Saxon
07-02-07, 12:11 AM
(Closed and this thread, to budget time, contains mini-stories over the period of a few years before the 2007 Gisela Open. Enjoy.)
Slowly dry, powerful hands wrenched a small, quaint journal from the bloodstained fingers of the corpse of a man frozen in terror with a massive, smoking crater gaping through his chest. Pushing the cadaver off of his cherry wood chair with a thud, strong calloused hands moved over the surface of the cover as the sound of a nose could be heard smelling the scent of the grainy, fine paper. The roar of the fire inside the cabin caused the man to smile nostalgically as he looked towards the window where the foreboding night glowered.
Carefully sitting upon the seat, the man tried not to shift his weight as he read the wet ink upon the cover aloud," Watcher Report A42.. hm, that must mean you.. dated June 14th, 2006 - July 1st 2007.. you all go by that time stamp? A shame. Now then, who was it exactly you were watching?". Placing the leathery journal upon the oaken desk, the man opened the cover and began to read carefully, his interest beginning to peak at the mention of the subject's name," Ah! Saxon!..", he grumbled in surprise. Slowly the journal's ink and bloodstained pages came to life as the chain of memories of the eldritch seeped slowly into the faceless reader's mind.
~*~
June 15th, 2006
Standing outside a particularly empty street, an ebony man clad in a pin-striped suit felt out of place as he gazed at his watch. Scratching his bald head, the man glowered at the crescent moon overhead and muttered," Picture it, Saxon. A prison cell under lock and key and nothing but one meal a day and a bucket to shit in. Now imagine what it'll be like once I have them take away your bucket.".
The sound of dress shoes and the clacking of a staff against the pavement caused the angered man to turn in surprise. A sullen, quiet man melted out of the darkness and into the flickering light of the street lamp with a smirk upon his face," I don't imagine I would enjoy that one bit, Mr. Locke".
Extending his hand towards the pale stranger, the man seemed surprised at the way the weird approached him, his eyes having an air of confidence he didn't seem to possess in the daylight," M-Mr. Saxon, I was told I would be able to recognize you once I saw you."
Shaking the man's hand with a strong grip, the eldritch smiled," That’s a bit of a backhanded compliment, now isn't it?", Not waiting for the man to retort, he tilted his head," I was told by your source that you represented someone who knows me.. your a liar, right?"
Locke began to chuckle as he let go of his hand and checked the weight of his brief-case uneasily," Lawyer," he corrected and nodded towards a bench," My client wishes to stay.. unknown.. in these dealings of ours, I'm sure you understand?"
Sitting next to him upon the rotten bench that smelled suspiciously of rancid urine, Saxon looked to him coolly," Fine. You have me here, now tell me what this 'urgent' business is about and stow the mister routine."
Opening the silver flaps of his tanned, lizard-skinned brief case, the attorney pulled a thick, hefty file contained in a manila folder and extended it to the eldritch," Tell me, Saxon, have you ever heard of the Gisela Open?". Locke watched the weird precariously pop the scarlet wax seal of the folder and read the intimate details.
"Yeah, I've heard of it.. some tournament where people pretend to be kings for a day and command serfs and what not," The eldritch stated as he flipped through various photographs of figures cloaked in various trench coats, and dead bodies outlined in grim, white chalk when he came across a black and white photo of a stocky man possessing shaded glasses and a crude, black bowler tipped upon his scalp. For some reason this photograph seemed to instill an uneasy feeling until he saw what the man was standing over," W-where did you get this?! Who is this?!" the weird snapped in a flash of anger.
Placing his black, ebon finger upon the photograph, the man smiled," Meet the man who has been stalking you for the last year-and-a-half. His name is Jericho Caldwell, and where I've gotten it is not important," pulling a piece of file paper from the stack out of memory, he placed it to the top," I ascertain you know where he is, but do you know what he is?".
Mumbling as he read carefully down the paper, Saxon's eyes darted from left to right when he whispered," Confirmed leader of a mocked, bureaucratic organization that borders on acts of terrorism..", licking his lips the weird looked up for a moment before turning his gaze at the lawyer in cool, awkward silence.
"Ignore the terrorist rhetoric, this was written by someone inside Corone's formal government. The truth is, Caldwell and his organization represent a patriotic attempt to change the face of their country into one of cold calculation and fierce, stubborn racism. He has been watching you ever since you pulled that stunt with the Dadghaal," the attorney said with a grain of patience. The truth was, behind that shimmering mask of stoicism was the terror that one could find when he or she dealt with the fabled 'big players' that ran the world.
Closing the flap of the huge, carefully organized file, the weird gazed up slowly at the moon as he mulled this business in his head slowly. After a long while he spoke up," So why is your boss showing me all of this? Hm? I don't understand why such powerful men would be interested in me."
Having wondered about this very same thing ever since the name of the notorious eldritch was first smacked down upon his desk, Morris Locke could only look away as he shoved the file back into his briefcase," How would you like to play king for a day, Saxon?"
Quickly sensing what the lawyer was proposing the man narrowed his azure eyes," No. I will not be involved in such a stunt, it exploits the weak in order to empower a single man. I will not be apart of it!".
Closing the clasps to his briefcase, the lawyer stood and buttoned his jacket out of routine," Saxon. Your statement is noble, but what if I were to tell you that a certain leader will be dining with the competitors and the bulk of Althanas' homemade heroes and villains. Then what would you say?".
Pulling himself up slowly, the pale eldritch stood on equal footing with the neutral advocate and squinted," Why would I need to compete when I can just show up at the dinner and crush this Caldwell like a bug?".
Shaking his head, the lawyer let out a brief, hearty chuckle before he wagged his finger at the eldritch," My client did tell me that you are a man that moves with haste," losing the smile upon his face, Locke dropped the finger and said soberly," And that’s exactly the kind of talk that will get you killed one day, eldritch. You cannot go to that dinner without an invitation, and even if you do, Caldwell will be expecting it and have you cut down before you even make it through the door. The only way your going to meet this man in person is by force, and not even the leader of an organization specialized in political black-ops will be able to stop you from attending the Gisela Open".
Nodding his head, the eldritch took a step back and muttered," I knew it," taking another step back, Saxon threw his hands in the air and howled," You people always need me to get your dirty work done for you! How do you all keep finding me?!".
Patting his pocket instinctively where his pistol laid holstered, the attorney looked to be on the end of a very long rope," Saxon. My client has similar interests, and he feels that Caldwell isn't something that Althanas needs in these current times. He will ruin Corone and he will rip this world apart in his search for power. You'd be doing a public se-".
"Stow it! I'm tired of being the pawn in these games and your boss really needs to drop the public service line, because it is getting old", interrupted the weird, his smouldering blue eyes fixated upon the lawyer.
"You finished?", the attorney retorted, his patience growing uncomfortably thin.
Waving a hand at the man, Saxon sighed and held onto Syvriak as the world began to spin out of control and mumbled," Yeah, I'm done.".
"Good," the lawyer said as he pulled a card out of his breast pocket and flicked it in the direction of the weird who caught it surprisingly fast," Meet me at that address tomorrow at exactly noon. The man we're meeting isn't exactly patient," without another word, Morris turned and began to walk down the same street he had came earlier that night.
Looking quickly at the card, Saxon almost tripped over his staff when he realized what he was being pulled into," 578 Saint Road?! Wait a minute! I never agreed to thi- who are we meeting?!".
"We're off to see the necromancer, Saxon. I don't know you if you show up late!", the familiar voice of the attorney called out in the darkness, the sound of his expensive dress shoes against the pavement gradually fading away.
"Great!", the weird shouted so loud that it even startled him. Shoving the card into his coat pocket, the eldritch began to wrestle with his inner demons as he turned to the direction where he came. Abandoning his hope of slumbering quietly within one of Radasanth's famous brothels, the eldritch mumbled," Just great.".
~*~
Slowly dry, powerful hands wrenched a small, quaint journal from the bloodstained fingers of the corpse of a man frozen in terror with a massive, smoking crater gaping through his chest. Pushing the cadaver off of his cherry wood chair with a thud, strong calloused hands moved over the surface of the cover as the sound of a nose could be heard smelling the scent of the grainy, fine paper. The roar of the fire inside the cabin caused the man to smile nostalgically as he looked towards the window where the foreboding night glowered.
Carefully sitting upon the seat, the man tried not to shift his weight as he read the wet ink upon the cover aloud," Watcher Report A42.. hm, that must mean you.. dated June 14th, 2006 - July 1st 2007.. you all go by that time stamp? A shame. Now then, who was it exactly you were watching?". Placing the leathery journal upon the oaken desk, the man opened the cover and began to read carefully, his interest beginning to peak at the mention of the subject's name," Ah! Saxon!..", he grumbled in surprise. Slowly the journal's ink and bloodstained pages came to life as the chain of memories of the eldritch seeped slowly into the faceless reader's mind.
~*~
June 15th, 2006
Standing outside a particularly empty street, an ebony man clad in a pin-striped suit felt out of place as he gazed at his watch. Scratching his bald head, the man glowered at the crescent moon overhead and muttered," Picture it, Saxon. A prison cell under lock and key and nothing but one meal a day and a bucket to shit in. Now imagine what it'll be like once I have them take away your bucket.".
The sound of dress shoes and the clacking of a staff against the pavement caused the angered man to turn in surprise. A sullen, quiet man melted out of the darkness and into the flickering light of the street lamp with a smirk upon his face," I don't imagine I would enjoy that one bit, Mr. Locke".
Extending his hand towards the pale stranger, the man seemed surprised at the way the weird approached him, his eyes having an air of confidence he didn't seem to possess in the daylight," M-Mr. Saxon, I was told I would be able to recognize you once I saw you."
Shaking the man's hand with a strong grip, the eldritch smiled," That’s a bit of a backhanded compliment, now isn't it?", Not waiting for the man to retort, he tilted his head," I was told by your source that you represented someone who knows me.. your a liar, right?"
Locke began to chuckle as he let go of his hand and checked the weight of his brief-case uneasily," Lawyer," he corrected and nodded towards a bench," My client wishes to stay.. unknown.. in these dealings of ours, I'm sure you understand?"
Sitting next to him upon the rotten bench that smelled suspiciously of rancid urine, Saxon looked to him coolly," Fine. You have me here, now tell me what this 'urgent' business is about and stow the mister routine."
Opening the silver flaps of his tanned, lizard-skinned brief case, the attorney pulled a thick, hefty file contained in a manila folder and extended it to the eldritch," Tell me, Saxon, have you ever heard of the Gisela Open?". Locke watched the weird precariously pop the scarlet wax seal of the folder and read the intimate details.
"Yeah, I've heard of it.. some tournament where people pretend to be kings for a day and command serfs and what not," The eldritch stated as he flipped through various photographs of figures cloaked in various trench coats, and dead bodies outlined in grim, white chalk when he came across a black and white photo of a stocky man possessing shaded glasses and a crude, black bowler tipped upon his scalp. For some reason this photograph seemed to instill an uneasy feeling until he saw what the man was standing over," W-where did you get this?! Who is this?!" the weird snapped in a flash of anger.
Placing his black, ebon finger upon the photograph, the man smiled," Meet the man who has been stalking you for the last year-and-a-half. His name is Jericho Caldwell, and where I've gotten it is not important," pulling a piece of file paper from the stack out of memory, he placed it to the top," I ascertain you know where he is, but do you know what he is?".
Mumbling as he read carefully down the paper, Saxon's eyes darted from left to right when he whispered," Confirmed leader of a mocked, bureaucratic organization that borders on acts of terrorism..", licking his lips the weird looked up for a moment before turning his gaze at the lawyer in cool, awkward silence.
"Ignore the terrorist rhetoric, this was written by someone inside Corone's formal government. The truth is, Caldwell and his organization represent a patriotic attempt to change the face of their country into one of cold calculation and fierce, stubborn racism. He has been watching you ever since you pulled that stunt with the Dadghaal," the attorney said with a grain of patience. The truth was, behind that shimmering mask of stoicism was the terror that one could find when he or she dealt with the fabled 'big players' that ran the world.
Closing the flap of the huge, carefully organized file, the weird gazed up slowly at the moon as he mulled this business in his head slowly. After a long while he spoke up," So why is your boss showing me all of this? Hm? I don't understand why such powerful men would be interested in me."
Having wondered about this very same thing ever since the name of the notorious eldritch was first smacked down upon his desk, Morris Locke could only look away as he shoved the file back into his briefcase," How would you like to play king for a day, Saxon?"
Quickly sensing what the lawyer was proposing the man narrowed his azure eyes," No. I will not be involved in such a stunt, it exploits the weak in order to empower a single man. I will not be apart of it!".
Closing the clasps to his briefcase, the lawyer stood and buttoned his jacket out of routine," Saxon. Your statement is noble, but what if I were to tell you that a certain leader will be dining with the competitors and the bulk of Althanas' homemade heroes and villains. Then what would you say?".
Pulling himself up slowly, the pale eldritch stood on equal footing with the neutral advocate and squinted," Why would I need to compete when I can just show up at the dinner and crush this Caldwell like a bug?".
Shaking his head, the lawyer let out a brief, hearty chuckle before he wagged his finger at the eldritch," My client did tell me that you are a man that moves with haste," losing the smile upon his face, Locke dropped the finger and said soberly," And that’s exactly the kind of talk that will get you killed one day, eldritch. You cannot go to that dinner without an invitation, and even if you do, Caldwell will be expecting it and have you cut down before you even make it through the door. The only way your going to meet this man in person is by force, and not even the leader of an organization specialized in political black-ops will be able to stop you from attending the Gisela Open".
Nodding his head, the eldritch took a step back and muttered," I knew it," taking another step back, Saxon threw his hands in the air and howled," You people always need me to get your dirty work done for you! How do you all keep finding me?!".
Patting his pocket instinctively where his pistol laid holstered, the attorney looked to be on the end of a very long rope," Saxon. My client has similar interests, and he feels that Caldwell isn't something that Althanas needs in these current times. He will ruin Corone and he will rip this world apart in his search for power. You'd be doing a public se-".
"Stow it! I'm tired of being the pawn in these games and your boss really needs to drop the public service line, because it is getting old", interrupted the weird, his smouldering blue eyes fixated upon the lawyer.
"You finished?", the attorney retorted, his patience growing uncomfortably thin.
Waving a hand at the man, Saxon sighed and held onto Syvriak as the world began to spin out of control and mumbled," Yeah, I'm done.".
"Good," the lawyer said as he pulled a card out of his breast pocket and flicked it in the direction of the weird who caught it surprisingly fast," Meet me at that address tomorrow at exactly noon. The man we're meeting isn't exactly patient," without another word, Morris turned and began to walk down the same street he had came earlier that night.
Looking quickly at the card, Saxon almost tripped over his staff when he realized what he was being pulled into," 578 Saint Road?! Wait a minute! I never agreed to thi- who are we meeting?!".
"We're off to see the necromancer, Saxon. I don't know you if you show up late!", the familiar voice of the attorney called out in the darkness, the sound of his expensive dress shoes against the pavement gradually fading away.
"Great!", the weird shouted so loud that it even startled him. Shoving the card into his coat pocket, the eldritch began to wrestle with his inner demons as he turned to the direction where he came. Abandoning his hope of slumbering quietly within one of Radasanth's famous brothels, the eldritch mumbled," Just great.".
~*~