncontrollably. Her legs felt weak, as a result, and her footing became clumsy. She staggered with the minor bumps in the ground. Gareth launched at her when she was close enough, but she had already given up, fainting from the blood loss. Taking the sword away from her and throwing it away, Gareth picked the girl up and headed back to his Fort...

**Ace_General** · August 30, 2009, 05:44 PM

OOC: Can I join this, or am I too late

I think my character would be good snice he is a former teutonic knight

**Samurai_Friar** · September 06, 2009, 05:34 PM

Lanciao was perfectly silent. He motioned to Brother Ubaldo to open the cellar. As soon as it opened, several figures leapt out. Both men swung their swords with amazing speed and accuracy. However, one man managed to run off. Lanciao saw him nodded at Ubaldo and took off after the escaping man. Lanciao saw the man moving as utterly fast as possible. Grabbing a ladder, the man scrambled up a building and began running from roof to roof. Lanciao followed up in pursuit, and was chasing him rooftop to rooftop. Lanciao felt the sweat flying off him as he saw the man stop at the edge of a roof. The man grinned at Lanciao and stepped off. However, what the man didn't know was that his get-away wagon full of hay, had had bricks placed in it, and that the original driver was dead. A sickening crunch greeted Lanciao as he heard the man's body break under the impact. Looking over the edge, he saw a familiar face. Brother Ubaldo smiled at him from the driver's seat.
Another Night house down, and who knows how many more to go. Thought Lanciao as he sheathed his sword. He then began the slow and tedious process of climbing down a rope he had brought for such an occasion.

OOC: Just join. Its open rp right now.