The Grey Ghosts

Griffinkeeper wrote:

Reyu wrote:Is this based on anything I should be aware of? (is it a book, a short story...) Knowledge is power right?

I am interested. I will give my character some thought.

This is not a fan-fiction for any book or story. Instead, it borrows from the concept behind "The A-Team" an action television show made in the 80's. I recommend watching episodes of "Burn Notice" and "The A-Team" both of which are available for free at hulu.

Damar: I'm not sure Specter would trust a vampire. Because Vampires do things to humans like they did to Tristian, it would be very difficult, if not impossible to let one wander around. I'd like you to try writing with a different character instead. Trust is the most critical area here.

Conrad: I've never ever worked with a Centaur character before, I'm interested in seeing how it works out.

Lizzifer: Specter is very progressive, in the sense that he doesn't care if a character is a woman or not. Indeed, he would be very willing to hire women, simply because they can go places, find things, and do things that our male characters simply can not do.

Pieman: Very glad to work with you again, your character will probably be one of the first that Specter finds.

I'm still waiting for more profiles.

I will re-write later because even though I like the thought of being a feminist in this thing, but after I think about it I wouldn't be that fun to be a die hard one. So I'll edit mine a wee bit.

Name: Udre (Oo-drey) Thunderhammer
Race: Dwarf
Class: Rogue/Warrior
Occupation: retired Imperial Thunderer turned blacksmith
Age: 160
Height: 4'6"
Weight: 200 lbs.
Gear:
-- "Thundermaul" Rifle--uses alchemical propellant and forged iron slugs.
--Shortsword
--Studded Leather Armor
--Locksmith's Kit (thieves' tools)
History: Udre Thunderhammer was born to a wealthy locksmith and his wife, a blacksmith of no small repute in the time of the empire. Even as a child, Udre showed great promise as a locksmith, having both the clever mind and the nimble fingers required to be successful as one. Interestingly enough, he also showed talent for the ancestral art of blacksmithing, though his pieces more often that not turned out more ornamental than practical. This brought him some measure of renown from the nobility, especially those that fancied themselves warriors and wanted to appear as such.

When the Empire called for able-bodied warriors, Udre was among the first to enlist. However, his enthusiasm was quickly dispelled by the racism he found there. He was given the worst equipment, the least training, and was thrown into a "mixed" unit of demi-humans ranging from elves to half orcs. This mishmash of misfits was known as the "Demis," and was thrown headfirst into the battles with the highest mortality rates. As such, no officer ever lasted long, and the numbers were constantly in need of replenishing after each skirmish. Udre quickly moved up through the ranks due to the fact that he survived each battle, any friends he made falling quickly in the coming days. During the Battle of Emaglen Pass, the Demis were ambushed as they were marching home, being immediately overrun by their enemies and forced into a situation of desperation within mere moments of the initial strike. Had Spectre Grey's unit not stumbled across them on their own march home, battle weary and road-worn themselves, the Demis surely would have been dead to a man. However, the two units fought side by side to achieve victory for the day, and though no medals were awarded to any of the Demis, none of the survivors would forget Grey's willingness to help them in an Empire that had all but sacrificed them to their enemies.

After retiring, Udre returned home to work in his father's shop and make his own way in the world--he resides there now.

Any progress, Tiff and Em?

I will never write like that. It was the beginning of class, and my teacher just walked in, so I was trying to post quickly before he noticed that I was on the computer and got detention. The only time my writing will be anything like that is when I'm at school.

I'll be writing the first post later today. Last call for profiles!

AHHHH!! WAIT FOR ME!!!!

Oh and a quick question, the profile down below will be my "real" character, but are we aloud to ever play as the antagonist. For example would I be aloud to sometime create and play a Rouge Vampire who is attacking and turning a town. So the Mercs get hired to go kill him... blah blah blah.

Name: Korah

Age: Unkown (but he looks old... very old...)

Gender: Male

Occupation: Actual Occupation us unknown, but he will join the Mercs and usually passes himself off as a healer

Species: Human/Elf

Appearance: http://blogs.pioneerlocal.com/entertain ... eeker4.jpg

Personality: He is a quirky strange old man, who is constantly smiling and laughing. He is always in a good mood, and refuses not to be, which others can find quite annoying. He usually is stumbling around like an old beggar, which causes most people to look him over or ignore him. But he is actually quite powerful, and when danger comes he will grow serious and relentlessly attack with little mercy.

Skills: He is highly skilled in healing, as well as magic. He also is profecient with his oak staff, and will not hesitate to give someone a good wacking if they need it. Most of the time he stumbles and moves around like an old man, which is actually an act, because he is quite quick and agile when the need arises.

Weapons: Korah uses Magic as his main weapon. Now magic is very complicated and deep ritual, that takes many a lifetime to master. Most of Korah's magic is aided by the old scrolls he carries. The scrolls are priceless and many are filled with ancient symbols and signs that allow him to acess magic without having to draw them into the ground or carve them into a rock. In battle he will often unfurl a scroll (Think about a foot long) while reading out the magical words or enchantments to unleash the spell. He also carries a wooden staff that helps him to augment his powers. His magic can also aid in healing, and he wears a small focusing crystal around his neck that is specifically designed to aid him in the healing arts. Still Magic is hard to use, so many, more powerful spells, are not used by Korah. He does however possess a deep knoweldge of the arcane, and if needed could help cast some very old spells...

Bio: Korah is an ancient man, older then most people would even care to imagine. He has been around for years, and used to serve in the Empire before things came crumbling down. He has since then been somewhat of a nomad, traveling from place to place. Reading the clouds and the stars, seeking where to go next... much of his past is unknown. However... he feels drawn to the Mercs, as they are what the stars have been talking about latley...

Tools: He usually carries around with him a leather bag, filled with herbs and his old scrolls.

Hope this is cool. If there are any questions/concerns just let me know

Show time!

****

When people want to hire mercenaries, they have many places to choose from and depending on where they look determines the number and quality of the mercenaries. If they just need someone to stand in one spot for hours, then they can probably just go to any bar. If they want someone to be alert for hours at a time, they usually are better off going to an agent. If they want a gang of cheap mercenaries, they just need to find out the place, (usually a bar) where they hang out. If they want to find the best mercenaries though, they need look no further than the Domino Club. Mercenary leaders hang out there because the best contracts walk through that door.

Specter Grey was one of these mercenary leaders, in charge of a group known as the Grey Ghosts. He dressed simply, with only a grey cloak to indicate who he was. This simple style was in deep contrast to other members of the club. Some members had bright colors, or uniforms with gold medals on them. Specter, on the other hand, was quiet and watchful.

Specter had only just ordered his first drink, when someone came up to him.

"Mr. Grey?" Specter looked up, to find a young woman in front of him. She smiled and extended her hand.

"My name is Natalie Stone. I've been looking forward to meeting you." Specter smiled broadly, even as he took quietly took his knife out. It was never a good idea to let your guard down around strangers, even if they were potential clients.

"Why's that?" Specter asked.

"My father has spoken about you on many occasions as being a brave warrior and he sends me to ask your help on a very delicate matter." The waiter returned, setting a glass of apple juice in front of Specter.

"About three months ago, my sister Olivia was betrothed to be married to a man by the name of Haines. He owns a ranch in the county of Jandt. She moved in with him shortly after. We received letters from her regularly at first, but we have not heard from her for two weeks now and we're beginning to worry that something has happened to her." Specter sighed.

"Have you tried dealing with local authorities or talking with Haines directly?" Specter asked.

"My father did, but when he went to his house, he was attacked by several of Haines cowboys. That is why he is not here in person."

"So what would you like me to do?"

"We would like you to talk to Haines for us and have him return my sister to my father's house, by force if necessary. We're willing to pay two thousand crowns for your trouble."

"I'll look into it. Which inn are you staying at?"

"The Green Dragon."

"We'll contact you there in two days to let you know if we'll do it."

"Thank you Mr. Grey," Natalie said before leaving.

Specter finished his apple juice, before fiddling with one of his buttons. It had cost him a very large amount of money, but he had managed to turn a special coin into a communication device. He took out the coin and then whispered a word. The coin turned blue, as did every other coin that belonged to his mercs. The message was simple: "Meet at the warehouse, we've got a job."

While the Domino Club might be the best place for the mercenary leaders to get together, it did not suit Orelaus's tastes. For one, it was too small for him. And for another, there were not nearly enough waitresses. So he was in the Red Brigadier, enjoying himself to a pint of ale and the company of one of the working girls.

"So Orelaus," she said as she clung to him as best she could, "What is it that you do?"

"Mercenary work," he replied, taking another chug of drink.

"I'll bet that's dangerous," she replied, trying her best to sound seductive. It wasn't very good, Orelaus had heard much better. But what was to be expected in a backwater place like this?

"Very dangerous," he said. "Listen, why don't you and I..."

There was a small tone from the pouch around Orelaus's waist. He paused, then sighed and reached into it. The coin inside was glowing blue.

"Meet at the warehouse, we've got a job," Specter Gray said through the coin.

Orelaus mumbled as he put the coin away. "Listen, I've got to go now. Important mercenary stuff."

"But you'll be back, won't you?" The girl sounded honestly anxious. The shortage of handsome men must be bad if she was trying to romance someone who was only half man.

"Yeah," Orelaus said.

"When?"

"Don't know," he said as he walked to the door, his hooves making quite a ruckus on the wood floor.

<I was trying to give Orelaus a bit of the personality of Face, from the A-Team, what with him being a ladies man and all.>

Max Blue~~

Max walked along the ragtag of the beaten up street, her eyes glazed the mercenaries who might offer her some gosh darn work for once. A half cloak was hung loosely around her shoulders and waved back and forth as she walked forward. She found what she was looking for, she had traveled long from Octavia to get there.

"The domino club" she whispered incoherently to others swarming around her and she walked in with her chin high. Finally Max was here in the Club she knew she would receive work from. She slipped off her cloak for it as perfectly steamy in here and was automatically mistaken as a waitress by a pair of drunks.

"Preeeeety Gurl!" one slurred in between a sip, "Why don't you take an early break and have some fun with uss"

I stared at him with an empty stare and walked on, I soon heard him shouting after me.

"This place haz such bad service and only wenches who work here!" I blew him off with a graceful finger and he collapsed into an automatic coma when he stood up with his drunkenness in all. I laughed and sat down at the empty seat at the bar.

"Your the second most peaceful here!" The waiter exclaimed wearily, I smiled.

"who is the first?" I laughed.

"That grim fellow over there" and he pointed to a figure with a grey cloak.

I silently moved over there and I introduced myself to the brown haired guy. He was quiet and obviously thoughtful.

"Need any work?" I smiled at hopefully my future employer.

*I dont know how to bring myself in... And I'm going to assume he is not part of the Grey Ghosts at this moment.*

Okay, I am also going to assume that my character is already in Specter’s group.

Korah – Merc

Korah was sitting outside the domino club; his old robes, more rags then anything else were wrapped tightly around his old and worn body. He sat close to the buildings door, a small bowl sitting in front of him with a few coins already inside. On the ground next to him was an oak staff and a small bag that looked older then he did. Picking up the bowl as people passed by Korah would let out a large hacking cough as he tried to beg for whatever coins he could. A few people would throw some his way, most just tried to avoid him, ignoring him and pretending like he wasn’t there.

Letting out another good cough he held out his bowl as the door to the Domino Club swung open and a small man came tottering out, obviously drunk. He was a chubby man, dressed in fine robes, and wearing a nice gold chain around his neck. The top of his head showed he was mostly bald besides a few wisps of hair that stuck out the side of the hat he wore. The hat showed he was someone who had money, sown with delicate gold threat and imbedded with little jewels that glittered in the waning sunlight. He had obviously come to the Domino Club looking for some Mercenaries to hire, but by the looks of him he had dipped his hand into the ale as well. He stumbled over towards Korah, giving the old man a once over as he fumbled with his velvet lined pockets, looking for a small coin to throw at the beggar.

The small man’s chubby fingers finally found some coins, and with some trouble he managed to yank them out of his pocket and tossed them towards the bowl. They missed, falling and clanking to the ground as Korah hurried forward and gathered them up before sitting back down on the ground. Smiling at his drunken patron he called, “Thank you kind sir, you are truly a beacon of hope and light in this dark world.”

“Yes, yes, my pleasure,” The drunken man said as he dismissed the complement with a wave of his hand and continued his way down the street. He didn’t make it far; as he turned his back on Korah the old man began to wave his hand, drawing intricate patterns with his fingers as he whispered words that few would even understand.

The poor drunken man failed to see the large stone that suddenly seemed to rise out of the ground in front of him. Tripping on it, he went sprawling as Korah hopped to his feet and shuffled over to help the poor drunken fellow. A few people had noticed the strange mishap, and moved to help but Korah waved them away shouting, “Move aside, I can help, I am a healer!” As he got closer Korah let out a grunt of despair as he realized the chubby fellow had hit his head when he had fallen and now wasn’t moving. “Oh dear,” he sighed as he reached down to check the man’s pulse, “Have I killed another one?” With relief he saw the man was still breathing and began to hurriedly began to pretend like he was checking the man’s head wound as he reached into the mans pockets as he relieved him of the money he was carrying.

A slight buzzing in his pocket distracted him, and Korah began to fumble with his robes as he searched for whatever was causing the annoying noise. Finding a coin he yanked it out and saw it was beginning to glow blue, ahhh orders at last. “Meet at the warehouse, we’ve got a job,” a voice softly whispered from the coin as Korah quickly put it back in his pocket.

“Sorry my friend,” he cheerfully whispered to the unconscious man as he dragged his body in the alley way beside the Domino Club, “Looks like I have some business to take care of!” Straitening up he took his oak staff and grabbed his small leather bag, tossing it over his shoulder as he turned and headed off. So the time had finally come. He had only recently joined the Specter Gray Mercenaries. But the stars had been talking about them a lot, even seeming to think they were going to do something, something big in the future to come. So he had tracked them down and offered his services as a healer, something the group didn’t have yet, but desperately needed. This would be his first mission with them however, and he could already feel the slight buzz of adrenaline moving through his veins.

“My, my,” he whispered with some amusement, “Its been a while since I have felt this excited, I can only begin to imagine what this mission will be about…”

Dale Cardoner

"Best if you stop soon, friend," the bartender said, "Don't want a vet getting drunk in my bar, no offence."

Dale glared across the counter at him, "I can hold my drink better than most, and I'll say when I've had enough." He held up a warning finger, stopping the portly man from speaking further, "I've had a bad enough day, and I'm sure you'd prefer a drunk veteran than an angry, sober one."

The barman sighed, and poured another tankard for Dale from the barrels behind him, "Well, I suppose you're good business, Cardoner."

"Damn right." muttered Dale, sipping at the frothy mug.

A soft sound suddenly began in one of his belt pouches, similar to the sound of a coin singing slightly as it spins on a table top. Dale put the tankard down, surprised. The barman looked at him skeptically, "What's that?"

Dale dug into his pouch and retrieved a now blue coin.

Just in case you ever need work. Specter Grey had told him, Don't lose it. The same voice now spoke through the coin, "Meet at the warehouse, we've got a job."

"Work." he muttered. It would be the first time he'd answer the summons, and Specter Grey would probably be surprised to see him.

But no one wanted to hire a drunk, no matter if Dale had one of the best information networks in the city. He'd been out of work for almost two weeks now, and the money from his last job was starting to wear thin.

The barman snorted, "Careful, I might mistake you for a proper citizen." Dale glared at him again, and then stood up, checking his broadsword was still in place. Then he stood up, starting down to the Industrial District. The warehouses lay on the outskirts of that area, and while he didn't know for sure which one belonged to Specter, he had a fair idea of its approximate location.