Wetworks Initiation Thread - The Night Walkers

[Enigmatic Immortal]

“This meeting will have to be brief.”

The green tarp of the canopy snapped and bent in the wind, howling rain beating upon the fabric like impatient fingers upon wood. Pockets of rainfall would fall like waterfalls into remote areas of the makeshift tent, a single piece of oak resting on two uneven logs were the best the resistance group could manage for the interim while the army attempted to catch up.

A younger fellow, scruffy and unshaven, ran a shaky hand through oily black hair. He looked to the plans on the table with a huff of a sigh, as if trying to divine some ancient wisdom from the map with circles painted all over major critical towns and their holds. He fixed his leather jacket, tightening it around his shoulders letting it creak audibly in the quiet air, four other men surrounding the table as well.

“The set back at Churchill will cost us a few thousand in gold, not to mention the loss of man power. We have to hold at the Braum River for at least a few days until we can get reinforcements. Harrison will take his scouts and set traps in the woods and advanced warning if any significant troop movements come.” The speaker turned to the one named Harrison and gave him a grim nod. While they were all cold and obviously shaken, his reassuring gesture gave Harrison enough courage to nod back quickly, already pulling out a map of the surrounding woodlands.

“I can make noise traps here, here, and here,” he spoke rapidly to the assembled people. His fingers moved along his map to indicate the locations he spoke of. “Listen for them, because if they go off you’ll have a twenty man raid heading your way or worse. My scouts and I can handle anything smaller than that with quick strikes.”

“We have to detain them long enough to make the push a fruitless endeavor.” The man next to Harrison spoke next, aged fingers pointing to an arming supply base near the River by a windmill. His greying hair clashed with his white hair, brown eyes full of aged wisdom and experience drawn from a life of hard work. He spoke like a father would to his children; set in his ways and not going to be convinced otherwise. “My huntsman and I will strike their supply base. If we can take it out, then…” he hesitated a moment as his voice trailed away a hidden meaning he didn’t want to convey. The leader of the group spoke again, his voice picking up his hesitation with reassurance.

“Then should we not hold the river, they will not be able to push any further. Be careful old timer, I promised a woman you know very well your safe return. Do not make me a liar.” There was nervous laughter as they took a moment to de-stress from their long voyage. Recently they had a foothold within the Concordian Forest, but a major offensive from the local government of Corone pushed them back. The Imperials have spent their entire war forcing submission of the surrounding area, increasing taxes and workloads as punishment for aiding the Ixian Knights in the Civil War. A group of Rebels had fought back, trying to push the Imperial forces away and out. They were a long way from home and if the fringe towns showed they couldn’t be pushed around, Corone would leave them be.

That plan horribly backfired.

Not only did the Coronian Empire take the rebellion as treason, they have pushed several of their forces into the area and began acts of war that went beyond sending a simple message. Entire villages were forced into work camps, where all the food they had saved was given to the Empire, then the village was burnt to the ground and the workers freed to fend for themselves. Then they approached the next town and offered two choices: Join and be kept under leash, or suffer the same fate as the last town.

At first the Rebels managed to fight back, forcing the enemy into their own territory and keeping them at bay, but recently, a new group of warrior elite had shown themselves. Wherever they went, the battle turned into a massacre. This was the fifth bug out the Rebels had to do in the face of the enemy, and to give up this last bit of ground would end them once and for all.

Sei Orlouge and the Ixians had been contacted, and while they couldn’t directly help the Rebels, Sei assured the messenger that their “plight wasn’t being ignored.” So far nothing had shown from the Ixians, and the leader had held his tongue about it until now. It seemed painfully obvious that the Ixians were not sending help.

He set his jaw straight and brought the rest of the hard working men to attention. They did not have long to waste before they had to set other plans into motion. “There is the one problem. The Night Walkers,” he said irritably, as if the very concept couldn’t be rationalized. “They have yet to be found, and yet to be stopped. If we can’t stop them, we’ll not be able to hold off any longer. I will not kid you guys; we fail here, this rebellion is over and we will be hanged. We have to find them and take them out.”

The room remained silent, for nobody wanted to speak the deadly truth. They had no clue where this elite forces group was. They had no man power to even look for them. They were not secret agents or master warriors. They were a rag tag group of villagers who worked together for a common goal. Some had served before in the Coronian army, but at the end of the day they could beat the Imperials only in guerrilla war and hit and run. That had changed when the Night Walkers became a force to reckon with. Highly trained, fighting the dirty fight against a dirty opponent. They raided the Rebels supply houses, killed key personnel, blew up supply stashes, and made an already difficult war impossible to fight.

The wind blew harder against the tent flap, and a crack of lightning illuminated the area making several men jump. They jumped again when they saw the entrance to their makeshift tent was open and four men stood before them. They looked like any other rag tag group of mercenaries, but the one in the front had a grin that could devour demons. His red tipped hair let drips of rain water cascade down his face. He stood there with his cocky grin, arms crossed over his chest with a confidence that made him look smarmy and crass, but the air of authority he brought with him gave a soft reluctance to admit that he was as damn good as he thought he was.

Behind him was a warrior with a bow, standing to his left and nearly invisible to the group. Indeed many had to look three times to realize he was there watching them all, already finished assessing them. The man on the opposite end looked like a killer through and through, and his crazed gaze flashed to each one, a soft smile on his face. Why he smiled nobody was sure, but he added a certain menace to the display of power. The last stood behind the leader, arms mirrored in the fashion of the one before him as he cocked his head to the side and smiled as well. He looked human in nature, but something about him was off.

“Who are you?” the head of the tattered rebels asked in a slight stupor.

“The one’s who are gonna get your dick out of the bear trap,” he said with a giggle. “We’re the help Sei couldn’t send, the team that doesn’t exist. Thank your gods now, gentlemen, the cavalry has arrived. Now, about those Night Walkers…”

~*~*~

Jensen listend to all the information he was given about these so called Night Walkers with a detached care. Chances were slim these idiots would have a better idea of who they were than Jensen would at first glance. However they also didn’t have Talen Shadowalker’s covert operations network. It took the teenager a few weeks to dig up the black operations file on the Night Walkers, but he did find some information. They were created during the Civil War to assist the Viceroy’s in dispatching upstart towns and hubs from turning into another Ixian Knight stronghold much like Valdta. They were trained to induce fear, infiltrate, smuggle, and do everything illegally possible to get their job done. Too bad Jensen’s wetworks team did the same thing, and better to his opinion.

He walked away from the tent of rebels with his entourage in tow, looking back to Terry and Matt with a disgruntled face. The situation, while he played it off calmly, wasn’t so black and white. “Listen up,” Jensen said seriously. “The Night Walkers are not just a bunch of elite soldiers in the Imperial Army. Remember Sei’s reformation team? Helping criminals gain their freedom by assisting the Ixian Knights and working for the good of the people? They are the exact opposite. Murderer’s, top spies that were caught, and all sorts of societies dregs were given the option to join this unit or perish. Not exactly hard choice,” Jensen joked.

He moved into the canopy of the tree’s, grabbing his satchel of items and watching as the others did the same. “Some tough crackers in there too. A Hex Mage, a vampiress, couple of Dark Elven assassin’s. They are pretty well trained and the worst part is the idiots in the Empire are giving them what they want. No rules, just obedience to do what the Viceroy’s want.”

He turned to the warrior with the bow, nodding to him. “Get some eyes and ears on the surrounding area, see if you can find where they are camping, alright Shadow?” Jensen looked to the other two. “As for us, let’s do some recon and a little charity work for the Rebels. Let’s go spook the imperials in their beds.”

[grim137]

“Oh Concordia you old girl, you've changed since I last saw you...”

Xanbata had fond memories Concordia forest. Back when he'd first arrived on Althanas, in a story so stupid even M. Night Shyamalan wouldn't put his name on that script, he landed in a elven settlement among the trees. Years later when he'd first been given the gift of vampirism, back when he foolishly thought it was a curse, he would hunt among the wilderness, feeding off of the beasts that lived within and the occasional traveler who was unfortunate enough lose their way off the beaten path. Years and yet another strange twist of events after that and his first life had been ended in the forest by an assassin from the government named Izvilvin. But years of change and the war that had come with them had changed things and the forest no longer seemed as comforting to the monster as it had once been.

It was kind of funny though. After what seemed like a life time away from place that once provided him with so much food and shelter he'd come back after yet another strange and convoluted turn of events. The blood drinker's perpetual pursuit of entertainment and brought him to Corone to perform a job for one of the local crime families. Nothing fancy, just a quick hatchet job at a rival family's brothel. To say Xanbata Grim might have gone a little overboard was an understatement. Even so it would have been an utterly uneventful night, just a quick and easy, in and out massacre had the famous Sei Orlouge not decided to investigate. A quick scuffle later and it was decided he'd become a Knight. Sei and his men got a new soldier, Xanbata got the kind of purpose he craved and nobody in the group would try to hunt him down a bring him to justice.

Everybody wins.

Xanbata was put on the Wet Works team, the Ixian Knights equivalent of black ops where they felt the monster's unique talents could be put to good use. He'd tried to get put on the public face team but Sei didn't share his sense of humor. Saying you helped rehabilitate those who had lost their way was one thing, showing the world that you employed mass murderers was another. It was probably for the best anyways since the Wet Works had less regulations on what tactics were and were not considered too extreme or too barbaric.

The sopping wet vampire strolled casually into the tent behind the other vampire, next to the ninja and in front of his commanding officer. He looked over at each of the rag tag looking rebels, smiling and mentally sizing each of them up one by one. None of them seemed like they were anything special but the way they squirmed with discomfort under his gaze showed they were at least smart enough to know their place on the food chain. He could appreciate that.

Xanbata moved to the far side of the tent and plopped himself down on the cold ground. He listened to the rebel leader brief commander Jensen with only half interest, paying more attention to the sounds of the storm instead. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in the mission just that he didn't care about the reasons behind it. Politics bored Xanbata and he knew as well as anyone that people killed each other for all sorts of asinine reasons. As long as he knew which ones he was supposed to kill he was happy. No real justification required.

Once Jensen led them outside into the rain soaked forest Xanbata perked up a bit and not just because the things Jensen was saying actually pertained to him and mission directly. As the commander explained just who and what Xanbata and the others would be fighting the vampire couldn't help but feel a bit more excited. Attacking a bunch of rank and file soldiers would have been one thing but he had been there done that. These so called Night Walkers on the other hand, sounded like much bigger game.

“One question commander,” said Xanbata turning toward Jensen “If we find one of these...Night Walkers...do you want us to capture them or kill them?”

[matthewkuch]

"Thank your Gods now, gentlemen, the cavalry has arrived..."

Gavner glanced around the tent as his commander began to speak with the leaders of the resistance. The ground nearest to the sides of the tent was soaked and water was seeping in, but the center was dry for the most part. There was not much room in the first place, but what little space on the ground there was had been cleared of all objects and trampled to dirt. Too much pacing had been done tonight. A vampire did not even need to look at anybody to know that people were nervous and on edge; he could smell fear in the air. The sky outside the tent flashed followed by a crack of thunder, making everybody from the resistance jump. Gavner's eyes wandered the room until they came to rest on a middle aged man who was suspiciously eyeing Xanbata.

Out of the two vampires on the team Xanbata was certainly more frightening than Gavner; he was a different breed. There were several breeds of vampires but they all shared common ground; they needed human blood to function. Xanbata was certainly more frightening than Gavner as he looked far more supernatural and undead. For the most part one could mistake Gavner for a very pale human if they did not know what to look for in a vampire. Xanbata was resting on the other side of the tent. He had drawn quite a bit of attention from the rebels; this was obvious because they were shifting in their seats and they kept resting their gaze on him. Nobody paid much heed to Gavner, which was just the way he liked it.

As Jensen finished giving orders he led the team outside the tent where they parted with Black Shadow. Gavner could barely hear him stalking through the night as he disappeared into the thick darkness. Gavner silently stalked through the forest with the other two assassins. He was unfamiliar with the area but most forests seemed to be the same to him; just another place for enemies to hide out. Gavner wondered about the mission they were on, and then about his team. Although there were many mysterious things about them, one thing was evident; they were not inexperienced.