(Spoke with Erik and was permitted to introduce this character for the short period I am on leave. If anyone wants to encounter him via forum rp, pm me 
)
The desert sun shone down hot as the dry wind blew the long strings of sands from the cliff tops. Eagels circled overhead as silence hung like a blanket over the land.
A crack like lightening split the silence and a whizzing tore through the air. A wooden target's knee exploded into splinters and the prone miqo'te smiled as a voice buzzed through the linkpearl in his ear.
"Excellent shot, sir. Right in the knee."Â
The miqo'te pulled his right eye away from the scope of his massive rifle and blinked the blue optic. His left eye opened and it shone a blood red as he reached for another tall bullet encased in brass. His nimble fingers spun the round through them as he used his thumb to open the feed cover and then slipped the bullet back in. He then pulled the fireing pin back with a click and returned his face to the stock of his rifle.
The miqo'te was prone on the edge of the cliff. His target was down below him at a range of half a mile. Two instuments buzzed beside him, spinning as they calculated wind speed and magnetic feilds. Â Flame Leuitenant A'trus "Loft" M. had always excelled at hunting prey. Even back when he was part of his tribe, he had been one of the best hunters. Now, after ten years in the service of Ul'dah, at age twenty-nine, he was considered one of the best trackers and rifleman in the service. An officer who never questioned orders and whose unit always returned with their targets, even if it took longer than expected.
A'trus slowed his breathing as he aimed at the target below. He had earned the nickname "Loft" from his habit of always having the high ground. A character trait some claimed made him to predictable. But with his rifle, it didn't matter. A'trus got his prey, alive.Â
The brown haired seeker fired. Â His bullet spun thanks to the double rifling cut into the barrel's core. The large pay load then peirced the air and raced across the distance. Several seconds later the wooden traget's other knee exploded and the officer grined again, flashing white teeth as he opened his mis-matched eyes and rose to his feet.
Several pairs of hands were clapping and he turned and blushed at three of his soldiers.
"Don't you all have work to be doing?" A'trus said as he brushed the sand from his shirt and paints before hefting the rifle up into his arms.
"Sir, we don't. Gear is all packed and we are ready to roll soon as orders get here." replied Sergeant Rungee, a dark skined hyur with a talent for traps.Â
"Looks like we won't be waiting long." A'trus remarked as a distant form drew closer.
Twenty minutes later, a Flame messenger rode up and handed A'trus a wrapped letter. The officer nodded and saluted before he took it. The Seeker's eyes read over it, then paused. He frowned and read the orders again and then looked at the messenger.Â
"This isn't an excercise?" A'trus said carefully. The messenger nodded, clearly uncomfortable in his uniform in the sweltering heat. A'trus blinked and then read the letter one last time.
"Well piss on my grave." A'trus said at last as he licked his lips. "Team. You have one bell to have all of our gear loaded and you in your uniforms. Rungee, I want you getting in contact with our scouts. They have new targets and they will be moving hard and fast. Â We are to bring them in alive, standard procedure."
A'trus' soldiers began moving swiftly as they began loading weapons and boxes into wagons. Rungee came over to his officer and lowered his voice.
"Who's the target?"
A'trus looked at his sergeant carefully.
"Some birds who need their wings clipped. Red Wings to be exact."
"Thal's Balls." Rungee scowled at that. "The whole organization? Who ordered this?"
"Doesn't matter." A'trus said as he walked over to a coat hung from a wagon. The officer swung his uniform coat onto his shoulders and fastened the clamps. " We have a job to do. Moment you get a bite on one of these Red Wings, you let me know. Till then Im going to get their files and figure out what sort if rounds I need."
"Standard we hunt, you shoot?" Rungee chuckled as he saluted. A'trus saluted back and grinned.
"The standard."
)The desert sun shone down hot as the dry wind blew the long strings of sands from the cliff tops. Eagels circled overhead as silence hung like a blanket over the land.
A crack like lightening split the silence and a whizzing tore through the air. A wooden target's knee exploded into splinters and the prone miqo'te smiled as a voice buzzed through the linkpearl in his ear.
"Excellent shot, sir. Right in the knee."Â
The miqo'te pulled his right eye away from the scope of his massive rifle and blinked the blue optic. His left eye opened and it shone a blood red as he reached for another tall bullet encased in brass. His nimble fingers spun the round through them as he used his thumb to open the feed cover and then slipped the bullet back in. He then pulled the fireing pin back with a click and returned his face to the stock of his rifle.
The miqo'te was prone on the edge of the cliff. His target was down below him at a range of half a mile. Two instuments buzzed beside him, spinning as they calculated wind speed and magnetic feilds. Â Flame Leuitenant A'trus "Loft" M. had always excelled at hunting prey. Even back when he was part of his tribe, he had been one of the best hunters. Now, after ten years in the service of Ul'dah, at age twenty-nine, he was considered one of the best trackers and rifleman in the service. An officer who never questioned orders and whose unit always returned with their targets, even if it took longer than expected.
A'trus slowed his breathing as he aimed at the target below. He had earned the nickname "Loft" from his habit of always having the high ground. A character trait some claimed made him to predictable. But with his rifle, it didn't matter. A'trus got his prey, alive.Â
The brown haired seeker fired. Â His bullet spun thanks to the double rifling cut into the barrel's core. The large pay load then peirced the air and raced across the distance. Several seconds later the wooden traget's other knee exploded and the officer grined again, flashing white teeth as he opened his mis-matched eyes and rose to his feet.
Several pairs of hands were clapping and he turned and blushed at three of his soldiers.
"Don't you all have work to be doing?" A'trus said as he brushed the sand from his shirt and paints before hefting the rifle up into his arms.
"Sir, we don't. Gear is all packed and we are ready to roll soon as orders get here." replied Sergeant Rungee, a dark skined hyur with a talent for traps.Â
"Looks like we won't be waiting long." A'trus remarked as a distant form drew closer.
Twenty minutes later, a Flame messenger rode up and handed A'trus a wrapped letter. The officer nodded and saluted before he took it. The Seeker's eyes read over it, then paused. He frowned and read the orders again and then looked at the messenger.Â
"This isn't an excercise?" A'trus said carefully. The messenger nodded, clearly uncomfortable in his uniform in the sweltering heat. A'trus blinked and then read the letter one last time.
"Well piss on my grave." A'trus said at last as he licked his lips. "Team. You have one bell to have all of our gear loaded and you in your uniforms. Rungee, I want you getting in contact with our scouts. They have new targets and they will be moving hard and fast. Â We are to bring them in alive, standard procedure."
A'trus' soldiers began moving swiftly as they began loading weapons and boxes into wagons. Rungee came over to his officer and lowered his voice.
"Who's the target?"
A'trus looked at his sergeant carefully.
"Some birds who need their wings clipped. Red Wings to be exact."
"Thal's Balls." Rungee scowled at that. "The whole organization? Who ordered this?"
"Doesn't matter." A'trus said as he walked over to a coat hung from a wagon. The officer swung his uniform coat onto his shoulders and fastened the clamps. " We have a job to do. Moment you get a bite on one of these Red Wings, you let me know. Till then Im going to get their files and figure out what sort if rounds I need."
"Standard we hunt, you shoot?" Rungee chuckled as he saluted. A'trus saluted back and grinned.
"The standard."
