Operation Iron Will

[Falcon Darkflight]

Closed to those initiating into the GO.

Shortly after two in the morning, Canen pushed his oak chair back from his oversized, paper smothered desk and rose to his feet, running a pale hand through his neat, almost now buzz cut hair. At a window that was protected from the rain by the overhanging roof, he looked through his ghostly reflection, into a windless monsoon. The Grander's Order fortress stood high in Erebus, near the infamous Kachuck mountains, embraced by a cluster of pines and firs that didn't entirely shroud the building but certaintly did its utmost to keep it looking a part of the scenery at least. The trees had a sort of dramatically fissured bark that indicated the recent severe weather that had come onto this part of Alerar was taking its toll on the surroundings at last, the main victim being the sloping rocks that clustered around the base of the fortress.

Most of the Order initiates were in bed at this hour, save the Grand Commodore, who had instead opted to work late on some intruguing intelligence reports he had recieved from various military and non military sources. An oil lamp flickered in the corner of the secluded office, barely illuminating a wall mounted bookcase that covered the entire left hand side of the room, and a drinks cabinet to the right with special stained glass panes and oak decor, the now proud holder of Canen's personal effects. Such effects covered various Nocturnian trinkets and artifacts, although nothing of any real importance or significance, and an old war photograph that had faded and worn within a cracked iron frame. Even so the picture could still be made out, the black and white outlines of Gideon Xerxes, Kaiser Nightwind and himself huddled together around a slow burning campfire with their trademark weapons lying to their sides, a rare memento of the Castigar campaign many years ago.

The Commodore looked through the window at the sight of the tinseled glimmer of the rain, pressing a hand against the cool window. A curious wet sheen made the bristling boughs of the firs seem more visible than they should have been. Could it have been ice? No. Stitching through the night, needles of sleet would have made a more brittle sound than the susurrant drumming of this autumn downpour.

Turning his attention back to his dimly lit desk, he shuffled himself back to his seated position, and flicked through the report lying open on his desk. He continued to do so through pursed lips until the Nocturn spotted his desired page, and pressed a finger onto the top right hand corner of the text. The finger covered the black, scrawled text of a name, specifically Gideon Xerxes. Canen ran the digit over the name slowly, as if feeling the meaning of it course through his hand and up into his brain, and closed his eyes as he remembered the prose written on the side of parchment underneath his hand.

Reports from Radasanth, Corone and an eyewitness report from Underwood, Concordia suggest that a rogue warrior believed to be the missing Gideon Xerxes was responsible for the mass murder of a group of militants travelling through the Great Forest on the 29th June of this year. The unmarked uniforms of the men, who had been ripped limb from limb and hung from their intestines in a display of extreme brutality, were found close to the body of former Ghost Hand Order apprentice Sekonda Artremeas, who was believed to be leading the party to Erebus after discovering his former garrison in Concordia had been disbanded. A large oak and steel scythe was found protruding from his chest, which as of yet has been offered no explanation as to its appearance. The only evidence linking Gideon to the killings was the discovery of a bloodsoaked no-dachi sword barely a hundred metres from the battlegrounds. Although no official announcement has been made, the sword was confirmed to be the same Vampire Blade belonging to the aforementioned Nocturnian warrior as used during many of the Red Dragon campaigns, tied at the hilt with a scarlet hankerchief.

Canen knew the 'facts' compiled and published in the press to be inaccurate, one given fact being that the Commodore had not even been mentioned by this so called 'eyewitness' in Concordia. He himself had been the target of the attack, orchastrated not by his brother Gideon but by one of the brutal Haicheyanne that had somehow leaked a portal into Althanas's plain and escaped the sealed ruins of Nocturnis, or so he assumed. What he didn't know was exactly how the former Ghost Hand Partisans had been killed. Canen had been knocked out during the time they had all been massacred and strung up, and had awoken to the stomach turning sight the following morning, and had assumed again that it had been the work of the demon. However, he had previously been quite confused as to how he had been the only survivor...perhaps suggesting Gideon may have had a part in this after all...and why he had not spotted the Vampire Blade near the clearing on his exit. Two questions that had allowed him no sleep for days.

Before he could ponder the matter further, there was a cautious, quiet rapping on the bulk of the heavy oak office door. Canen quickly shovelled the report into a side drawer and cleared his throat.

"Come in..."

It was unusual for anybody to disturb him in the quiet hours of the morning for any reason. The Grander himself had ruled anyone disturbing his beauty sleep would be executed by him personally, although usually the most vicious he ever got was to simply throw a steady torrent of inflammatory insults at the offender until he went away, by which time any 'life or death' situation was quickly downgraded to 'it can wait until the morning'.

"Commodore. Apologies for such a late visit...we have breaking intelligence that I think you might want to see." The black garbed partisan bowed with a courteous dip, and awaited the Commodore's welcoming glance, which he recieved soon after. It was widely known that Canen was a popular commander amongst the troops, being far more understanding of the late night working regieme and having an almost unlimited well of patience than a few of his counterparts. The soldier, a youthful young man with dark hair, placed a thin sheet of paper of Canen's desk which the Commodore glanced at with a deep stare. The expression on his face grew more and more serious with every passing second, until the report was back on the desk, and Canen's eyes stared into the emptiness of space.

"Thank you for the report. Alert the 25th, make the Grander aware of the severity of the situation in the morning. I'll call together the initiates at dawn."

[Lucifer Blight]

So, this is to be my new home for a time? Not too bad, I suppose. Lucifer Blight thought to himself as he sat on his small bed in his dimly lit room. The room contained only the bare essentials, which meant it had nothing more than a bed as well as a small desk. There was also a wooden chair, but that was as luxurious as Lucifer was going to be for a while. But, such simple surroundings would be bearable, at least for a time. After all, in order to achieve things in life one must occasionally sacrifice things that they already own. Lucifer would much rather have someone else do the sacrificing, but that wasn’t an option at the moment.

Power. That was what Lucifer was after. Power to change the world. Well, that may have actually been an overstatement. Although such power would be nice, Lucifer would settle for just enough power to extract vengeance on a certain king. A king that was actually Lucifer’s adopted father, but the two were family in name only. Not only did the two not get along, the young prince and the aging king hated each other. Every chance the two got, they’d happily take whatever they could from the other, laughing sinisterly as they did so. Unfortunately, Lucifer had to admit that his adopted father had a slight advantage when it came to taking things away. After all, Lucifer was but a prince. The man he was trying to kill was a king.

Which was why Lucifer had temporarily left his home and joined this little group. No stranger to the rules of battle, Lucifer knew that a king fighting on his own turf meant that the king would have a home field advantage. In order to offset that advantage, Lucifer would not only require time to think but more power as well. This Grander Order would give Lucifer both. Hidden away from his adopted father’s prying eyes, Lucifer had all the time he needed to plot and scheme to his heart’s content. Also, by its very nature the Grander Order would be a gathering of strong people. Lucifer hoped that some of that strength would rub off on him.

Sighing as he lazily stretched his legs out across his bed, Lucifer turned his attention towards the sole window in his room that let him view the outside world. He could hear the soft pitter-patter of the rain that continually assaulted that small window, accomplishing nothing but an exercise in futility. No matter how much the sky stormed, Lucifer doubted that it would ever be able to find its way into this little fortress. The prince had to hand it to the Order; they sure knew how to choose a good place for a fort. Assaulting this place would not be an easy task. Of course, choosing such a place for a base did make Lucifer wonder who the Order’s enemies were. People didn’t often choose such a defensive and hidden area for a base of operations unless they had something to defend against.

Shifting his gaze from the window to the single candle that lit the room (albeit not very well), Lucifer turned his thoughts away from his future schemes and onto his present situation. Although he had just joined this group, he had in no way been tested, even though he was certain that all newcomers had to be approved in one-way or another. He did wonder just exactly what this place had in store for him as a form of test. With a little luck, it would involve destroying something. If there was one thing Lucifer had learned from his father, it was the art of breaking other people. Whether it was a full-scale war or a simple straightforward duel, Lucifer was confident that he would succeed. After all, the man had absolutely no intention of spending his time as a lowly foot soldier. The prince knew he would have to start off in such a rank, but he would make sure that such a rank was in no way permanent. After all, he was a prince. Perhaps it was a bit overconfident, but Lucifer would be damned if he would go from being a prince to a pauper without any say in the matter. Ironically, Lucifer’s malice and hate was probably already enough to damn him.

Content with the fact that he had schemed enough for one night, Lucifer quickly swung his hand past the soft flame of the candle. The weak flame died instantly from the force of the swing, instantly bathing the room in complete darkness. Smiling, Lucifer laid his head down to rest. After all, tomorrow would be his first day as a member of the Grander Order. From all that preaching he had heard about this group, it promised to be an exciting day at least.

Yawning, Lucifer closed his eyes and drifted off into sleep, dreaming of the day where he would hold his father’s severed head in his hands.

[Falcon Darkflight]

"A demon predetor species, hundreds of thousands of years more experienced in murder than most of the current living of Mankind, possess technology that was not the result of applied science but entirely supernatural, pure magic." That was what the intelligence report had said about the abilities of the the Haicheyanne that had escaped from Concordia forest, after its bloody deed had been instigated upon the former Ghost Hand Partisans commanded by the Commodore. Using a portal jumping technique that allowed the demon to travel from one place to another, it had warped from the murder scene in an attempt to chase the Commodore to Alerar, and had ended up in the depths of Kachuck mines. Canen had seen ample evidence of the truth in that contention and had been counting himself lucky to be alive from the moment he had awoken in a bloodstained haze until the moment his right foot had crossed over the entrance to the concrete Grander's Order Fortress in Erebus.

Concrete is what concrete means. Real. actual. Solid - as in "an artificial stonelike material made by mixing cement with various aggregates." Yet this slab of steel reinforced, poured in place concrete, the stuff of castles and bunkers, seemed to adjust its billions of atoms to precisely fit the interstices between the atoms of the Nocturn's body as he sat in the chair of his office pondering the report endlessly. The floor did not appear to soften. It did not part like the jaws of a shark eager to swallow. It did not blossom outward in concentric circles as does water that has accomodated a dropped stone. What it did do was accept Gideon Xerxes as if he were a spirit - less than ectoplasmic vapor, the merest apparition - and pass through the mortar and stone to appear in front of Canen in smooth descent from the upper floors to the office in which he sat.

Gideon seemed not to be a ghost. He had not passed away. His pale white flesh was as solid and as vunerable as Canen's own. His feet left blood trails on the thin office carpet as the applied pressure to the floor, those thin emerald eyes reflecting in his brother's own. The trademark black greatcoat, wrapping around the second survivor's form like a blanket, swept behind him and contrasted strangely with his long white locks, tangled and matted with red blood. As the final remenants of his body materialised into the oak scented office, the warrior fell onto one knee and took and a breath of air, offering no resistance and met with none. Realising that the form of his brethren seemed not to be in possession of his fabled Vampire Blade, Canen slowly arose to his feet in astonishment. The powerless prisoner of insanity he had once seen before him, the broken form of Gideon, he could no longer see. Instead he saw the true form of his brother, those sharp eyes burning brightly in the early morning light, the same curled lips painted on his face he remembered to be the same one belonging to the saviour of those who had suffered at Asmodeus's hand.

"Gi-deon?...brother?"

Canen hesitated to move a foot as Gideon rose from his knee as silently as he had manifested himself. Standing in that solitary stance, with the discipline expected of a soldier who had fought in so many bloody battles, the 'fallen angel' finally found the breath he had been looking for, bowing with a curtious dip before allowing the grace of his words to pass Canen's ears.

"It is I."

Still somewhat lost for words, the Commodore approached his brother, one step at a time. The oak chair slid back as he approached with caution, reaching out to touch Gideon's cold skin with the tips of his fingers, before snatching his hand back upon the icy feeling. It was him. This was not a dream.

"Where...have you been all this time? It was believed you were..."

"Dead?" Gideon finished, his eyes glistening in the sunrise through the only window of the office. "Yes. It is often assumed that my death has carried me into what we call 'the past tense', brother. However, I stand before you now, do I not? You hear my words, feel my skin in the tips of your fingers, do you not?"

His brother's words sounded almost condenscending, but Canen knew this to be in Gideon's nature. He was simply showing Canen that he was no figment of imagination, a fact Canen was silently being overtaken with joy about. With calm legs, Canen followed Gideon's form to the desk, where he proceeded to open the drawer containing the report and handed it to his brother, his hand still trembling from the shock of this sudden encounter. Gideon thumbed through it with the same amount of enthusiasm his Nocturn counterpart had earlier that morning, his eyes pouring over the text synically.

"I have been watching over the events that have unfolded. When the news of my so called 'death' reached those who knew me, I found it to be the perfect opportunity to continue my training, but I was hindered by an unsettling feeling. I recovered from the psionic damage I suffered, and then came here. That is when I encountered the Haicheyanne for myself."

"It is good to see that the local media are unwavering from their usual factless approach..." The hint of sarcasm in the voice of the fallen angel was enough to confirm to Canen's already convinced mind that the apparition in front of him was indeed his brother, and not a spirit of` the underworld that had come back to haunt him for his past sins. It was also typical of him that he would be, as usual, straight down to business instead of walking the long winded road of explaining his every move over the past seven years to his brother. He owed no explanation, as far as Canen was concerned, to anybody. It was enough that he was alive.

Choosing to avoid the possiblity of getting caught up in meaningless banter that could be saved for a later, less urgent time,, Canen also decided to follow the more direct route. "I need to know why the Haicheyanne are here, Gideon. I need to know how they escaped, and how I survived that attack. My entire division was eradicated, save the one target they should have make their primary objective. If you have any information..."

He needed not continue. The look in Gideon's eyes, that shrewd, untamed look had suggested his entire purpose for appearing in front of his brother had been to share with him the information he had discovered during his time in Corone, however long that had been. "As a matter of fact I do." His grave voice peaked a little as he threw the report back onto the polished oak surface. Turning back to Canen his expression turned from a calm look to a more serious shade. "I know much more than I care to about these deathbringers. What i'm prepared to share with you is a different matter though. I assume you are aware of the one Haicheyanne roaming loose in Concordia? It is no longer there...but you know that..." The deathly silence that followed his pause gave Canen reason to be concerned. "It was hunting you. After I attempted to kill it, it opened a portal into Alerar and transported into the depths of the Kachuck mines."

Another deathly pause, another moments silence, and the bad news came forth. "...Two more of Asmodeus's Haicheyanne have seeped into Althanas from the dimensional tear between this plain and Nocturnis. I don't know how they found out about Althanas, I don't know why they know about you. The problem is that they know, and are currently navigating the mines looking for you. I can only assume that the reason for this is solely due to your connections with the Grander's Order, yes? Don't you have a mining operation in Kachuck?"

Canen's expression turned morbid. "Yes, we do. It isn't much but it is quite significant to our operations..."

Gideon, emotionlessly pouring his eyes over the relics and artefacts of the office cabinet, lowered his tone. "The chances are, brother, you don't anymore. I would suggest what you are already thinking you need to do..."

With that, Gideon's image smashed into a thousand bright shards of light, and the flock of his beady eyes familiars, the jet black crows, seeped through the walls like small winged ghosts until the room was completely vacated of his presence. For a moment Canen paused, brushing an anxious hand through his short hair, before calling for one of his numerous messengers waiting outside of the door.

"Call Lucifer Blight in here. I need to speak with him..."

[Dharyn]

Pardon the delay and the length. This is doubling as a character introduction as well
Taverns in Ettermire were not for the feint of heart. Even those with a grander mission often felt themselves succumb to the dark. Such was the case for the young Thaddeus Eitan. It was his lifelong dream to join the ranks of the Grander’s Order, but its leader Raelyse Salidan thought otherwise. Thaddeus was “too young to face the dangers” of Althanas. The Grander’s methods needn’t “corrupt such a young heart.” At 14, they all thought he was too young to do anything. Thaddeus was out to prove them wrong. He had a need for adventure greater than any other boy of his age. All great adventures begin in taverns, or so he thought. Thus he entered the Dark Moon Tavern in the middle of the night.

When he entered, no one paid him any mind. There were children who looked younger than him in the tavern. Were they children though, or were they another race? Thaddeus hadn’t attended school since he ran away from his foster home nearly four months ago. The boy walked up to the bar and climbed onto a stool. “I’ll take a glass of ale,” Thaddeus told the bartender.

“Hmph, and how do you expect to pay for it boy?” The bartender responded. Thaddeus reached to his pocket. His clothes were tattered and he hadn’t showered in days. His body smelled like a mixture of bandaid and sweat. It was no wonder the bartender mistook him for a street rat.

Thaddeus grabbed the money and lifted it from his coat. “With this,” he claimed proudly. He’d earned the money doing chores for Raelyse

The bartender wasn’t happy about being one-upped by a child. He shook his head and turned away. “We don’t serve minors here,” he said with another grunt.

“What? This is an outrage!” Thaddeus exclaimed. “That boy is drinking ale and he can’t be much older than me.” He pointed to a small humanoid demon. The demon growled, but the lovely blonde woman he was with let out a little snicker. The bartender just walked away leaving Thaddeus to pout. “Always too young...” He put his head down on the bar to hide the fact that he was angry.

A short time passed and Thaddeus quickly forgot about the bartender. He was bored, like any other young adventurer, he turned to the only woman in the room. It was the blonde that was with the demon, except the demon was no where around. Thaddeus jumped up and walked over to her. She smiled as he approached, and invited him to sit at a table across from her. “Hi there ma’am, I’m Thaddeus Eitan, adventurer extraordinaire. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too Thaddeus. I’m Emma. You know, that was a very clever thing you said to the bartender. You definitely put him on the spot.” Emma responded.

“Well, your buddy didn’t seem too impressed.”

Emma laughed, “That’s because he’s a demon and a rather famous one at that. He is a “distant cousin” or something to Zieg dil’Tulfried, the famous demon lord of Haidia.”

“Well, he looks more like Ter-Thok, you know, the guy who won the LCC a few years back.” Thaddeus said. He knew everything there was to know about tournaments. It was his secondary goal, after he’d seen the world with the Grander’s Order, to win an Althanas tournament. Emma began laughing softly. She seemed particularly amused with the boy. It made him feel good. Raelyse was known for his success with women, but after this show, Thaddeus was confident he could give the prince a few pointers. “So what’s a nice girl like you doing in Ettermire?”

It was then that the demon returned. “What? What did you just ask her?” The demon spoke in an extremely high and shrill voice. Apparently the demon was as popular as the woman had said. The entire tavern had turned their attention to Thaddeus and the demon. “You really have some gall boy. You come in here, you insult me and then you insult my girl. I should kill you right here.”

“Do you think I’m afraid of you,” Thaddeus asked. “When you’ve challenged legends like Raelyse Salidan and Canen Darkflight and lived to tell about it then you’ll have room to talk.” Thaddeus stretched the truth a bit. He’d only “lived” because the two leaders rarely paid him any mind.

“You don’t know who you’re talking to, do you punk?” The demon was now standing over Thaddeus. He was a lot taller than he was at the bar. “Please Deus, he’s just a boy.” The woman mumbled, a sure sign that something was about to happen.

“You sure are ugly.”

Then it started: the demon shoved Thaddeus into a table causing it to crash on top of the young boy. However, with the spirit of a true adventurer, Thaddeus slowly rose to his feet and growled. Thaddeus advanced, but rather than punching, he kicked the demon straight in his junk. Even though he couldn’t pick all races out of a crowd, he knew where to attack them. The demon winced and then started chasing Thaddeus all over the tavern. They tripped over patrons, sent bottles of alcohol flying and created a panic among the other patrons.

Thaddeus was about to make a break for the door when one of the demon’s friends stuck his foot out, tripping the boy and sending him sprawling to the ground. Before he could turn and get up, the demon was upon him. The demon trapped his legs and pushed its knee into Thaddeus’ abdomen. He couldn’t breath! “I wasn’t kidding kid. Deus shows no mercy.” Deus pulled out a small dagger and brought it back behind his head. Thaddeus could only look up with bright eyes as the dagger came slamming down. Some adventurer he was…

There was loud clang, and a voice yelled “Enough.” The dagger had struck something, but it wasn’t Thaddeus. The demon dropped the dagger and grabbed his tingling hand. Both he and Thaddeus looked about for the source of the voice. Then Thaddeus saw him. He was an enigma. A tall man with long silvery hair, he was wearing a long white robe. The way he presented himself he looked as strong as Prince Raelyse or Canen. The demon had found him as well. It pulled a sword from its back and was holding it at ready. “Do you think you can stop me?”

“Yes.” The enigma responded. He took a step towards the demon and revealed two beautiful blades. Thaddeus watched in awe as the man twisted them into an attack position.

When the demon began to speak what was sure to be another snide remark, the man was already upon him. As he passed through the air, he cleanly cut off two of the circular lamps that were hanging from the ceiling. Active wires were exposed in their wake. He threw them at the demon and then jumped back. He turned his swords in an arcane motion and screamed out “AURORA.” A beam of darkness shot out from the point where the two swords met, but it was not aimed at the demon. Instead the tendril slammed into the lamp. The bowl shape of the lamp turned the darkness around. The tendril then crashed into the second lamp, which similarly reflected the light. Soon the demon was caught in a web of darkness. If he touched it, the tendril would burn his dark skin.

“What? What is this magic?” Deus cried. The man walked up to the demon and slammed his sword through the darkness barrier, impaling demon straight through the stomach. Without responding, the man lifted the demon into the air and put his head against the exposed wiring. Deus screamed and the man pulled his sword out of its stomach. A charred demon fell to the ground and looked up at the man in horror. “It’s…it’s you, but you’re.”

“Correct,” the enigma said before turning away. It was unclear how the demon died. Perhaps it was the electricity or the severe loss of blood prior to being burned. Deus hunched over and the woman screamed. Patrons that had gathered to watch the spectacle nervously backed away as the enigma walked to the door. Thaddeus wasn’t sure to be afraid or not. He was still in awe of the marvel he’d just witnessed.

The man looked at Thaddeus as he approached. When he stopped in front of the boy, Thaddeus couldn’t help but gulp. “There is little difference between the brave and the foolish. The brave faces challenges because they must. The foolish face them because they can.” The enigma offered his hand to the boy. Thaddeus shook his head softly and then took the hand. It was smooth and dry, but notably cold. Once Thaddeus was on his feet, the man was already walking out the door.

Thaddeus stood dumbfounded as the door closed behind the man and the bartender decided what to do with the mess. Eventually he gave up and poured himself a glass of ale. It took awhile for Thaddeus to realize that the reason the man’s hand was smooth was because he’d passed the man a small laminated card. Mit’val Dharyn. The boy put it in his pocket and ran off back to the boat he’d arrived on.

Canen Darkflight would mostly likely find the card on his desk the next morning with an extremely excited Thaddeus Eitan waiting to tell him stories about his adventure.

[Lucifer Blight]

For some reason unknown to him, Lucifer had always been a rather light sleeper. Perhaps it had something to do with his current life-style, or maybe he was just born that way. In any case, when the soldier loudly slammed open the wooden door to Lucifer’s room, the noise was more than enough to startle Lucifer out of his somewhat peaceful sleep.

“Beg your pardon sir, but your attention is required…” Began the soldier, but Lucifer quickly stopped paying attention. If there was one thing Lucifer despised, it was being woken up in the middle of the night. Shifting his attention away from the annoying messenger, Lucifer turned to look out his solitary window that showed him the outside world. Still dark. Damn this fool to hell.

“Sir? The Grand Commodore is waiting.” The messenger said, finally managing to re-acquire Lucifer’s attention. Lucifer eyed the man coolly, but eventually swung himself out of his bed and landed on the cold stone floor below. Lucifer felt an icy rush run through his bare feet as he made his way over to the messenger.

“Grand Commodore eh? Well, why didn’t you say so?” Lucifer muttered as he reached the man. In fact, the messenger had actually said that earlier, but Lucifer had completely tuned it out. A puzzled look crossed the soldier’s face as he began his speech all over again, but Lucifer simply waved him off and reached for the door.

“Forget it. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I probably better wear something a little nicer than this.” Lucifer muttered as he motioned toward the sweats and T-shirt he had slept in. Without giving the messenger time to respond, Lucifer quickly slammed the door shut and made his way over to where his clothes lay. I hate being woken up! Stupid, lousy, rotten, messenger! Couldn’t it wait until morning? Lucifer silently raged as he got dressed. Today was off to a great start.

Several minutes later…

The sound of his footsteps echoed down the dimly lit passage way as Lucifer strolled towards the Commodore’s office. His slightly long black hair was now combed back, and Lucifer had switched his simple clothes for a much more formal outfit. The prince had absolutely no intention of showing up in the presence of the second-in-command in nothing with a rumpled shirt and messy hair. The dark silver long sleeve shirt and pants that he now wore were much more fitting to the style of a prince. After all, Lucifer still had his pride.

Guess everyone else got to sleep in. Lucky bastards. Lucifer noted to himself as he made his way down yet another empty passage. It made Lucifer wonder if he had somehow already managed to anger one of the higher ups, but he thought that was pretty unlikely considering he had only just arrived. What? Did I forget to tip the kid who showed me to my room?

Lucifer’s hand groped about in the darkness for the knob to the door in front of him as he pondered the situation. If he was in for a lecture, there was no reason for it to not wait until morning. Most likely, something interesting was up. Perhaps if he were younger Lucifer would feel a small sense of curiosity, but right now the curiosity Lucifer felt was nothing compared to his poor eyesight that had yet to adjust itself to the darkness.

“Why can’t they light the damn halls better?” Lucifer muttered to himself as he finally found the knob and gave it a harsh turn. The door instantly came open, revealing yet another hallway. However, this hallway was lit far better than the previous one, causing Lucifer to instinctively twitch as the bright light flooded his eyes. Perhaps whoever was in charge of the hallways found a certain twisted pleasure in blinding whoever decided to go for a midnight stroll. Regardless, Lucifer made a mental note to be more careful for what he wished for.

The minute he could see straight Lucifer’s eyes zeroed in on the door at the far end of the stone hallway. From here, Lucifer could see that light was escaping from that door through the bottom, meaning that whoever was inside was still up. Apparently, the Grand Commodore was a bit of a night owl. Wasting no more time admiring the dull scenery, Lucifer quickly strolled down the hall and opened the door.

“You wanted to see me, Grand Commodore?”

[Vorin]

This thread hasn't been posted in a month. I'm closing it up due to inactivity and moving it to the "Unresolved" Forum. Please Private message me to retrieve it if you intend on completing it further. Thank you.