Story

Mankind was foolish to think they were alone. As it turns out 2012 was the end of the world, as we know it. As the asteroid broke through the atmosphere, the outer rock peeled apart, and revealed that alien transmission device. This acted as a homing beacon, drawing the foul predators to Earth. They attacked in massive numbers, and even though many humans were able to rediscover the ancient magic of their bloodlines, the blessings of technology were unable to prevent the intruders from reaching the core of the planet. As they detonated their massive fusion device, designed to shatter the planet, the most powerful of the human spell casters banded together and cast a massive web. This web locked the pieces of the earth in limbo, preventing them from flying apart. It also held in check the fusion detonation at the core, and managed to propel over 2/3 of the invaders out of the solar system. This constant source of radiation has caused massive variants of genetics, and has allowed select individuals to evolve to a greater human form. But earth remained a shattered husk, and the spell casters had exhausted their life-force, leaving the world without the knowledge to repair itself. There is still a large population of invaders on the surface and in orbit, attempting to regain control of the situation. The planet Mars has a steady defense network, and is attempting to aid Earth in any way it can. This leaves five hundred million people scattered over dozens of pieces of the earth's crust, all of which are surrounding a small star. The attackers are returning in system, and the spell that has fueled the containment of Earth and the nuclear detonation is running out. Mars does not have the resources to help, and nobody knows what to do. Magic has begun to return to mankind, in ever so tiny increments, and people are suspicious of spell weavers. The variances in biology are feared, especially for their physic nature. Into this catastrophe I throw you, and pray to god that it will be enough . . .

Athen awoke in a desecrated forest, trees knocked over for miles around. Off in the distance, he caught sight of the lights of one of the few remaining cities. Not remembering anything, and suffering from a massive headache, he trudged off under the twisting brown and blue sky of the tortured planet.

As Athen neared the end of the forest he began to hear a commotion. The voices of men, at least six or seven of them, yelling. Eventually the shape of a mob, encircled around a long tall figure, striking out one after the other in quick succession comes into view. It seems that even with so many men trying to hit this figure all at once, none of the blows were landing.

Athen, lacking any kind of foreknowledge and being of a good nature, charges into the crowd of people, and begins to bash faces. He draws the attention of the crowd, and then goes down beneath their mob.

After fully coming to realize that this unknown rescuer had not only arrived, but fallen, Stilts goes into action. He pulles his form to it's feet, and pushes his way into the crowd. Snaking fluently through the bodies, pushing them away from this new individual. Once Athen had come into view, Stilts dis-plumed him from mob he had thrown himself into. His grasp on Athen firm, Stilts then leapt down the small hill the forest was set upon, and rushed into the dark crevices of the city.

Drakar was walking through the city, when he heard a commotion. He heard what appeared to be fighting, and in these times, fighting was not a thing to be taken lightly. Drakar then began heading toward the sound which had now ceased, and was ran into an incredibly tall character carrying an injured figure.

"Where is the fighting, I would like to help." utters Drakar with a smirk as the tall man continued running.

Nami follows at a distance.

A sudden collision shook stilts, but not enough to make him falter. However in the collision Contact was made. Not direct contact, but contact enough to bring flashes of this person into his mind. He knew his intentions were honest, and as such stopped to further investigate this individual. "The fighting is over, were running now," He glanced at the individual cast over his shoulder. "and I have to get him some help."

"You go get him some help, I will hold them off. Watch out for the guy following behind me, if in fact he is a guy." replied Drakar as he drew his scimitars. He then began running towards the assaliants, and as he did so what appears to be clones of him start popping up around him and runing in stride.

He lowered his head for a slight second, breaking a slight smirk, then looked back up to the man lay over his shoulder. His line of sight kept it's upward motion, until his eyes met the top of the roof of a nearby building. He pushed himself from the ground, and came to rest for a short period on a smell ledge. Then he leapt toward an overhang, which he, with his open hand grasped. He pulled himself a way up before twisting his body in an inhuman manner and making a final jump to the roof above. On this roof an evanescent green plant was growing. He lay the man from his shoulder to the rooftop, and then picked the flower. He crumbled it up into a small ball over Athens body, letting the juices that began flowing from the flower pour over him. "He should be up any second now."

Nami stands near the building.

Athen snaps to, and jumps to his feet. he grimaces in pain. His body is battered and beaten. Blood flows out of his wounds, and he looks pale. He glances over at his savior and asks " What are you doing here?"

His wounds seem to be troubling him less, even though his condition appears to worsen.

As the bandits witness the army of men running towards them, the begin to falter. But one man braver than the rest swings his sword at the group of men and as he does so the blade goes right through the figure, and nothing happens. Then the figures blinked in and out, and in front of them was only one man.

"Well, that didn't work as well as it could have. So, lets get this fight started" Drakar said with a smile as the bandits started moving towards him.

He looked Athen up and down briefly, taking note of his wounds. "I could ask you the same thing, or I could ask you why you jumped into that group of men. I'm a local here, I've dealt with those men all my life." He turned and look over the edge of the building to see what was now a sizable group of men running towards the bandits from earlier. "Who are you, where did you come from?"

Athen bends over clutching his head. Obviously in pain and ignoring his wounds.

"I dont know!"

He lets out a yell and starts firing (with his handgun) at the mob approaching the mercenary.

As shot started coming from behind him, Drakar started slowing down, for shots were coming from in front of him. Drakar suddnely dissapeard, then reapeared amist the middle of the people. He began cutting at the 3 men with guns and they paniced as gashes appeared in them, even though there was no pain. One of the swordsman turned around to dispatch what appeared to be Drakar, and as he did the real Drakar sliced at his throat, severing his head in a single swipe.

Nami, having no investment in the thugs, waits for the fighting to end.

Some of the thugs, seeing Nami in the background, open fire on him.

They shout "another biofreak!" and "DIE".

Nami charges the individuals from which he is receiving fire, ramming them.

Stilts lowered his head, watching as the men who had beat him and tortured him, the men who forced him to hide in sewers for days at a time, the men who had tried to kill him on multiple occasions, were met with blade and bullet. He watched as the only people he had ever known began to die. He turned away from the slaughter, looking out across the wasteland that is earth, The place where he grew up. With a sudden bolt Stilts ripped himself around and off the roof, pushing himself into the crowd of people, doing his best to avoid the shots and blades flying all around as he lashed out at the man nearest him, trying to incapacitate, not kill him.

As the last of the mob dies, a crowd of fleeing people forms, rushing away from the site of the battle. Loud sirens can be heard, coming closer, over the sound of panicked feet.

Athen collapses, clutching his head, and falls off of the building. he lands with a loud thud on the concrete below. he picks himself up and walks over to the group of outcasts on a clearly broken leg, commenting on the sound of the sirens.

Nami attempts to escape, going to the alley between two building. At that point, he climbs between the buildings as he would up a chimney, as aided by his significant stature.

Drakar then begins heading towards the arena, where his sword-fighting team meets to train. (The Arena, as they call it used to be an old warehouse, before their team bought it out. They then converted it as a place to train, and then host battles over the internet. Since the game was virtual reality it would seem as if the enemy were acctually in the arena, so they would fight as if in a gladiator ring. After the catastrophe the govermant took over the arena to train people in swordfighting, and now his team trains for self defense instead of a video-game. His team is now a band of mercenary/vigile antes). As he walks off non-chalantly, he hands the tall figure a piece of paper with the address of the training arena, as well as his house's adress.

Athen, falls over, unable to continue to walk due to his leg. He throws his gun down a nearby gutter, and begins to poultice his wounds with ripped shards of his shirt. He looks extremely pale, almost paper white at this point, but the blood flow has slowed to a drizzle.

At this point the Enforcers have started to arrive. Stilts, noticing the sorry state that Ethan is in, picks him up and runs off in the direction of the one place the merchant guilds have no power, the Knifeman Guild Embassy.

Though a "guild" the Knifeman Guild is a more of a monastic order, and their members' excellent knife work has led many to become excellent surgeons.

Stilts eventually reached the black painted building. It appeared to be only a single story tall and one had to descend several steps to reach the heavy hardwood door. Over the doorframe swung a sign depicting two crossed daggers, one dagger was colored red, the other black, like ink.

Stils pushed the door open with a loud creek and a small bell tingled somewhere. Inside was a lobby lit with a handful of candles along the walls, lighting the room just enough to see. A knifeman sat at a large desk against the wall, transcribing a book. Instead of writing with a pen, he had a butterflyknife in his hand and had it moving in a constant and complex flipping motion. He had an ink block and sharpening apparatus at his desk aswell. Whenever the blade began to dull or ran dry of ink, he would slice the blade across the respective tool and proceed to flip his blade across the page. Hundreds of little micro-nicks formed a complex scrawling language that filled the pages.

Without looking up, the knifeman spoke, "How may I be of service?"