Askier

I always suspected Alexei!

I'm sorry what was that Kage? I could't hear you over the sound of the cerelium bomb I planted under your house arming. . . I mean what? Lol

You know, it is physically possible to swing a shovel and have it make contact with someone's head while standing beside them Roen . . . Also put me till midnight CDT though normally can be later. Edit. Also he did learn his lesson. He learned that Roe are not to be trusted.

I would kill to add Roen to the coolest spy team in Eorzea... That said put me down for 7 days a week, 0045-0400 eastern. Say the word boss man and she'll be hit in the back of the head with a shovel and dragged to our base. I promise not to hire any Roe this time. . . Learned that lesson. Lol.

We could always kidnap Roen again and press gang her into working for the Red Wings. . . *innocent whistle*

I can be there most night after 9 CST.

Help help! I'm being repressed!

This is the perfect opportunity for a photo BOMB . . .

Get back to work and stop drinking tea! *sticks funnel in mouth and pours entire kettle tea down his throat before tossing both funnel and kettle.aside and starts jumping around with detonator in hand* Caffinecaffinecaffinecaffinecaffinecafffineilovemyselfcaffinemakesmesowiredandhyperloveitloveitloveitlovecaffinecaffinecaffineallmine

*straps explosives to the pillar and hooks wires to detonator* Give me all the gils or the pillar gets it!

[align=center]What if....[/align] [align=center]Askier had gone to the truce meeting with Kahn'a, Kanaria and Osric...[/align] [align=center]intent on setting the bomb off instead of working with them?[/align] The miqo'te's one, good, golden eye blinked as it dilated, an eye patch covering his left, ruined optic. His brown hair was slicked back and his coat hung tight to his body. The Garlean flexed both of this hands, scars and cuts covering them both from all the fighting he had done with them as of late. A flask of whiskey was neatly tucked inside his coat pocket, resting beside a longer, heavier metal object. Something he had picked up from Jin'li not hours before. Askier took another step into the Arrzaneth Ossuary and gazed around, sniffing the hair. The first scent he caught was the odor of whiskey on his breath. The second was hints of cerelium on his coat, a residue left over from his final alterations to his bomb, which now churned and spun, somewhere hidden deep inside the city. Askier felt his stomach knot. He knew what was going to happen to all the innocent people, how so many would die in an instant. Kanaria had almost used that feeling against. She had convinced him to come to this meeting so that they could work out truce. Askier had agreed. But he had changed his mind. He wasn't about to rely on other people to help him now, especially his enemies! Not after he had done so much on his own. Raven and Delial were the only allies he needed. And he had already sent letters to them both telling them to get out of town. The bomb would go off, Ul'dah would vanish, and Saravena, his beloved little sister, would be free at last. Askier sniffed the air then and caught the whiff of the female hyur nearby. Askier had to hide his growl. She was a mole. He had figured out she wasn't on his side, but Kahn'a, that pathetic excuse for a Flame. That stupid kit and his bow. The Garlean strode across the room to the side wall, lined with book shelves. There they were. All three of them. "Being late has it advantages." Askier mouthed to himself as he smiled arrogantly. His right hand flexing. He had deliberately waited, giving them time to all gather. Osric, Kahn'a, Kanaria. Osric and Kanaria sat at the table while Kahn'a stood against the wall. They all fixed him with their eyes as he approached, the tension evident in their faces. Except Osric's. That hyru wore that stupid mask again. Always that stupid mask. Askier flashed a wicked grin at him. "How's the knee?" Askier jeered at Osric, recalling the fight where he had shattered the man's joint. The mouth beneath the mask scowled and Askier straightened. He knew he had the control at that moment. Having a bomb ticking on a timer made him akin to a god. "You're late." Osirc replied sternly. "Askier." Kanaria said softly, standing. She fixed him with her lavender eyes. It was obvious she was trying to defuse the situation. Askier's expression hardened at her. She had promised Askier that Kahn'a would be dead after he had left him in the street once Raven had finished torturing him. She was a mole. No mercy. "Just keep your pretty little mouth shut, alright, Kanaria?" Askier spat motioning with his head at Kahn'a. "I get whom you're loyal to." There was an awkward pause and Kahn'a gave a feral growl. Askier laughed. "Why don't you learn to fight before you growl little kit. You don't scare me. But I know I scare you." Askier snapped his teeth, but Kahn'a didn't back down. The kit was growing bolder, Askier realized. "You here to make this truce or insult us?" Osric asked, leaning back in his chair. Askier fixed the hyur with his one, golden eye and shook his head as he opened the front of his coat and reached underneath. He noted everyone tense. "Naw, the bomb is going off. No truce." Askier then slide the gunblade he had taken from Jin'li free and leveled it at Osric. The gun erupted in a plum of fire as the projectile slammed into the hyur and sent him flying backwards as a fount of blood rose from his chest. Kahn'a reacted quickly, slinging the bow off his shoulder and knocking an arrow with surprising speed. To bad Askier could simple point, pull, and shoot. Kahn'a's leather armor did nothing to stop the bullet as it tore into his abdomen. The Garlean then swung his weapon around and aimed it at Kanaria. "Askier!" Kanaria shrieked in horror, tears coming to her eyes. "What are you doing? This isn't what we talked about!" "No, but you aren't who I thought you were, traitor." Askier snarled as his face flushed in anger. Askier fired, his face a mask of rage as she recoiled, slamming into the bookshelf and sliding down, gasping in pain. The Garlean was about to turn when a poorly aimed arrow whizzed past his head. Askier turned as Kahn'a knelt on the floor in a pool of his own blood, trying to aim another arrow. Askier studied the younger miqo'te as he aimed his firearm at the wounded man. "Kahn'a." Askier said lazily as he pulled the hammer back on his gunblade. His one good eye ran over Kahn'a face and Askier licked his lips. "You're finally acting like a man." Askier pulled the trigger and Kahn'a jerked back. Askier turned and started walking, tossing the weapon aside as he reached into his coat and began pulling out grenades and tossing them about as several thaumaturges rushed around the pillars. The explosions shook the building and the blasts echoed around the massive chamber. Another grenade flew towards the door and blew the might doors from their hinges. Smoke and fire broiled as Askier tossed three smoke grenades out the front door, filling the street with thick, chalky smoke. Askier began to sprint as he heard Brass Blade whistles. The Garlean slipped away in the smoke down an alley. Askier smiled in the shadows as he kept walking, taking a sip from his flask. He had won. Erik Mynheir was gone, his three greatest threats had just been killed, and his bomb was hidden. His sister would be free. *Six Days Later* Ul'dah was gone. Nothing more than a smoking crater. The blast had been glorious. The most beautiful explosion Askier had ever crafted. Askier reaclled how he had watched it from a hill well outside the blast radius. Blue it had been and a dome of pure, cerelium energy released at a precise moment. As Askier had traveled north to Fallgourd Float, he had heard nothing but rumors and fears. No mention of his name, of course, but it didn't matter. Terror had been sown and despite the mass genocide he had just committed, Askier was impressed with his skill. The drunk miqo'te stumbled into the inn at Fallgourd Float, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He staggered towards a table as he took another swig of the bottle, trying to drown his conscious that kept trying to rise up and make him feel remorse. Askier collapsed in the chair as the miqo'te with white hair lifted his head from the book he had been reading and gave a bow. "Master Mergrey." Jin'li said flatly, expressionless as always. "This humble slave is most impressed by the commitment you have shown to your family." "Where's Saravena?" Askier slurred as he glared hatefully at the Jin'li. "Upstairs, asleep in the usual room." the eunuch explained calmly. "I have your word she is alive and well." "This slave is not offended. Is a rational thought. You have this slave's word she is well, simply sleeping on a drug we gave her. She will awake soon." "Good." Askier growled as he rose to his to feet and reached into his coat. "Master Adin wishes to speak with you, Master Mergrey." Jin'li said as he watched Askier. Askier said nothing. He simply walked over to the runt and shoved a knife into his throat. Jin'li blinked in surprise and fell to the floor as blood filled his lungs and began to drown him. Askier disappeared up the stairs as the bartender stared in horror. A few minutes later, Askier left the inn, everyone inside giving him a wide berth as he carried his sister to Drumstick and gently slid her into the saddle. He slipped up behind her and took the reigns of his chocobo in one hand as he hugged his sister tightly too him with the other as he cried. Two years. It had been two years since he had held her. Since she had been free. Two years, and a list of sins even demons would hesitate to commit. Tears rolled down Askier's cheeks as they rode off, their destination uncertain. She was free. That's all that mattered.

Erik just won this thread. Lol

Atrium is curious to try chocobo steaks next time they meat. . . .

The afternoon sun was sweltering and heat waves rolled above the city street, which was sparsly populated at this time of the day as most people tried to avoid the sweltering heat. Askier envied those people as he strolled down the street, his boots clicking on the stones beneath as he neared the Gate of the Sultana. Sweat was running down his brow and his face paint was smeared all over his cheeks as the wind tugged at his Flame uniform. The miqo'te brushed his long hair out of his face and ran a gloved hand across his brow. The former Garlean looked up at the blazing sun, alone in a empty, blue sky "A grenade for a cloud." Askier said as he locked his dry lips. It had been a long walk so far, and he still had a few hours left on his patrol. Askier was about to resume walking when a voice shouted behind him. "Hey terrorist! Get out of that uniform and out of Ul'dah!" Askier sighed. This again. His hecklers were back. Ever since Askier had joined Red Wings he had been dealing with lynch mobs, muggings, and constant insults aimed at his person. Askier was about to turn around when the brick slammed into the back of his head and sent him onto his hands and knees. Askier blinked in shock and he was motionless for a few moments until he saw blood dripping from his cheeks onto the hot stones. Askier rose to his feet, his right hand clutching the bleeding bruise on the back of his head. His golden eyes swept the area. A few people gazed at him with horrified expressions but there was no sign of the man whom had thrown the brick. Askier stiffly moved over to the shade and sat down with a groan, blood trickling down the back of his neck onto his uniform. The miqo'te raised his mechanical hand to his ear and pressed his linkpearl. "Alexei. I'm at the Gate of the Sultana. Need you to take a look at my head." Askier let the metal arm fall to his side as he pulled his right hand from the back of his head and let his golden eyes examine the blood covering his glove. "Ul'dah. Home sweet home." Askier said with a deep, pained sigh as he put his right hand back on his bleeding wound and looked up at the tall buildings around him. "Sometimes I wish I had blown it all up."

Tiergan, I know I've already said this, but its awesome, I love it, you got him perfectly, and you are awesome. Thank you so much! /grovel

Hey Iron! Just wanted to pop in and say hi! I enjoyed rping with you last night and having you slice Atrium's head off! Rofl.

At this point, I can't really think of much to add to this thread other than this, since everyone has made excellent points above: Be ready for someone, maybe many someones, to come along, look at all the turning gears that run an rp arc and toss a wrench in it. It will happen. I know from personal experience running my two events and honestly, the wrenches were the most fun things. Lol. Part of why rp is so organic is that its more of an improv game of "Yes and". Otherwise, like has been said before, brainstorm with others, (my events never would have worked out without this) communicate often ( more the better), and just have fun with it. Everyone loves to hop on rp arcs, myself included. Like a wise man once said: " If you build it, they will come." Good luck with your arc. Well good luck to everyone really since looks like a bunch are in the works.

*squeels like a little school girl and starts running around before sitting down, putting his tail in his mouth and chewing on it as he watches this thread, waiting in excitement.* Can't wait. Super excited.

LOL Erik I would be disappointed if you DIDN"T try to kill some crows.

Yay! Thank you Wizard

Hello all. Few things. First, current plan is to have all Crow's and cultists in an FC so they can have a way to communicate IC'ly so if you have been able to make one or want to make one, shoot me a pm here or tell in game so I can add them. Second, to help with whole assassin feeling, Crows maybe hired IC to try and assassinate PC's. If you want to hire a Crow for some sort of job like this, shoot me a pm and will discuss. Third, the first arc of the event can basically begin now. If anyone wants to have their character begin an investigation into uncovering cult, shoot me a pm and well set up the starting work. Know I had a couple nibbles already for this hook but need a confirmation. Note, looking into the cult is a sure way to end up becoming a sort of leader for the hero side for event. Be ready for a lot of people to rp with you as event builds. Osric and Kahn'a can tell you that. lol. I'll press out more details soon but should be at least a couple weeks before arc two can begin. Any questions, please ask away.

Drumstick. The bird of legend and mystery. Drumstick is not the fastest. Drumstick is not the biggest. But Drumstick is incredibly smart and is very dear to Askier. Askier purchased the mount five years ago after he fled the Empire. The bird has been through his many adventures and even played a large role in Askier's effort to destroy Ul'dah (saving Askier's life several times lol) Askier refuses to ride any other chocobo if he can help it and often brings the bird along on airship rides and will talk with the bird if he needs to vent. Drumstick doesn't understand much Askier says but can read body language and tone of voice very well. I have actually rped as Drumstick several times. He got his name when Askier first bought the young bird to remained himself what part to eat first if Askier was ever starving.

"And that requires us to increase our shipping fees into Limsa for the time being. Which, while beneficial in the short run, risks hurting our long term gains if we are not able to find a way to decrease the costs. Several other competitors already plan to under cut us the moment our rates reach our buyers." The speaker was a rather well built hyur. He stood at a large, round table, gazing at his other nine business partners. Large stacks of paper rested between each, and everyone of the persons seated there and all were reading the report with only half interest. The least interested of the nine was a tall, thin elezen with grey hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He was dressed in simple clothes and was looking at a page of parchment but wasn't actually reading the words upon it. He was to busy wondering how his newest Crow had handled it's assignment. The elezen was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he missed the sound of the door opening as a short elezen, dressed in a black suit, walked up to him and whispered in his ear. "Master Koveras, the newest Crow has returned." Koveras smiled, the wrinkles in his old face doubling as he nodded and rose to his feet. "Ladies and gentleman, please excuse me for just a moment. Afraid that a small matter must pull me away." The elezen turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him and his butler. "Productive meeting, sir?" the butler inquired as the two walked down the hall, which was lavishly decorated. "Only moderately. Nothing I don't know already, but a reminder is always good to know. Especially when those whom seek to weed us out as competition from our various markets do not serve the true god." So you mean to move ahead with the price increase?" the butler asked as he helped open a door. "I'll pray to Nald'thal for his advice. Depending on what he tells me, I shall move accordingly. Tell me, Reginald..." Koveras entered the room, which was a small office lined with bookshelves. The elderly elezen approached one shelf, pulled a book, and watched as it opened inward, revealing a flight of stairs. "How is that charity dinner for the destitute of Ul'dah going?" "Many find it a waste of time and money, sir." the bulter answered. "Course they do. But it is Ul'dah. How I do prefer it up here in Gridania. So much to look at that still has yet to die. I'll be back shortly." Koveras began to descend the stairs. As he descended, the air grew colder. Eventually he reached the bottom and before him stretched a long cathedral hall. Rich tapestries hung from the walls and rows of pews flanked a red carpet on either side. At the far end of the room, on a raised platform, stood an altar of black marble. Dried blood stained the raised display. Three, black-robed figures sat in the pews, their somber chants echoing around the room. Standing on the platform, gazing as the altar was a tall miqo'te. Koveras smiled and crossed the room. "Did the Crow retrieve it's due for the true god?" Koveras asked calmly. The miqo'te turned and nodded as it lifted it's right hand up, displaying the bag of gil the lalafell had left in Ul'dah. "A soul for Thal, and a bag of gil for Nald's church." the miqo'te answered, his voice dry and harsh, akin to the sound of a hundred centipedes crawling across dried leaves. "Glory to the Eternal God whom shall claim all things in their time." Koveras replied as he reached the altar and took the gil from the outstretched hand. Koveras examined his newest Crow with pride. Two strong souls, pinned and melded together with Nald'tha'ls blessing into a new single being in a strong, powerful corpse. Two made one, just as Nald'thal was two made one. "This one shall wait here then?" the miqo'te inquired as Koveras placed the gil upon the altar and bowed to it. "Till Nald'thal requires another soul, you shall wait back in Ul'dah. Always coin for souls there." Koveras answered. "Nald'thal be praised, for death is kind." the miqo'te said. Koveras blinked in amusement at the miqo'te's own, personal saying. That word... kind...Koveras wondered which of the two souls that now made up Atrium Crow had used it so often. "Death is kind." Koveras replied as the tall miqo'te turned and left through a side door that led to an underground river and a walkway along the bank.

The alley was congested and small, nothing more than a sliver of space wedged between three buildings. The overcast night sky hung close to the tops of Ul'dah's tallest buildings. A small form slipped into the alley, a lone candle held in his hand. The lalafell's eyes darted around nervously as he made his way to the end of the alley and came to what appeared to be a small bundle of trash and sacks. The lalafell pulled the sacks aside and there is was, just as his friend had told him would be. A small altar to Nald'thal. The symbol of the deity was carved into a rectangular stone block planted into a wooden base. Written in black ink upon the base in free hand was a number: 50,000. "The price of a life." the lalafell whispered as the candle in his hand shook slightly. He had never done anything like this. He had tried to live an upright life. But he was desperate now. A Brass Blade had been bleeding his small business dry with extortion fees and was growing more and more bold. The lalafell was afraid to turn to the other branches of Ul'dah law. His friend had told him of this option. Assassination. The lalafell's friend said it had worked for him three times now. "Pay the offering, reap the reward." the lalafell repeated what his friend had said and then pulled out a bag of gil from his pocket and placed it on the altar. The lalafell was not a religious man by any means but he knelt and bowed his head. "A fee for a soul, to make Nald'thal richer." the lalafell said quietly. "50,000 gil for the life of Trener Belin." The lalafell looked up. Nothing happened. The lalafell waited for a few minutes. Still nothing happened. Worried he had done something wrong, he repeated the words. Still nothing happened. After a few moments, the lalafell turned around and walked to the end of the alley. His stomach knotted as he realized just how much money he had left. He turned and blinked. The bags once again covered the altar. The lalafell rushed over to the bags and pulled them off. The pouch of gil was gone. The lalafell felt a chill run down his spine as he turned and fled. *** Three Days Later Trener Belin threw open the door and slammed it shut behind him. The man's eyes were wide and he ran to the edge of the roof and stopped. He gazed down at the street five stories below. The hour was early and no one was walking the streets at this time. No one savory anyhow. The door to the roof creaked open slowly and the hyur called Trener Belin spun around, gazing at the opening door and the figure that stood in the doorway, blocking the stairs to the rest of the brothel blocked. Trener shivered as he saw that his knife was still transfixed in the tall miqo'te's chest. "What are you!" Trener screamed, his face full of fear as his armor jingled in the night breeze. The miqo'te took a step forward, his one blue and one black eyes gazing upon Trener intently. The left half of the miqo'te's face was tattooed and the skin was a pallid grey. The miqo'te slowly pulled the knife from it's chest, a black, jelly like substance dribbling out of the wound. The air was growing colder as the miqo'te grew closer. "Who sent you? I have coin! I'll pay you more." Trener babbled frantically as the figure advanced. Trener suddenly aimed a punched at the male. The blow struck true and the miqo'te fell back. Trener snarled and tried to bolt for the door but a hand seized his foot and he tripped. The hyur slammed onto the ground and rolled over onto his back. The hyur tried to kicked free, but suddenly the miqo'te was on top of his chest. Trener struggled as the stranger lifted the knife to Trener's chest and then slowly, almost tenderly, slipped the blade between Trener's ribs into his heart. Trener started to shake as he felt his blood leaving his body. Cold tingled on the back of his neck as the miqo'te rose and bowed to the dying man. "Nald'thal welcomes you to his realm. Rejoice for the true god shall embrace you as his own. For he is kind." The tall miqo'te with the mismatched eyes then turned and walked to the edge of the roof. The wind moaned softly as the miqo'te felt Tener's soul depart his body. Below the miqo'te could see several Brass Blades rushing down the street towards the brothel. The miqo'te looked up at the night sky as a grin parted his tattooed face, his teeth flashing white as his body turned to smoke and blew away on the wind.

Okay, have worked out things withis Liadan and Osric. If you plan on making a Crow, send me a pm and I'll send you the info for making a Crow. If you don't plan on making one, don't send pm about themcause that would ruin the surprises and the mystery.