Avery lounges nearby, listening to the conversation between Jonas and White Moon with a slight, wry smile upon his face.  The deft application of healing magics has reduced his head injuries to a faint tracery of scarring on the left side of his face, and he appears as ready to go as ever.

He's once again wearing his high-quality Naruni stealth armour, its powered down surface an uninspiring grey colour.  His only weapon currently in evidence -- beyond the ubiquitous vibroknife -- is one of the modern Coalition pistols, looted from a CS infantryman, his heavier weapons currently stored in the small weapons locker in his 'bot.

The Tolkeen regular army Lieutenant keeps an eye and ear selectively on the various mercs in the room, assessing the talent that has offered its services in defense against the Coalition.  Who would prove to be useful and who would just be used up...well, that is yet to be seen.

Reginald grew tired of the relatively quiet room, "Ok, so who here knows what in the fuck is going on? Why are we just sitting here? I was told I was gonna get to kill some fucking CS troops."

Reginald stands, "My name is Reginald Warburton, and I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you all, but it ain't. 'Specially you pretty boy," he says directed at Avery, "Left side of your head is pretty messed up, got a story for that scrath?" Reginalds disfigured face is attempting to curl into a smile, and he must be joking about Averys face...the left side of his face looked a few months decomposed.

The Madness -- the only name he seems to have given -- also emerges from Tolkeen's fine medical facilities generally in good health, though his clothes are a little worse for wear, soot covered and burn-marked; not that he was too stylish a dresser before. He puts his finger through a burn mark in his toque and snears, finding Jonas and White Moon's table for no particular reason.

"Weapons, armor, explosives; covered. My head though! What's to come of that? 70% of my heat, gone! Getting frosty already." he rambles.

As he slides his tray of Tolkeen's dilectables onto the table one can see that he has taken special precaution to ensure none of his food touches the rest of it, with equal-sized square portions of mashed potatoes, corn, carrots, peas, gravy and meat, arranged like that, from light to dark, with little half inch gaps between them. Before beginning he mutters under his breath.

_{"We'll weather the winter won't we father? Let her do her gathering for us till she falls and we make for the woods, fat enough for hibernation. For now though, sustainenceses..."}

Whether this is some prayer or conversation with some invisible third party it's hard to tell. But Madness seems satisfied and begins to consume his food-squares.

Takamatsu lay sprawled out on a bunk staring up at the celing with a dreamy, drug induced look of euphoria on his face. His eye's covered in a pair of reflective shades he seems rather unimpressive for a juicer, until you realize that even in this relaxed state he's completely silent. He is wearing his light spiked samurai style body armor, except for the helmet which is lying beside his bunk next to his weapons. A hefty rifle & pistol lay beside a well maintained vibro-katana and a strange vibro-nail glove. All of which are neatly and meticulously arranged atop his pack where the rest of his gear is stowed.

Avery just shakes his head at the ramblings of the Madness, then raises an eyebrow at Reginald Warburton's query.  Like he's one to talk about appearances.

"This?  Oh, I just got it killing some fucking CS troops," he replies mildly, not bothering to change his lounging position.  "I was part of the extraction team that brought in our VIPOWs earlier,"" he continues, "and Boadie unfortunately drew too much fire in the exchange.  Her portside coolant feed blew out, and I didn't have my helmet on at the time."  He shrugs.

"Had to punch out before she went critical.  Going to miss the old girl, but I have to say," the robot jock adds with a tight grin, "they're not going to find Brun such easy meat."  Clearly, he too relishes the thought of getting back into the field.

The phrase 'easy meat' seemed to stir the long-limbed Lanotaur from the food, which it seemed to abandon with great relish. Had he time to hunt, Tyirrak would only eat what he himself killed.

"Easy meat isnt worth hunting anyhow. Why hunt if there is no challenge?" he spoke, a sibilant rasp, like someone sheathing a metal file in silk.

He eyed the cocky pilot a bit longer, glancing over once at the strange crazy that muttered to himself.

Humans... so much need for technology. Were it not 'war', he would forgo the entire thing himself and hunt as nature intended. But again... war bred necessity, and necessity bred... phaw... necessity bred a lot of things. She was a easy bitch and wanton with her favor.

OOC: Should mention he has a horror factor (of 12)... but then so do a few others in the room I'm pretty sure.

Avery shrugs.  "If the CS was sport hunting, I'd agree with you. Sergeant.  Since they're just brain-dead bastards who'd rather destroy anything they don't like or understand rather than take the time and effort, I don't think that really applies here, do you?" he inquries mildly.  The first time he'd encountered the scaly deeb's ugly face it had taken him aback a moment, but now the man was no uglier than any of the others he'd been in service with since accepting a commission in Tolkeen's army.

Sinyard and the other two fresh patients from the medical station had left against thje station's will. They were told to remain, for their wounds to be properly cured and cleaned.

They refused on account of wanting to return to combat hastily. The three of them left to where they had been told the new recruits were gathering.

Sinyard simply ate. He was hungry - and these "army noodles with ketchup" was as good as it was gonna get. He kept quiet, and just ate; taking a seat next to the Madness.

Tyirrik's smile was faintly sinister.

"Sport hunting? Ha HA.... It was a rhetorical question. For my people, hunting is life. And lifes not worth living without a few challenges. Were this not war... " he smiled once more as he trailed off, his fangs glinting in his mouth. His race had quite the reputation as hunters.




OOC: Horror factor isnt necessarily ugly. Sure, he has a PB of only 7... but its also considered just an intimidation factor.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:32, Sun 10 Sept 2006.

OOC I got a HF of 13 so ha ha, but my PB is 7 also...I am a pretty Syvan :)


Reggie shakes his head listening to Avery, "Why in the hell wouldn't you wear your helmet if you were being shot at? That has to be the dumbest shit I ever heard." Reggie shakes his head disdainfully, "The people I am to serve with don't have the good sense to wear a hat in the rain."

Reginald then turns his attention to Tyirrak, "Hunting...waste of time if you ask me, why should I hunt when I can make others do it for me?"

Tak rolls on his side and looks at the others, his heavily accented voice clearly heard without need to raise it.

"While I may not share Reginald's volume of discontent, I do share his opinion. I've only got so much calm time in me and its running kinda thin. When are we gonna be able to get out and cause some violence."

The Madness nods in agreement, not quite looking at anyone in particular. "Challenges; yes, war too is a challenge. War too a hunt -- where a hunt is just an aim to kill within the given environment. The lanotaur, methinks, is right at home...only his food is flavourless, to his pallette and his pride."

The Mad German continues to munch his caffeteria food and is soon finished; always good to keep the pangs of hunger, it keeps one grounded.

The 9 foot Brodkil stands tall to the right of Reginald the Syvvan.

"These meatbags will learn what is important in warfare soon I think, huh Reggie?"

Avery's eyebrows go up again.  Clearly, some people just don't pay attention.

"The helmet wasn't necessary because I was wearing an X-500 Forager robot at the time," he replies dryly, "and the helmet gets in the way of the datafeeds.  Some of us need to compensate for being made of only mortal blood and bone."

This crew is certainly eager enough to take the fight to the enemy, but they're getting restless.

"In any case, we'll have our opportunity to give the Coalition a good kick in the ass soon enough," he continues.  "Enjoy the quiet while it's here."

"Easy for you to say."

Takamatsu rolls off the bed, backflips onto the headboard takes two quick steps before jumping forward flipping in mid-air, landing on the back of an empty chair  at Tyirrak & The Madness' table where he holds his balance perfectly without even wobbling the chair and leans down to take the food square the Lanotaur had discarded in disgust all without making hardly a sound.


"I on the other hand have had quite enough rest and relaxation."

The Lanotaurs head twisted to look at the german crazy, studying him with that scarlet-eyed gaze.

"Yet the enemy would deprive me of those who might be worthy prey... and so they are worth killing. Few amongst them are worthy of hunting."

He glanced at Takamatsu with a gaze that suggested he had supressed the urge to swat the juicer clean off the table. They were impressive if one took into consideration how far they had come from their human limitations... but outside of that context they too were fragile. But they were so prone to showing off.

With his eyes shooting back and forth between the lanotaur and the juicer he lowers his brow and speaks in whispered tones. "If it's prey you want, I say you take it before they take it from you..." he says suggestively, "Shhhhhhh, I'll not say a word..."

He grins to himself, extremely satisfied.

The beast known as Jinn Rauw stands at the back of the room quietly. His large Gargoyle-like wings folded over his chest like a cape. He simply stands watching and listening for now. He has been paying special attention to the Lanotaur Hunter.

A shorter, fatter brodkil warrior toys around with the brand new bionic arm he just acquired. There is still blood, and wet stuff leaking from point where limb meets body - but such is almost always normal - unless one visits the top of the line clinics. These local chop shops are all a brodkil needs...

He pokes and pulls at the flesh while the others talk.

Smiling a wicked smile at Klowkuh, Reggie nods, "Soon indeed my friend, soon indeed. See, what they don't know Klowkuh, is that people like me and you, we have been smashing heads for money since most of 'em were sucklin' their moms tit. Now, no offense meant mind you, I am sure you are the best Tolkeen could afford." Turning quickly back to Avery, "My friend I would think, by the looks of things the helmet was necessary." Again he grins that horrible looking grin.

A television station in the barracks is playing the Tolkeen sation. As of late it has become a war billboard, displaying updates on the war; including city battles, and their change of control, casualty reports, and known casualties; along with Coalition updates, in their affairs around their borders.

The updates are displayed in several languages as words, and read aloud in English by a female news reporter.

"Just hours ago history was written people of Tolkeen. I am pleased to announce that Tolkeen's dragons engaged a Coalition Air Transport this morning and brought it to the ground. King Creed had been made aware that Emperor Karl Prosek of The Coalition States was likely on board this transport. Tolkeen dispatched a company from Battle Group Odin. The men and women of 3rd Platoon, Pluto Company, outstandingly battled against the odds, and engaged the Coalition full force as the survivors from the crash fought for their lives to defend their leader. Our men secured the Emperor and brought him home. Emperor Karl Prosek is a prisoner of Tolkeen! This is a good day of the war, this could change everything..."

Text scrolls by in several languages:
Hillcrest was lost to the Coalition today. Only 4 survivors... including Captain Maddox


Faust and Hudak were re-captured recently. No word on when reinforcements will be sent.

"Remember, we must stop the Coalition from advancing. Our offensive, which will annihilate their invasion force will come. We must stop them from pushing farther into our land."

A new agreement was made today with Chief Koraga of the Taijuk Simvan tribe. He has pledged full military support to the Kingdom of Tolkeen.

Nearly sixteen thousand mercenaries have been recruited in the last two weeks. They now fight to defend Tolkeen's borders.

"Tolkeen soldiers have been using guerilla tactics effectively to destroy Coalition advancements. Remember to use sabotauge, hit/run tactics, and divide and conquer. Incapacitate the enemy using spells such as Carpet of Adhesion and Magic Net. Capture the enemy, by using sleep and confusing magics. Invoke retreat and then block it off.

Tolkeen offers spells to intelligent students. Magic Net, Carpet of Adhesion, Levitate, Force Bonds, Circle of Flame, Cloud of smoke, Blinding Flash, Charm, Befuddle, Fear, Domination, Trance, Compulsion, Paralysis, Agony, Sickness, Blind, Mute, Wisps of Confusion, Aura of Death, Aura of Doom, Disharmonize, Mental Shock, Speed of The Snail, Sustain.

Tolkeen has come out victorious at The Battle of Morning Glory, and Sectorville. They used smaller units.

The Pecos Empire has successfully conducted dozens of raids on Lonestar and El Dorado Coalition Outposts. Allegedly the Leaders have united under a mercenary company known as the Shadow Warriors. All diplomatic attempts with the Pecos have been unsuccessfull.


"Please do not fear or hesitate to fight alongside underwordly creatures, or the animated corpses of dark mages. These are necessary to defend our home. The Coalition has comitted genocide agaist us, under the Command of General Micander Drogue, and must be stopped. This message will now repeat.

At the mention of otherwordly creatures Reginald stands and straightens, "That's right bitches, I will be on my best behavior...most of the time." Reginald stands and walks the perimeter of the room in silence before returning to his seat, "So any of you prissy pant boys got some talents or what?"

"Nope. No talents at all," Speaks the ninja between bites as he continues to crouch on the back of the chair.

Tyirrak wasnt even looking at the television screen as the rotting corpseman bragged. So his bragging made little sense in context.

He stayed where he was, silent and waiting, his eyes unblinking long enough that anybody watching felt their eyes water as if in sympathy...

Sitting at a table eating and watching the television attentively, Magnet Man wears a black sweater and dark green cargo khakis. He has remained quiet so far because he was waiting for news from the front.

"It would be nice to know evryone's abilities before being teamed up with these apparent heroes of Tolkeen." Still looking at the television as it repeats the news that Pluto Company captured Emperor Prosek.

"Well, for those of us whose talents aren't as obvious," looking at the otherworldly creatures, "Aside from being a member of the Tolkeen army, I can control and create magnetic fields and force fields." He says to break the silence after Reginald's request.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:08, Tue 12 Sept 2006.