Eternal Sands - Closed

Cinders and ash- in the end that was the world was reduced too when met with the sheer strength of the Empire’s forces- Avi’sia knew that better than anyone as she had stood at the forefront of many attack and at one time at the receiving end herself. Yet old news was just that- old- and in the wake of the smoldering earth that boiled and curdled around her it was an unnecessary thought. “Get that collapsed building cleared away- we need a more finite body count before General Saladin arrives.” They had had minimal casualties, but Avi’sia couldn’t get a final summation until all the debris was ripped away and ALL the names on the ledger were accounted for. If there were still soldiers alive in the once-city of Burmard then they needed to be excavated.
Those pale-pale blue eyes surveyed the fallow earth around her and her hands went to her hips. Garbed in regulation Maratuk armor- outfitted with the correct officer eccentricities- she was a stark contrast from the bleak scenery. Skin that seemed as black as shadows, pearly white hair that pulled into a tight braid at the back of her neck, haunting eyes, angular cheeks, small nose and full lips; and all of that was complimented by her favorite scarlet scarf- it was no surprise that most knew her by appearance only.

Avi’sia turned to face one of the reporting officers as they offered a quick salute only to tell her what she was already aware of. Hoverbarges are silent- deathly so- but she still had eyeballs in her sockets and could see them rolling over the horizon with ease.
Many had accused Saladin of being too heavy handed, but Avi’sia had always thought that if there wasn’t some might behind the Empire that would fold in on itself. Of course she had been of an unpopular opinion, but then again she hadn’t quite been raised in an environment where leniency had been tolerated. When Saladin had stepped down she had felt that his reasoning was in the right place, but still wasn’t overly joyed to see such a fresh and young face take his place.
In the end though- she found herself in quite the honorable position of his second-in-command and inevitably enough authority to keep the politics against the rebels on the aggressive side. It was like squashing an ant that fallen from the path- you were only saving the collapse of an entire colony by squelching insubordination.

“General Saladin,” the captain that he met at the gate of the town offered a salute as well. “Burmard is fully under our control and all hostiles have been taken care of. Well- except one- Officer Fehlheart had us keep one alive.” He blinked quickly and then continued on, “our casualties are minimal- Officer Fehlheart is currently working on a more approximate number. She is right inside sir-“ yet before he could finish his sentence Avi’sia approached the duo. She offered the mandatory salute before she began, “you are dismissed Captain.” And without further ado- the inferior officer bowed out. Avi’sia figured there would be much to be discussed- and hoped she hadn’t been out of line in keeping one of the rebel faction alive. Of course she hadn’t had the chance to interrogate him yet. They had just found the poor sob with a broken leg and she had rather formally broken the other one before they hauled him away. “Sir- good to see you here hope your journey was pleasant. I currently don’t have any further information to indulge you on beyond what the captain just reported. I do have the ledger of missing soldiers and we are currently clearing out the rubble to make sure we have accounted for as many as we possibly can.” Avi’sia tried not to smile- but alas it was her viperous trade mark and it did look good on a face that was marred with seriousness. “And then there is the hostage- I was leaving the final say up to you sir.”

The Rangers- how did he end up with them? Right he was drunk. It wasn’t the most glorious moment in his life, but in retrospect it was the most fortuitous. Roland Reinhardt II was currently one (of the many) last line of defense between the Marutuk Empire and destruction. In countless numbers of his travels he had heard of the ‘darkness’ that licked on the edge of their kingdom like a cancer that invaded the bones and blood. He had hesitated at the thought of it multiple times but inevitably drank it out of his existence. Since then he had fought desert trolls, dragonlings, countless mercenaries, and the occasional angry noble woman (he had needs you know).

Yet now he stood- in the garrison that stood at the mere brink of their destruction. Roland was not the youngest member here or the greenest- but he was still a new recruit if given a title. Many a time he had sparred against some of the younger boys that had lined up in hopes of impressing the higher-ups and the older man had one; they had a lot to learn and hell if the Reinhardt heir was going to teach them a lick of it. He figured they probably didn’t have the pedigree he did with all the noble teachings and the inevitable (and high uncomfortable) thrust into the danger world of adventure- but that didn’t mean that they were exempt of a few good lessons.
Unfortunately given all his years (ten to be precise) of experience he mostly kept to the artillery and its’ function. One time he showed prowess in cleaning and fixing an old rifle, and now he was overlooking every little sprig’s gun that walked into this damn place.

This in itself was probably the reason he was lurking away from the barracks.

“You know you are doing that wrong,” Roland ho-hummed as he came upon the older dwarf- his eyes on the rifle that the other was holding. Honestly Otis could be doing everything correctly and yet the human would find fault in his technique. Why you say? Because that technique was not his own- which given his background- he thought such a thing was perfection.
“I once thought that the edge of the world was nothing important- just like the edge of a piece of paper- just an end of a tale.” Roland mused as he glanced out at the spread of sands. “Little did I realize when the paper ended there was the desk, the floor, the rest of the world at the mere cusp of it,” Roland grunted not amused. “At this point in my life I figured that some maiden would be at my feet begging me to marry them- pleading: ‘Roland love of my life- strongest man alive- I want you with me and to power me through those lonely nights with your-‘.” He abruptly ended and waved his hand rather bored in the air- “you know what I mean- though I imagine for you the women being far shorter and with a beard. They do have beards right- female dwarves? Or is that just an old wives’ tale that is told to overlook the stray facial hair?” He slapped a hand against his own well-manicured beard, “ ‘oh but Griselda- this one stray whisker off of my chin is nothing like a female dwarf’s beard’ to which Griselda would reply ‘of course not Beatrice of course not’. “ Roland then sighed, “my mother would hire the strangest cleaning ladies.” A pause and he swiveled those deep- extraordinarily murky- blue eyes towards the dwarf. “So need any help with that rifle?”

Saladin faced Avi'sia, returned a salute and listened patiently as she made her report. Without fail, she smiled her disquietingly pleasant smile as she spoke of the 'hostage', as though she felt some satisfaction at having brought to heel one of the enemies, those stubbornly defiant rebels.

In the past, Saladin would have felt dismayed at that. He often both admired and was frustrated by the indomitable spirit of the rebels, but he also knew that his very actions as the former ruler of the Empire had resulted in the rebels being seen by those who pursued them as no more than hounds. They were certainly hunted down like animals, and Saladin felt as though Avi'sia was the embodiment of the imperial disdain for the rebels, but she was also ambitious. It could very well be that she was to the rebels as Alphonsus Savanti was to the Empire, a well known and well hated foe who had risen far too swiftly. Her severe efficiency was certainly a match for the rebel leader's fiery audacity, and both would have been able to meet on the battlefield without a shred of respect for one another; only the blunt hatred that was required of the perfect adversaries. In his time as a general, Saladin had learnt that this was only mandatory and he had come to tolerate it.

"I would like to go see this hostage," Saladin said as he motioned for Avi'sia to lead the way, then continued on as he walked by her side, "The garrison here will be a permanent one and I want you to manage the fortifications as I set up a command post... I would also like to hear your own account of this battle after we're finished with today. Reports can only say so much."

He passed through the gate of the walled town and into the streets where the smell of gun smoke was particularly intense. Avi'sia led the way towards a nondescript building that was ridden full of holes, and towards a wide room that had been converted into a bunker, with the windows half blocked by piled debris. The rebel was lying next to the window with both legs crippled and a guard standing over him. He appeared very young and yet at the same time older than what most people would have guessed. He could have easily been a teenager or thirty years old. "What's your name, son?" Saladin asked as he crouched down.

The rebel remained tight lipped as he averted his eyes, turning away from the general as though he couldn't stand to look at him. Saladin sighed heavily as he stood up again and said, "I see that you're not in a very talkative mood right now. I can understand. Our presence here is causing you more pain than those injuries you have right now... well that's what I'm guessing at anyway. I'll talk to you later when you're in a better condition for it."

As Saladin turned away, the rebel spoke up with thinly veiled anger, "I was a citizen before all this, but the rebels were right. You're all scum. Why should we allow ourselves to be controlled by scum?" Saladin returned a mild expression which only seemed to spur the rebel on. "That dark woman over there, she didn't have to break my legs, but she did. You didn't have to destroy this town, but you did. You're all scum." And then he lapsed into sullen silence. Saladin looked at the guard who appeared as though he did not hear anything, and then at Avi'sia who was standing by the doorway. "Take him away, guardsman," the general said as he made to leave.

"Covert operations?" Leto mused, then smiled with approval. "Yes, I hadn't thought of that. It carries its risks of course, but perhaps subtlety is the best solution. However..."

Leto activated the console on the side of his throne and flicked his hand across the holographic screen, bringing up a list of reports at a single thought. "It has been attempted before, by my predecessor no less. He managed to achieve through brute force what he couldn't with subtlety, and here we are... This was his task force, all of them the best of the best during their time."

A list of names was projected above the throne where Issat could see it, all listed as KIA or MIA. "He did not have to deal with Alphonsus during his time, but nonetheless, to underestimate the rebels is the greatest folly," Leto said in the gravest of manner. "It is a lesson all Marutuks are reminded of at one point or another. Understand that I do not underestimate the rebels. Given a choice between them and the bandits, I would naturally opt for the easier problem first. You are telling me that Alphonsus should be dealt with as swiftly as possible, I agree, but how can you assure me that your plan will succeed?"

The Dune Emperor sat back in his throne as he deactivated the console. "You cannot," he stated plainly. "But I am willing to take the risk. Assemble your team. You have my authorization to carry out this operation in the utmost secrecy, and you will report to me every step of the way." Leto leaned forward and looked at his majordomo in the eyes. "I want you to succeed in this, Issat. For the sake of the Empire, for the sake of us all, Alphonsus must be stopped before we have a full blown uprising on our hands."

Otis looked up at Roland and listened patiently with an unblinking stare as the other Ranger went on and on the way he usually did. When at last his nattering had come to a stop - however briefly - Otis remained silent for a calculated moment and replied, "No." And then he went back to cleaning his rifle. For as long as he had known Roland, the man was a blow-hard. A no-good, no-brained scallywag and adventurer with a past as chequered as most other Rangers. Sometimes Very often, he acted such a fool that it was a wonder that he managed to survive past his first year as a Ranger. But survive he did and he had proven himself a worthy member of the brotherhood of guardians... such as it was.

Incidentally, it was almost time to change watch and there was no poorer choice for sentry duties than Roland. A watchman was to be the first eyes, the first gun and the first defender on the wall in the event of an attack. Although direct assaults by the denizens of the Shadow Lands were few and far between, there were still bandits, dangerous creatures and the very elements of the desert to contend with. Roland simply could not be counted on as a watchman, but Otis had no desire to listen to the man's voice any longer than he had to. He was about to foist Roland into watch duty when the walls began to thrum with the energy of magic sensors, a single pulse through the enchanted stone that warned of possible interlopers. Otis picked up his binoculars and scanned the horizon, seeing nothing for a moment... and then a sand worm came rearing out of the sand, thrashing around as though it was in pain.

"Sand worm. Got too close to the Shadow Lands," Otis said tersely into his voci link as he grabbed his rifle and rummaged through the nearby ammunition box for special rounds. Typically, it required either heavy artillery or great magic to bring down a sand worm. Both roles were fulfilled by a particularly large rifle round in the box marked with a black tip. Hand crafted by the garrison's alchemist and weapons engineer, it was a true work of art and certainly not meant to be used lightly. Otis levelled his rifle over the parapet of the watchtower and aimed carefully at the erratic sand worm, ready to fire only if he had to. The magic pulse that initially thrummed through the walls was now rippling through the sand in a wave to discourage the leviathan. It always bothered Otis to know that whatever the mages did, they always worked from inside the walls of the garrison, rarely showing their faces. Well if their magic didn't work, he was ready to handle the situation himself. Such was the rivalry between Rangers and mages, built upon an ancient tradition of tolerated cooperation and grudging respect.

Ciel laughed a little and tilted her head. "Don't worry you'll have plenty to shoot at where we're going. And the wages are very promising." She took a sly glance around and then continued walking before answering his last question.

The corners of her lips curled up into a grin. Something about it made it seem that there were many different secrets and meanings in that smile of hers. "That's for me to know, and you to find out. Lets just say, a girl gets lonely out here. Sometimes its nice to have someone to talk to. Is it not?" She flipped her black hair and kicked at the dirt a little as she continued walking.

Amethyst adjusted the red witches hat that was upon her head, then pulling on her sunglasses, looking around the building for a few minutes before heading up the stairs. It was rather tiring just sitting around the place, waiting for Lucky to wake up, she may have been with him for years but that didn't change the fact that she wanted some action, to find some treasure. "Lucky!!!" she called up the stairs, waiting a few moments before she gotten a sly smile on her face, bounding up the stairs quietly. Opening Lucky's door just as quietly, she peered inside, seeing the sleeping form of the werewolf. Chuckling to her self before she tip-toed over to him, sliding into the bed and begin to cuddle with him. "Lucky. You old dog, it is time ti get up and go on an adventure." she whispered into his ear as she stroked his fur.

The white haired witch stood there upon a sand structure, she calls it a sand structure though all it was is a cliff that the wind ate away at, hard sand is all it was. There were tunnels, little niches in the structure, but what had made it even more unique was the fact that there seemed to be buildings in it. This was her place, the place that she had found and made her home out in the middle of the desert.

Violet eyes stared at the Capital City, watching as the sunlight touched it, dawn, that was what time of day it was, and now was a time for her to go into the city and collect supplies, maybe make some companions and go treasure hunting, or kill some monsters. She could also train them in the form of magic, it had been a few years since she had an apprentice, though she was never a good teacher.

She finally sighed heavily before she turned and headed inside of the hidden building. Smiling to her self as she pulled on her sunglasses, tugging on her red hat before she pet her two feline companions, looking around the room at all the dried herbs that were hanging up. She chuckled to her self before turning it a swish of her skit as she headed down to a cave that held her horse, smiling as she looked at the sand colored stallion with his red mane and tail. "Time to get some supplies." she said to him, stroking his muzzle before she swung upon its' back, spurring him into action as they bolted towards the city, keeping an eye out on anyone that maybe lost in the desert or around. After all she did not need slavers to come after her again, a smile slid on her face at the thought, though it was a mistake for them to try and get her.

"What's. . . What's gong on? What are you doing to me?" Ren said as he was being carried to a small pit. The guys didn't speak. They just threw him into the pit. Just as soon as he was dumped inside, they began to throw some dirt on him.
"What are you doing? What is this place?" he yelled at the top of his lungs. The guys just laughed as they continued to throw sand at the little boy. As he was almost completely buried, he heard one of the other men yell, "He's just in between two worlds."
"So. . . That's what this is about." he said as he began to cry.

"Hoverbarge? Got it." Ren said as he eyed the turrets. He took a mad dash for it using his vampire speed. He jumped up and slammed his blade right through one of the turrets. He slashed it once more and ran to the next one.
"This is boring." he said as he put the sword over his shoulders. He walked away as the turrets were exploding in the background.

Avi’sia followed General Saladin’s orders and led him straight to the prisoner. While most of the town had suffered heavy structural damage- the ramparts of the garrison remained intact and the woman had a feeling that they would continue on remaining stable no matter what. They would need this stepping stone if they were to defeat Alphonsus.

The dark elf’s mind wandered towards her thoughts on the enigma of a man and his “need” to rip the Empire apart for what she viewed as his own personal gain. Why did the rebels fight so fiercely- when had an Empire so great and benevolent ever wronged them? Truth be told Ava’sia knew of the dangers and cruelties of Amara, but she had found solace in Maratuk. So if Alphonsus was to turn his weapon against anyone it should be the bandits, the marauders, the slavers, and whatever else that lurked in that desert that managed to rip children from their parents and turn them against their own humanity.

Avi’sia could only imagine that Alphonsus was a man blinded by his own intention, and he didn’t understand how the world worked outside his own self-absorbed bubble. Yet that didn’t mean she thought lesser of him, or assumed he was weaker because of it. The fact that the Empire had to make such a drastic move against him meant that he was as formidable as they- and they were taking down the rebellion before it could pick up steam and topple an Empire.

“Yes sir,” Avi’sia stated rather formally as she thought of countless ways to reinforce these walls. She also attempted to organize all her thoughts of their attack in her mind- it had been so powerful that her memories were frantic. Either way she would give the best retelling she could deduce.
The shadow of the garrison eclipsed her thoughts as she led Saladin in to see the prisoner and inevitably hung back as she was assured that her presence wouldn’t be that agreeable to the man that was splayed out on the floor. Of course the impetuousness of his lack of answering Saladin caused the dark elf to bare her teeth down upon her lower lip and hiss rather callously. Then there was the word ‘scum’ that was so freely thrown around that it made her nearly break her stance to reposition the heel of her boot into the hostage’s face. Those pale blue eyes pressed against the hostage as he was drug away, and then flicked back to Saladin.

“Sorry sir- I figured he would be more talkative considering the position he is in. If you would like I could pry in his open with a bit of ‘convincing’- or we can just let him sit?” Avi’sia enjoyed torture- not in a sadistically mental way but more so in the results that it gave. She hated the waiting game, but would play if Saladin figured he could entice this one with honey and not vinegar. “Hm- and calling us ‘scum’. He had his chance- they all did. He is probably just lying- attempting to intertwine himself with our sympathies.” She was aware of the man’s mentioning that he was just a common citizen, but he should have been aware of the goings-on in the small town of Burmard. It was then Avi’sia glanced into Saladin’s face as she had been rather pensively staring at that blank spot where the man had been.

“Sir- would you care for my recount now- or this evening? I can come to your quarters and give it there?” There was a stringent professionalism to everything that she did- and she didn’t much visualize herself any different than the other soldiers lolling about here. Avi’sia was a woman- but honestly the only ones that ever got to see that side of her were her enemies.

Alphonsus leaned cautiously out of cover after hearing the explosions, satisfied that victory had been secured. His coat rippled in the blast wave as he stood up to approach the lone rebel fighter with the large power blade, and when he heard what the vampire had to say, Alphonsus couldn't help but burst into laughter. To the other rebel fighters who were returning after realizing that they had won, it was a strange sight indeed. Neither of them had ever known their leader to have a lighter side to his fearsome personality.

Alphonsus had always taken the effort to know and remember the names of his soldiers, but the cavalry troop was hastily assembled to strike at the hoverbarge, a target of opportunity. That had left little time for anything else other than calling for volunteers and getting equipped for battle. Still, Alphonsus did value each and every fighter who decided to follow him, and right now he had taken an immediate liking to the one before him. "What's your name, comrade?" the rebel leader asked in good cheer.

Lucky woke up with a snort and spluttered when he realized who was in the bed with him. "Amethyst, gorram it, can't I get any shut eye in my own room?" He pushed the witch away then sat up, scratching at his bare chest. Despite his age, he was still a hulking mountain of hard muscle and grey fur, but right now he felt like a deflated hot-air balloon; an aircraft he once had the misfortune of going down with after a storm ray attack. "It's- it's very rude you know," he said as he yawned widely, then winced when he made the mistake of looking towards the window. The sunlight stung his bleary eyes like spear tips. As if that wasn't enough, his voci link began to buzz incessantly, signalling that someone was calling.

"Yeah, hello?" he asked after tapping the link below his right ear.
"Have you done all the paper work yet?" the caller replied, her voice petulant and loud in the old wolf's ear. It was almost too much for him to bear listening to.
"Uh..."
"You do realize no one can do any jobs until you set them up, right?"
"Lyssa, I just woke up..."
"And it's about time too, now get off your lazy caboose and start doing your job."

The call ended and Lucky sighed heavily with a great sense of defeat. Lyssa was the first apprentice he had ever taken, and an Academy mage at that, and now she was firmly in the role as the most responsible member of the guild. "You know, Amethyst, there are some days when I wonder why Lyssa can't be more like you," Lucky complained.

"Me? I'm Ren." Ren said politely. He was honored, yet he didn't seem to care that the leader of the rebels was standing right in front of him. He didn't even bother to mine his manners when he started cleaning the blood off his sword with his tongue. He licked his lips and turned his attention back to the rebel leader.
"You seem so cheerful." he commented on the rebel leader's mood.

Amethyst got a fake hurt look as she was pushed off the wolf, looking a bit dejected before she smiled, standing up and stretching as she watched the male, chuckling slightly before she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I thought it was a rather nice wake up call. Or would you rather me waking you up to a blood covered room?" she said to him teasingly, humming to her self as she picked at a string hanging from her hat.

She gave a sigh as she let him go, pulling the shade down low enough that the sunlight would not hit Lucky in the eyes anymore. She turned around, looking bored as she waited for him to get off the phone with Lyssa, knowing it was her considering she had seen her earlier, only because she had been asking about Lucky.

Though the compliment, well she took it as one, caused her to smile as she moved back to the bed and sat down on it, tilting her head back before she pulled her sunglasses off to reveal her violet eyes to the wolf. "Because Lyssa is still very young and does not have my years of experience on her. If she was more like me then we would never have these private times and you would not have me waking you up like this every day. Though she does have a reason to have her panties in a bunch. It is almost two in the afternoon." she said to him in a seductive ton as she leaned towards him, flashing him a charming smile as she pushed her hand up the fur on his chest.

"Well, that might be so when the other fella ain't shooting at you," Crusher replied philosophically as he wore his hat again, feeling the sun's glare on his head. "But even then, I wouldn't have it any other way. One thing I like about the desert, it's all about survival of the fittest. Makes being alive that much more worth it."

Crusher looked back at the building they had left, seeing his shotgun in the hands of the man who had taken it now and was now strutting about the place like a haughty struthid. That cheeky bastard. No one seemed to care about the three bandits Crusher had killed, and he wondered if anyone would care if he retrieved his shotgun through violent means. He was by no means unarmed as he still had his two pistols by his sides, but he did like that shotgun.

Another time, Crusher thought as he decided to wait for a few days to get the feel of this new gang. This weak and pathetic gang of lug heads who were still alive because of the one person they were following. It could be argued that all gangs were like this, but Crusher had never known any before that had a leader who could sever heads and block bullets with her mind or some other. Such individuals were usually serving the Empire or the rebels as battle mages specializing in telekinesis, but there was a look to this Lockheart that suggested she had no such background.

"Well missy, if you don't mind me asking," Crusher began. "How long have you been out here in the desert? I've been running these sands for a while, y'see, same as the gang I was with before, erm, today, but I've never even heard of you before and a witch of your calibre should have one hell of a reputation around these parts. You new or something?"

Ciel laughed briefly and glanced over at Crusher, tilting her head and noticing for a brief moment that he was eyeing up the shotgun that had been taken from him. "I've been out here for only a week. I don't like fighting much..Which is probably why I'm not well known. I sort of like it that way." Her eyebrows raised in anticipation of the absurd look Crusher would get on his face after she told him that.

"And like I've said before, I am not a witch. Witches are far more kinder when they kill." For a brief moment, yer eyes flashed red, remembering the time when she herself slayed a great witch and then drained her blood. She murmured to herself briefly. "It was rather delicious actually.." She smiled over at crusher and decided that she would be able to talk to him daily, and not get so annoyed of his presence.

"Oi, so I see you want yer pretty gun back from that man over there?" Ciel held out her hand behind her and the other male automatically handed her the shotgun. She then held it in front of her and looked down at it as she walked. "Its quite shiny. You take good care of your things Crusher." She gently handed it over to him and continued walking.

"Bah, that's too early to do anything fun," Lucky quipped as he got out of bed and dressed in the white and gold robes of a guild master. He always felt a little pretentious for wearing it, but custom was custom and here in the Empire, clothes served much the same role as tattoos and other markings did in the clan Lucky was raised in. Amethyst herself was also a nomad, but the witch and the werewolf couldn't be any more different from each other than a horse and a struthid.

"Or maybe it's too late, not that there's much fun to be had any more anyway," Lucky said as he sat on the bed again to pull on his boots (white and gold like the rest of his attire). "The Empire loves its paperwork and someone has to take care of it... and there's no one else for the job but me." He sighed wearily as he buckled his boots then turned to face Amethyst. "It's all I'm good for these days, you know. Reading, writing, signing, talking, ah, I'm old. Sometimes, I wish I took that damned tomb guardian's offer of immortality, but then I'd be stuck doing his job for all time and that wouldn't be any better."

He stood up to look at himself in the tall mirror beside the window. Gaudy and imposing, just the way a guild master should appear, although it wasn't necessarily how Lucky felt. "I tell you what though, that's no reason why I have to stay cooped up in here all the time. It's been a whole month since I've last walked the sands, and I'm thinking we should go do that once I'm done with the work."

As he looked at the mirror, he reflected on all the years he had spent with Amethyst since those adventurous days in the desert, him a young relic hunter and her a wandering witch. She was still a wanderer, still as lively as ever, and she did not look any older now than the day they first met, but Lucky always regarded her as the one to show him the life of the desert in ways that his clan never could, which only understood death and survival.

Nowadays, she would come by from time to time, taking jobs to relieve her boredom or help the guild, or perhaps both, Lucky was never quite sure which. Even to this day, he did not know the witch very well, but what he did understand was that her visits always brought about a revival of those good early days, which was a kindness beyond measure. Lucky walked over to his study desk and picked up a contract scroll that he had set apart from all the others last night.

"Yep, as soon as I'm done, I'll get Lyssa to take care of things while we..." He turned towards Amethyst with a grin as he showed the scroll. "We take a special trip to a familiar place. Remember Oruk, that ancient city where we first met? As it turns out, there's another one underneath it and our client has no idea how big it is. It'll be just like old times."

"And why not?" Alphonsus replied, then turned to the rest of his troop. "Why not? See what we've done here, friends!" He stretched out his hands, waving his bow in an expansive gesture at the battlefield. "Today, we've done more than harass and raid, and sneak about like rats fearing the shadow of the Empire. Today, we spat in its eyes, we bit its hand, made it bleed and we won! Do you all get it, you mighty, beautiful sons of bitches? Bit by bit, battle by battle, we are winning this war!"

He raised his bow to the sky as the ragtag army of rebels roared their approval in unison. Alphonsus turned towards Ren and said, "And you, you have GOT to tell me where you learned to fight the way you did on that barge. As a matter of fact, let's talk about it over some drinks back at base. It'll be one heck of a victory celebration."

Alphonsus whistled to his struthid, which had its feathers singed black on one side, and mounted it then rode off. He stopped to take his hat from a rebel soldier who had found it, then dusted it down, wore it, tipped a final farewell to Ren then departed. Another soldier who had heard the rebel leader's words approached Ren, and said in a conspiratorial manner, "He's inviting ya over for drinks, y'know what that means? He's offering to have ya in his inner circle, the best of his mates, including the ones that came with him from Nibara all them years ago. That's a fierce company o' friends there... but you didn't hear it from me."

The soldier went on to join the looting team. An occasional gunshot sounded wherever imperial survivors were found.

"Awww it is never to early or to late to have fun!" Amethyst automatically replied, chuckling to her self as she tilted her head to the side, watching him get dress, not like she had not seen it all to begin with. Soon her mind begin to wander back to the time he had drank one of her experiments and turned human for a brief moment. It had been quite the shock for the both of them, but it had only brought them closer together in the end.

She chuckled to her self once more before she stood up, walking over to him as she wrapped her arms around him, looking at them both in the mirror. "The dessert has been cruel and kind to us. She also has many more secrets to offer up to us." she said to him as she reached a hand up, scratching behind his ear before she spun around, her skirt flaring out some as she went to the window.

Her shirt was just big enough to cover her chest and nothing more, showing plenty of scars that she had on her body. She tilted her white head back as her violet eyes looked the grey wolf over, thinking for a few minutes. "There is always fun to be had, just have to find it. As for the paperwork.....the empire and can just stuff it where the sun don't shine." she said to him before she strode over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she looked down at him.

"We maybe old and most would say that we need to retire and that you behind a desk is a good thing. I know for a fact that reading, writing, signing, and talking is not something that fits you." she said to him as she chuckled, kissing his forehead as she caressed his cheek, a caring look in her eyes as she thought about his next statement.

"Sometimes i wish i had not took up magic. Freezes your body in time, so my mind may get older with the years that past but i shall never grow old." she said a bit sadly, after all she was rather old and had watched her clan and friends die out, that seemed to be the only bad thing about being her, watching the people she cares about growing old and dying away.

She let him go as he stood up and moved towards the window, she couldn't help but trace the tattoo of the moon and cat on her arm, thinking for a few minutes as she looked towards his bedroom door. "How long will your work take you?" she said to him, if she was a wolf like him, her ears would have perked up at the comment, though a smile was on her face as she stopped fidgeting in a sad way.

"Oruk? How can i forget that place." she said with a fond chuckle, thinking back on their first meeting, though she was quickly brought out of her thoughts when he mentioned that that they were going to go back there, a grin came to her face. "Old times, so are we going to share a tent once more? Oh maybe find some deeper treasure chamber that is much larger then last time? OH i know!!! We are going to find the crown of the first Marutuk's wife!" she said to him, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she thought of all the wonderful things that they could find, after they get what they need for the client, the rest of the treasures would be theirs for the taking.

The Dune Emperor has charged Issat to assemble a team and carry out his operation in the utmost secrecy. The Hunt For Alphonsus has begun.

Ren was tempted to take the offer, but he wasn't sure what he should do. He just followed them. He found a bike that wasn't too badly damaged and rode along side the other rebels.

"I think it would be best to leave that for later," Saladin said as he left the house with his hands clasped behind his back. "We have work to do. Let's get it done."

The general wandered out into the dusty streets and watched for a moment as the convoy rolled into town. The hoverbarge stayed outside the gates of the town, being too large to fit through, so its complement of troopers and mech suit pilots dismounted from there in a rumble of marching boots and clanking steps. Everywhere else were parked armoured vehicles and crates of equipment, munitions, food, water, clothes and other items of logistics, all waiting to be sorted out. The town was becoming militarized.

Saladin spent most of the day visiting some of his officers to hear their reports and approve decisions regarding the allocation of resources. Each building in the town was going to have to serve a specific purpose. On top of that, there was also the matter of relocating the civilians, finding enough space for a motor pool, setting up a prison for captured rebels and sending the casualties away, both the wounded and the dead.

The general personally oversaw each task until the conversion of the town's vidcast studio to a command centre was completed, and then he stayed there with his designated staff to review more reports, make his own reports, issue orders and then finally retire to his own quarters within the studio. By that time, the day was coming to an end and there was not much else to do except to rest. It was then and only then that Saladin sent for Avi'sia. He had yet to fully understand what had happened in this town and how so many once-loyal citizens could lash out so savagely against the Empire, so suddenly.

Crusher took the shotgun with genuine gratefulness and snapped a very military salute, a gesture he thought he'd never make after leaving the military. "Yes, ma'am," he said as his leader walked away. Just like that, the gun was his again, and no one had to get their throats slit. Still, Crusher knew better than to let his guard down, especially when most of the people here were thieving vermin.

A quick scan with his eye implants before the battle had identified them all as ex-Empire citizens and convicted criminals of the lowest kind. Gangsters, pickpockets, burglars and muggers, the whole lot. There might have been a few former soldiers as well, but Crusher highly doubted that. Empire renegades generally weren't that common in the desert, especially when the Empire was always the winning side. Sometimes the rebels got lucky, sure, but in the end they were the ones with less numbers, less equipment and less to offer. Why anyone ever wanted to join them was beyond Crusher, who was ever the pragmatic thinker and didn't trouble himself with such lofty notions as freedom. Then again, he never had much regard for the Empire's rules either.

"Law of the desert," he muttered as he walked through the streets and found an empty house to hunker down in. Now that he had time to think, he wondered what his new boss meant when she said she wasn't a witch. As far as Crusher was concerned, a witch was someone who could use magic, end of story. Perhaps she simply didn't like to be called one, or perhaps she was actually something else entirely. In any case, her magic was strong and that was definitely an asset to survival in the desert. Crusher decided that he might actually like living amongst this den of thieves, although the exact reason why he had been spared in the battle continued to puzzle him. He lied down on his back and closed his eyes to rest as he tried to figure out what was so special about himself.

So- Otis was about as kind and gentle as a bush of burs, but that didn’t stop Roland from chattering on rather feverishly at him about this or that. He had gotten used to one word answers and gruff grunting responses from the dwarf and honestly he would be more surprised if the other broken into a sentence around him- much less a paragraph. So Roland didn’t boast the best there was in the rangers, but he didn’t think that he had acquired the lowliest status. Oddly enough- the one thing that Otis and Roland seemed to agree on quite unanimously was the distrust of magic. The Reinhardt heir had never trusted the stuff and had on many an occasion referred to it as ‘that dark juju’. To him it was a mixture of all the bad things in the world that had managed to become palpable and inevitably personified in tangible waves.
Roland was a good shot, a talented combatant, a decent swordsman, and (in his opinion) an expert ladies’ man- but he would never find himself on the giving end of magic (the receiving end he figured would be far less negotiable).

“Well aren’t we a bag of-“ Roland paused as the magical alert system went into a ruckus and he found himself attempting not curse in surprise. He watched as Otis began searching the horizon for the possible disturbance and found it rather quickly- or at least more so than the human who was squinting into the abyssal stretch of land.
“Ah,” he stated half-impressed. “Well this should be a nice break in the monotony.” Roland was about to make fun of their mission by paraphrasing their need to be here: come to the edge of the world, watch all the evil of the world, fight it- not really- just watch it, oh and try not to shoot yourself in the foot from boredom. After he thought it- Roland was assured that Otis would find it about as amusing as he did everything else.
Otis mounted his gun- ready to fire in case the magical barriers didn’t seem to repel the tainted creature.

Roland snagged his own binoculars and stared at that beast. “It’s flopping, and flopping some more, it’s looking like it can’t quite scratch an itch on its back, and back to more flopping.” He stated methodically. “Oh wait now it is shooting itself into the ground faster than women say ‘no’ to your sexual advances.” He lowered his binoculars- “well that was anticlimactic. Not that I’m complaining though that would beat guard duty once again.” There was a hesitation and he lifted them again noting how the creature reemerged faster than it should have- and far closer than it should be.
“Damn- no- looks like we might have to handle this one.” Roland glanced at Otis and rather nonchalantly asked: “what are your orders boss?”

“Yes sir,” Avi’sia stated with a tight salute as she was obviously dismissed. The dark elf went about her duties in the stringent manner that she was famous for. The walls needed to be patched and reinforced- and she sent a small team to manage that aspect. Then there was making sure that there was only one entrance into the garrison as to rule out any plausible sneak attacks that the rebels might take on. This was all followed by making sure that the water supply was strictly guarded, the food was placed in a dry and secure pantry, and all the goings-on of the garrison were tightly regulated and controlled. This took most of the day, and honestly Avi’sia much appreciated this to sitting there and letting time ebb on its fastidious fashion. She had always been of the notion that a busy mind is a happy mind.

On occasion her thoughts would slip back to the hostage and to his word that he had a spat at Saladin with all the vindictive confidence the world had to offer. Avi’sia didn’t doubt herself or deny her convictions- but instead she just pondered. How could one be so interned in the destruction of an Empire? Maybe in a different life she would have understood, but in this one she had shed blood, sweat, and her innocence to keep Maratuk where it was now- and she would sacrifice it all again for them. While most women her age- or at least physically her age- were courting men, getting married, and producing offspring she was in a garrison in the middle of nowhere after a successful raid and squelching of rebel forces. On occasion she wondered if she would ever have that life- but honestly she couldn’t fathom a single scenario in which that seemed plausible. Well. There was one, but she kept that locked behind a devilish smirk and sultry bat of the eyes.

When Saladin sent for her- she had finally squared away her own living quarters and was currently cleaning her gun. After being summoned she quickly deposited her weapons in a steel case and locked it- sliding the key between her unmentionables. Avi’sia was still in her power armor, but had removed the bullet-proof cuirass from her chest which inevitably gave her a hint more curves and less of a bulky warrior-type.
The dark elf met the general’s door and abruptly knocked on it- her lips formed into an objectively sincere smile. “General Saladin- you sent for me.” She stated as she opened the door slowly- assured that she was expected and nothing scandalous would be going on behind it. “Sir the reinforcement of the garrison is underway- currently we are reinforcing the walls and making sure that there isn’t anywhere for rebel spies to bleed in or out.” She stood in his room, but her body was languidly less strict as it had been earlier. Avi’sia had stood all day, but she wouldn’t dare slouch now. “Your report then?” She stated slowly, “where would you like for me to begin? I am unsure how far you were briefed and where I need to pick up. I would hate to be redundant. I wouldn’t want to bore you general.”

Ciel folded her arms across her chest and sank down onto the couch that had been in the -what seemed to be - living room. She sighed and looked up at the Ceiling, tilting her head and wondering why she was even out here in the first place. She knew that she was not a child of man, she was born in the shadow lands. Carved out of the depths of the darkness and all that is evil. She glared a little, she hated to refer to herself as evil. She knew what she did was not nice, but there's nothing fun about a game if you don't cheat once in a while..She shook her head, not wanting to get into how she even ended up in the desert.

A few hours went by and all that the crew has seemed to be doing was sitting around, waiting for nothing. Suddenly, Ciel decided to speak up."I'm hungry."

Crusher woke up with a snort when he heard the quick stomping steps of men moving in haste. The short nap had done absolutely no good for him, so he was somewhat grouchy to say the least when he stepped out of the house and asked, "What's with all the ruckus?"

"Th' bosss iss hungry," answered a serpent-man with a wide brimmed sombrero on his scaly head and a rifle in his claws.

"So?"

"Ssoooo, we goin' t'get ssome food f'her. Th' bosss get'ss hungry after a fight."

Don't we all? Crusher wanted to say, but he had already taken the hint when the serpent-man started speaking slowly in a patronizing manner. Evidently, Ciel was either too lazy or too tired to get food for herself, and judging by the gun in the bandit's claws, a simple bite to eat wasn't going to do. That suited Crusher just fine. Whether there was any hunting or raiding to be done, at least there would be something to shoot at.

"Alright, just give me a sec," Crusher said as he went back in the house to retrieve his shotgun.

"Wal take yer time, new guy. Sshe's a'ready chowin' down on ssome sstruthid meat, but it ain' gon' be enough."

Considering the size of a struthid, that was quite an appetite. As Crusher picked up his shotgun and reloaded it, he tried to recall whether he had ever heard anything about a magic user's appetite. Eventually, he had to admit that he had no such knowledge of the matter.

"Grab a Kraken round, load your rifle and wait for my shot," Otis replied sternly as he tracked the sand worm. He knew that despite Roland's near complete lack of professionalism, he could be counted on to be a Ranger when it mattered. "If it doesn't go down, sound the alarm. The big bastard might be too far gone to even know that it's dead."

With those words, Otis closed his finger around the trigger and waited until he could see the teeth in the worm's maw. It was still quite some distance away, but it was rapidly closing the gap. With a single great lurching movement, the worm dived into the sand and emerged within effective shooting range. Otis fired his rifle and was nearly blown off his feet by the recoil, but long practice and experience allowed him to remain steady as he hopped back a step from the force of the shot. Then he ejected the smoking shell of the spent round and watched as a black fireball bloomed on the sand worm's carapaced body, expanding for a brief instant before coalescing into a solid lance which pierced through the exit wound and exploded again.

The worm thrashed around more feverishly than before. It even managed to fully emerge from the sand until it's blunt tail was visible, fully exposed in the desert. The sand leviathan's colossal girth was now positively churning the sand up into a billowing storm, obscuring the horizon and filling the air with a thunderous crashing. Otis ducked down behind the parapet (which did not require much effort at all for his height) as a rain of sand assailed the fortress walls. Above the noise of the shower, Otis could hear the sand worm's roars of anguish, but he couldn't see the beast any more as he peered over the parapet again. Visibility was near zero in the dusty cloud.

In the Shadow Lands, demons rise from the black sand as their ancient master stirs, filled with the accumulated power of an age of meditation in the realm of corrupted spirits. "I am ready," it whispers through the winds, calling to its Chosen Ones to once again make their push against the world. The Shadow Lord, embodied by the obsidian sands of its dark domain, yearns to extend its reach, but as ever the Rangers and mages of the Empire stand in the way as they have done since times long forgotten. These obstacles must be removed.