Watch the Footage

The woman, Ality, dressed in simple white robes, held her hands in front of her with index fingers and thumbs splayed to create the vague shape of a rectangle.

"Oh?" The man leaned forward from his seat with interest.

Lights shimmered and flowed in the empty space described by her fingers like so much prismatic liquid exuded from her skin. Within moments, the lights resolved themselves into clear images, clearly from a first-person perspective. Then the image began to move and he could see that it was quite clearly a video. Ality's mouth opened languidly even as her eyes glazed over as though hypnotised. From her vocal chords came the whistling of wind and a tired gasping, though her lips did not even quiver. For all intents and purposes, Ality had become a medium of communication, her entire body focused into relaying the audio and visual.

"Come on," came the deep, urgent voice of a man, evidently the source of the gasping.

The visual overlooked a great sprawl of hab-units and structures, almost as ramshackle as a slum if a slum was stretched out over miles and miles. They surrounded the dark azure lake, where vaguely serpentine silhouettes could be seen if one cared to look closely enough. From this height, the buildings looked like little ants making a ragtag colony, all clamouring for the presence of the inky waters.

Then a splintering crash sounded and the agent's perspective snapped around with dizzying speed, accompanied by swearing. The view dipped and rose again as the agent ran forward and leapt off his perch on the roof of the tower. The visual jolted and stopped in mid-air. Slowly, the agent was being pulled back. Oddly enough, there was no sign of struggling from the visual as one might expect from an apprehended agent. The agent now faced an onyx-eyed visage adorned with a wolfish grin.

"I know what you're doing, Mister." The man with soulless eyes smiled directly into the perspective, almost as though he were speaking through the visual to the seated observer. "You won't succeed. I will."

Then the video winked out, leaving behind empty air in its wake. Ality, with a gasping heave, slumped forward, scarlet eyes regaining their focus.

"Dark and empty," the man cursed quietly.

"What was it, lord?" She asked.

"Serpentsdeep. He's there." He closed his eyes for a moment, a vein in his temple throbbing clearly. "Prepare a message."

"Lord?"

"I'm activating Echo."

---

[Transmission start]

"Greetings, Brother/Sister. You do not know who I am, but suffice it be said that I am a high official within the inner ranks of the Brotherhood. You may refer to me to your fellow colleagues as 'Mr. A'.

You are receiving this message by virtue of your expertise in certain areas. Simply put, you are being recruited for certain covert operations which require your specific talents. A logical person would ask, of course, 'What do I stand to gain?'. The answer to that is equally simple. Everything. Wealth, power, fame, what you want, you will receive. Perhaps you require certain, ah, privileges. I would be happy to provide.

Should you choose to accept my offer, proceed to Serpentsdeep, meet at the rendezvous point, which shall be given to you, with your other associates. The mission briefing will commence there. Until then, Echo Team."

[Transmission end]

Okay, so what happens now is that each character will receive the mental communique, where the man speaks to you with only his nose and lips visible Just imagine Mr A. :D:D Then your characters wrap up whatever they've been doing, go to Serpentsdeep, probably by airship or maybe they're there already.

Important things about Serpentsdeep:
-It's an enormous city centred around a big lake. Very big.
-Said lake contains giant snakes, the namesake of the city.
-The city is famous for being a top-quality producer of gems known as ouroboros stones.
-The city is politically neutral and is more of a merchant city.
-Centred around the serpents is a fervent pseudo-religion, which just so happens to be the ruling council of the city.

Any other details about the city you want to add, go ahead. Each succeeding post must take into account the previous post's established details. That rule applies to the entire RP.

Go wild and have fun. Welcome, to Irun RP.


EDIT: Whoever starts with describing the rendezvous point, I have two requirements: the room must have a television screen and there must be a small earbud in front of it.

In order to carry on his journey, Michael walked out of a backwater village in Brotherhood territory. Rumors had led him to believe an infamous smith lived there and so he went to check for any possible information on his sword's origin. He could travel fast if he wanted, and he usually did, but that required empty space if he didn't want to get in trouble, and he tried to avoid it when he could.

Still searching for a big enough clearing, a mental communication burst into his mind. The person talked about glory and privileges... One word stood out in the whole message, however.

"Covert?" Michael said out loud, holding back a chuckle. Did you hear that Mouse? Our skills are required for 'covert operations' he said! He amused himself in his thoughts, eventually reaching a place secluded enough to work for his purposes.

"Well, then!" Michael called alone. "Serpentsdeep, uh? Not a place I've been to before, worse comes to worst it's one place I can check as visited. Let's go Mouse. Let's see what this 'covert' deal is all about." His Animus replied, feeling dramatic, rather than practical, at the mood he drew himself up from the ground in a fog of ice crystals. Lifting Michael up as he rose himself from the ground.

"Yep! Very covert and nondescript, this entrance!" Michael laughed as the Dragon drew itself up. As an Animus he could have just appeared, from a translucent visage into a tangible shape, already fully there if he wanted to and, in fact, that was usually how the Ice Animus usually choose to manifest. But not this day, his playful mood demanded that he acted as much over the top as he could. Considering his size, tall as a three story tower, that meant some really amazing sights of ice shapes and a general drop in temperature for a couple of kilometers around him. It was probably a good thing that Michael never summoned Mouse in populated areas.

The pair took flight, towards Serpentsdeep. Uneventful as most of these flights usually were, Michael landed two hours of walk away from the city. It wouldn't cause a good impression if he were to arrive in a commotion with what might just be the biggest Animus he ever had the chance to know about. This time, Mouse disappeared in a practical manner and he set off to find the city and get himself settled.

Well, guess we can be slightly covert if we need to. He mused as he walked.

-----
OOC: Someone might have seen the Dragon land and noticed me arriving or something like that, in case you want to interact with me on the way to the city or in there. I'm proud of myself, I didn't make a brand new Ice Skating Field out of the lake in the town. Yet, anyway.
Also I'm not really all that good in a sense of scale, so if you think "three story tower" is too big, let me know and I'll change it.

The door lead into a room slightly more cool than the outside, with tables arranged to form a small office for three. Jaxon entered and saluted. The man at the desk looked up at him.
"Sergeant?"
"What is it, Jaxon?"
"I'm turning in my resignation. Here are all the appropriate papers, all filled out." He handed him the set of forms.
"Hm. Why're you resigning, though? You're a good medic, and it's only been what, 6 months? Can't take the pressure or something?"
"No sir. To be honest, I received this transmission by a high ranking official, named 'Mr. A'. Told me and supposedly a few other people around the Brotherhood to meet in Serpentsdeep."
"Serpentsdeep? That bigass-place just a few dozen miles off of here? That place ain't in any faction's territory, who knows what might happen there. Well, take care." The officer went back to what he was doing. "Oh right, your pay should be wired to you 'bout two or three days from now."
"Sir, before I leave, could I request one thing?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"Could I get as much informaton about Serpentsdeep I'm allowed to receive as possible?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Scene: Brotherhood Military Briefing Room 3
Time: Dusk

The old film projector shone light through the much newer translucent plastic, onto a screen at the back. The picture depicted a greyscale picture of Serpentsdeep, topdown.

"Well, common knowledge first, Serpentsdeep is politically neutral and is more of a merchant city than well, anything else. I'm sure you know that the city is famous for producing top-quality ouroboros stones." The film reel clicked to a greyscale picture of an exceptional-looking ouroboros stone. "The city is one of the largest ones that aren't in any faction, centred around this huge lake, as in 'few hundred square miles' type of huge." The film reel clicked back to the topdown picture of Serpentsdeep.

"Lake contains giant watersnakes, wouldn't you believe it. Hugeass watersnakes. Was why the city was named Serptentsdeep in the first place." The reel clicked to the lake, with large shadows depicted beneath it. "There's this religion or somesuch around the snakes, which just so happens to be this city's ruling council."

"Since they're a merchant city, they don't exactly have a military, however, they do hire merceneries should they get attacked. Possible merceneries of note include this guy Algar and his henchman Gules." The reel clicked to an image of the pair.
"They're both real damn good in a fight, part of the reason why they're the first guys the city turns to when they need help. The other part is because Algar's real damn good at tactical planning as well, so with a few men, they can do just about anything."

"Their city, as I said, is a Theocracy, where 'the serpents are recognised as the head of the state'." The reel clicked to an image of a man wearing a white robe with gold trim. "This man is Leland LeDore. He's what you could call the head of council. Confidence artist, yet a major religious figure; this guy. Might want to get on his good side and all that."

"Other than that, here's a map showing where in the city you can get medical supplies should you need them, and here's one detailing specific instructions to your rendezvous point. Good luck with whatever you're called to do there, Jaxon."

"Thanks for doing this for me, sir."
"No problem. It's my free time anyway. Consider that favour I owed you repaid."
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Scene: Airship Port
Time: Near midnight

Jaxon rechecked his suitcase and bag for the fifth time. "Let's see now, wallet, first aid kit, surgery tools, chems, meds, empty syringes, syringe gun, maps on clipboard, toolbox, sets of clothing. Carrying walking stick. Guess that's it." He closed his bags and entered the airship. "And my ticket. There we go. Goodbye, Brotherhood. Next stop; Serpentsdeep."

Chain stretched lazily, completely ignoring the officials around her. They know I remember nothing, why do they insist on forcing me to- A different voice spoke up, echoing in her mind. You are designated as a spy class, you have recieved a summons to leave this place, I suggest that you pay attention. A brief mental argument ensued, distracting the lead official as his charges eye began alternating between piercing and flaming. Coughing loudly, the official winced upon seeing his charge.

One eye blazed pure blue, ethereal flames, the other was machinery. The girl herself was a mismatched amalgamation of parts, tissue and bone meshing with iron and steel. The girl wasn't large, a product of heavy machinery and life threads had made her fearsome. The official was only given the barest details as to the circumstances that had ended in her capture and the addition of the anima-imbued eye. Once he was sure that the girl was paying attention, he continued, "Now, you are requesting leave? I see no reason to discharge you from my care, Patient 54. You are still not fully aware, you could still present a danger to the Brotherhood and its interests."

The official then turned his attention to the small mountain of paperwork that cluttered his desk, waving the girl away. The girl did not leave, however, instead stating, "there should be a release form on your desk, three books to your right and four layers down."

Glaring, the official looked through his desk procuring a release summons, and after reading through it, said, "Very well, obviously those above me have made the decision to trust you. You are now released. Have a lovely day." The official turned back to his paperwork, ignoring the girl.

With that, the eye blazed blue and the girl spoke, "I presume I will get my weaponry back?" The official looked up from his paperwork and motioned to an aid, who proferred a katana and a large gun. Turning on her heel, the girl walked out of the state building and headed towards Serpentsdeep.

A mission.... Sounds interesting, maybe I ca- ohhh food. Maybe they'll let me have some! Wrong. You were given no currency, therefore you have no money to purchase the foods. You are only an hours' walk from the meeting point, I suggest you begin. Looking despondently at the food, Chain turned and walked down the street, her eye activating as she had became distracted, slowly leading her towards the meeting place.

Chain was the second to arrive, the first being a boy in simple clothing. The room feels cold around him, I wonder i- He is designated as Michael. He controls a powerful ice anima by the name of mouse. Introducing yourself would be a wise move. Ignoring the mechanical voice in her head, Chain walked to the opposite side of the room and leaned against the wall, hoping to doze off.

The woman sighed. Covert operations...somehow, I knew they'd call on my skills someday.

Former Technocracy agent Dolk November stepped onto the waiting airship - a massive affair, painted in the violet - and - black colors of the Brotherhood, the symbol of the bent tree proudly displayed on the helium balloon. November herself was a tall, stately woman, who, with her long, lustrous black hair and dark, almost mysterious eyes would be quite attractive were her fair features not constantly settled into an analytic frown. More importantly, however, most of her body - her arms in particular - was replaced with a black metal filigree, and every movement had an almost imperceptible whit, as if her joints were on gears and cogs. She wore a plain black shirt and trousers, in a sorry attempt to hide herself, but still the filigree was evident in the very way she moved.

When she stepped on the airship, some of the passengers shrunk back, as if in fear. Of course, November thought. It's only been a month since that day...of course no one trusts me.... Silently, she began to scan the crowd. Two men in particular stood out to her.

One was a barrel-chested bear of a man, with a thuglike, scarred face and close-cut brown hair. The man was dressed in a fine black ensemble, trimmed with gold, with the golden buttons upon his jacket marking him as an officer of the Law. A firearm lay at the man's side, but it evidently had not been used. Why send this man? He's clearly naught but bravado - I'm supposed to see him. Ah...

And with that, her gaze turned to the second man. A smaller man, with mouse-brown hair, worn parted, but short, and with average brown eyes - the man was almost completely average - November had to fight to keep her eyes from simply sliding off him, registering him as part of the crowd. But the tell-take bulge in his loose, brown jacket told another story. Equipped with a firearm, but dressed as a civilian - this man was chosen for his ability to blend in...a plains clothes officer.

November sighed in annoyance. I'm meant to see the first man, as the second man is meant to see me. How clever..and rather pointless. I'm stuck on a leash here as much as I was in the Technocracy. Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better to just disappear.... November idly toyed with a device attached to her right arm, an almost invisible raised strip built I to her filigree. Well, it's not like I can do that here without causing commotion - November noted the people staring at her more commotion, at any rate. Ah well, nothing to do but wait.

And with that, Dolk November sat down, and waited.

Vegras was doing what he was always doing in his free time. Fighting against whatever disease seemed to be facing the outlining villages that where in Brotherhood territory. For now he was dealing with a man who had caught an arrow with his chest when a group of bandits had decided they wanted to take control of the towns farms. Friend was already taking care of them in its own way leaving him free to begin operation.

"Patient is male, possible mid thirty's and is suffering from an arrow to the chest, the wound might be infected, and the arrow might be laced with some sort of poison, reminding Friend to bring me a sample of the arrow when he is finished, reminder completed, now moving on to steps needed to make a successful operation, first removal of arrow, barred tip makes it impossible to pull out, so I will have to work around it, removing shaft of arrow now" the young boy pulled a knife out of his jacket and cut off the wood that was still stick out.

"Next step..." he paused and turned around. Standing in the doorway was a creature of impossible length. It stood to the roof of the cottage and was extremely thin. The most odd thing about it through was its lack of a face. Instead of eyes or ears or any of the other things that made up a human face there was just pure white skin. The nightmarish creature held one of its freakishly long arms out and handed an arrow to the boy for him to examine. "Poison is extracted from nearby fungus, common systems are whole body paralysis followed by death, Friend go retrieve.." the monster handed him a mushroom. "Very good, now then use your noncorrupted energy to add in enough power to make this effective." he handed the mushroom back and a small white tentacle came out of the beasts back and touched it fueling energy into it until the mushroom changed colors to yellow. "Good, now make one of your tentacles a funnel and move it into the arrow surrounding it, after that melt the barbs and begin arrow extraction, I will heal the flesh as it is pulled out, begin"

The creature summoned another tentacle, this one black as midnight, its shape began to shift until it became the exact shape of the wound. It pushed it enveloping the arrow and forcing the wound open a bit more. if the mans body weren't unable to he would have screamed at this point. The creature finally surrounded the arrow and began to pull up gently to take the arrow out. The boy put his hands near the wound and reformed the inside of the man as the arrow was pulled out to ensure that the minimum amount of blood would be lost in the operation. Finally the arrow was out and the creatures tentacle spat it to the ground.

"Now administering antidote victims blood stream, Friend make a syringe for me to use" the creature did as the boy asked making the tentacle into the tool. The boys hands flared and the mushroom became like a liquid in his hands. The creatures syringe like tentacle sucked up the liquid and injected it into the man. "Where any of the bandits the correct blood type?" the boy looked at the creature. It didn't respond but the boy nodded. "Fill him up then, after that I will just tell him family to get him plenty of sleep and warm broth and we will be finished. The boy began collecting his things when the message came through. He listened and thought for a second. "Friend before I unsummon you I need you to take me somewhere. He stepped outside with his bag and looked around the village.

He saw what could only be stated as a massacre. Corpses lay everywhere, some impaled on their own weapons, some of them cut open so that the insides of their chests were on the outsides, one man even looked as if he had been hung on his own stretched out innards. "Beautiful day isn't it?" he said to no one in particular. The entire village had been killed in the bandits attack, the man he had worked on had no family to still treat him. But the boy smiled at a job well done, and his friend put a hand on his shoulder and disappeared from view, off to another adventure.

(First post of a collab with Qara. Second part shall come soon.)

As the evening sun set softly in the west, bathing the sky in reddish hues, the bright lanterns came on one by one through the courtyard of the ostentatious mansion. Laughing and conversation filled the air as the beautifully dressed nobility flitted from here to there amidst their high class society, while silent, black clad waiters strolled between the small groups of people, carrying trays with a wide array of contents. It was quite the party. After all, their host was the son and heir of one of the most prominent men in the Brotherhood.

Laughing and chatting away along with the rest, a man with a long, flowing black coat and wide brimmed hat wandered aimlessly through the party, diverted once or twice by some minor friend or acquaintance that requested his temporary presence in their group.

Stepping away from one such group without looking where he was going, the man, Silas, bumped into a waiter just returning to the main house to refill his tray with champagne, causing both men to stumble aside. The butler apologized profusely. "Ah, I'm very sorry, sir. I should have been more aware of my surroundings."

"Don't worry too much about it. It's fine." Silas grinned. "Actually, how about you go get me a drink on your way back out?"

Nodding, the butler relaxed, bowed, and quickly moved away. "At once, sir."

Saying goodbye once more to the people he had been leaving, and brushing off the incident, Silas stepped away and began moving towards the house. Adjusting his hat, he glanced upward over the brim, towards a specific third story window, just in time to catch a silhouette moving away. The right side of his mouth curled upward into a smirk. Contact.

An elegantly dressed lady that Silas was vaguely acquainted with stepped into the path as well, and the two walked together to the house, Silas amusing his companion with joking quips at this and that, before snagging two glasses of champagne from the returning waiter, handing one off to the lady, and then slipping away into the crowd inside the main ballroom with a word of parting.

Smiling to himself, as though amused by some private joke, Silas weaved his way through the crowded grand hall towards where he heard a small commotion. Sure enough, many people were gathered around the host of this great event, who had just entered the room from the east wing, the same wing he had seen the shadow in the window. Showtime.

Stepping forward into the path of the young man, he politely bowed and doffed his hat. "Ah, here is my wonderful host. Nice to meet you! I'm Colonel Silas, from the armed forces." The man, about Silas' age, halted, glanced at him, and widened his eyes for a moment. Amateur. Hoping no one saw that, Silas quickly corralled the onlookers attention by continuing to speak. "I must thank you profusely for the invitation."

Catching the hint, the other man twitched, his expression shifting into a welcoming smile. "Ah, yes, I've heard about you from some of my friends!" Beginning to walk again, the two men strolled along the wall of the room, looking out some enormous, beautifully made, floor-to-ceiling windows. "How are you enjoying the night so far?"

"Oh, it's been quite fun. I was shocked to hear that this was the first party you've organized."

The other man scratched the back of his neck, seeming slightly embarrassed. "Well, that's certainly good to hear. According to my friends, you're quite the authority on that kind of thing."

Grinning, Silas responded quickly. "Well, looks like your friends know a thing or two. It's such a shame I don't have the money to do this kind of thing. Put me in charge and I'd throw a party no one would forget anytime soon!" He waved his hands to emphasize his point, and stared dramatically into the middle distance, getting a laugh that carried a slight undertone of nervousness from his companion for his antics. Aaaaand now for the important line.

Still chuckling, the young noble responded. "Ahahah. Maybe next party I have, I'll get you in on the planning team." Silas laughed aloud, but beneath the disguise he was focusing intently on what was to come. Contact complete. Down to business. "Though, my friends also informed me I should keep an eye on your budget." Silas laughed a little louder at his companion's joking remark.

Glancing out the window and the flawlessly kept grounds, filled with fountains, gardens, and statues, with an artificially kept wood rolling off over a hill to the south, Silas looked out farther away from the house, at the long line of lights moving quickly over a hill along the edge of the mansion's lands. "This is such an amazing place. It's just too bad that it's so close to the train tracks. Does it ever get bothersome?"

With a shrug and a sigh, the other man smiled slightly, as if to say "What can you do?". "I'm afraid it has been known to happen from time to time. With the recent advances, they are quieter, but they were just too loud to begin with." As if to emphasize his point, a train whistle rang out through the night.

"What a shame. It does bring back memories though." Silas ended his statement on an upbeat note, smiling again.

"Memories?"

"Yeah. I grew up in a place like this, not too far from a train yard. My older brother was quite the adventurer. I can remember multiple times he would slip out through the servant's entrance in the back and go along through the edges of the nearby wood until he made it down to the train yard. There were never really any guards around the place, so he would play in there as long as he wanted, then turn up back at the house." He saw the other man's expression switch for a minute, his eyes light up with hope, then it was hidden again. Silas finished. "When he got caught, he would get in so much trouble!" No noted the twitch of fear from the man's posture. This guy was so easy to read. No wonder he had been compromised.

After some more small talk, Silas parted ways with his host, saying that unfortunately, he had work in the morning, so he would have to depart. Giving the young man his thanks once more, he took his leave. Of course, the whole story he had told had been entirely made up. While he did have an older brother, two actually, he had grown up in the Republic, and it wasn't as though they had trains, as paranoid of all technology as they were. However, the story had not been meant to be taken as a story.

Striding quickly from the front gates, Silas boarded a carriage, not bothering to tell the driver where to go. The man knew well enough, having been dispatched from Brotherhood Intelligence. Sitting back in the silent, dark interior of the box on wheels and listening to the clatter of the horse's feet ahead, Silas reached into his pocket, pulling out a small piece of paper.

Agent,

The situation has changed, and your orders have been modified accordingly. Upon reviewing the evidence, we have determined that the risk of maintaining the agent in question now that he has been compromised is too high. You are to extract him from the watchful eyes of the Brotherhood and silence him. However, the highest priority is to keep yourself from being compromised as well. It does not matter how you complete this task, as long as it does not risk your cover.

Compensation for your exemplary services so far in detecting this risk will be added to your payroll.

Republic Intelligence

Silas smirked to himself upon reading the letter once more. This was just the kind of thing he excelled at. Taking the paper into his hands once more, Silas did something odd. Very carefully, he creased the paper right below the final line of the letter and right above the signature and seal at the end. Folding the bottom segment up and over the final line, he folded the letter one more time, this time making a crease just above the final line and folding that back behind the paper. The end result was that the final line was folded aside and hidden, while the letter looked, at a glance, perfectly whole. That would be important to his plans later.

He felt the carriage roll to a stop, so he returned the paper to his pocket and stood, climbing out. With a nod to the driver, he sent the carriage off once more and slipped around the edge of the large building he had been dropped in front of. As he rounded the bend, the sight of a cluster of unused train cars came into view. Slipping into the shadows of a boxcar, he waited.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, he heard the sound of movement approaching him. Stepping out, he made the shadowy figure jumped in fright and let out a yelp. "Relax, it's only me."

"Ah. Silas. You scared me. So, this is how we are getting out of here?"

"How you're getting out of here. I'm not so lucky yet." Silas motioned for the other man to follow and slipped off towards a freight train across the yard. His companion saw the lights and figures moving around the train and grew nervous. "Relax. I'm a traitor, remember? The Brotherhood Intelligence Agency has a lot of connections, and of course they just hand them over to me freely. I'm one of their best agents, after all."

The other man, slightly calmed chuckled a bit. "Heh. And you're also the Republic's secret weapon. Yeesh, how do you handle the stress?"

Silas just grinned. "What stress? I've been raised to do this my whole life. There are things that come naturally to some people. You may not be cut out for this job, bu to me, it's easy."

"Oh. I see." The lame response showed that the other man was still quite nervous.

"I said to relax. You've got me planning the escape. There's noting to worry about," Silas said, with a hint of arrogance slipping into his tone. "Come on, they've left this boxcar open." Sure enough, he removed the latch on the car easily and slid the door to one side. The young man beside him winced at the noise and quickly hopped in and slipped back among the boxes inside the shadowy depths.

It was at that moment that, with a piercing, high-pitched whistle, the train began to roll. Silas' fellow traitor slowly relaxed the farther they got away from the station. The double agent just laughed. "See? What did I tell you! You're home free now! I- wha-" With a grunt, Silas lost his footing and collapsed against a stack of crates deeper within the boxcar. His mind was being yanked away from the real world by some kind of magic. No! Not here! Not now! I've got to focus! Resisting the spell, however, seemed to be the wrong move, for even as he lashed out against the invasion of his mind, the spell replied in kind, its sender extremely insistent that he be heard. His vision blurred as the boxcar slipped away, the cry of surprise from his companion sounding as though it came from a great distance before fading out entirely. Silas couldn't feel his body.

A moment later, however, the blackness around him was broken by the bottom half of a face. Silas wanted to shout at the face that now wasn't the time, but he couldn't make his voice sound out.

"Greetings, Brother. You do not know who I am, but suffice it be said that I am a high official within the inner ranks of the Brotherhood. You may refer to me to your fellow colleagues as 'Mr. A'." Command was calling him now? But why? They knew he was on a mission! Silas paused for a moment, then he realized. This Mr. A person must have been far higher in the ranks than anyone who gave him orders. It was entirely possible that he wasn't even aware of current active mission logs. It was a huge oversight, but with bureaucracy being what it was, Silas was not particularly surprised. That was an indicator with how depressingly familiar he was with this sort of thing.

"You are receiving this message by virtue of your expertise in certain areas. Simply put, you are being recruited for certain covert operations which require your specific talents. A logical person would ask, of course, 'What do I stand to gain?'. The answer to that is equally simple. Everything. Wealth, power, fame, what you want, you will receive. Perhaps you require certain, ah, privileges. I would be happy to provide.

Should you choose to accept my offer, proceed to Serpentsdeep, meet at the rendezvous point, which shall be given to you, with your other associates. The mission briefing will commence there. Until then, Echo Team." Serpentsdeep? What the hell was he supposed to do there?

"-ilas! Silas!" The man in question groaned as he blinked open his eyes, his vision adjusting to the dim interior of the car. His worried companion was shaking him, bu relaxed when he heard the noise. "You're awake! What happened?"

"Some smart ass tried to talk to me through a spell or something." He rubbed his head, which was aching in complaint.

"Hey, Silas, you dropped a paper or som-" The young man was cut off as Silas' eyes snapped wide open, and his hand darted down to snatch away the piece of parchment before the other could make contact with it. Pulling it back to him, he subtly checked the folds.

Silas swore in his mind. he knew without looking that the other man was startled. A jumpy young noble, running for his life from his country with a man who he had just barely met was not the most trusting person. Suspicions had been aroused. Well, time to go into game mode. A little early, but...

"Wha... What is that paper?" He could hear the apprehension in the other's voice as the young man stepped backwards and changed his stance. Silas glanced around the car. The partially open door of the boxcar was to his left, and outside he could see the countryside shooting past. He recognized some of the landscape and winced mentally. Not much time was left. The spell had delayed him for almost too long.

It was time for some manipulation. His expression hardened, and his golden eyes became stone cold as Silas straightened, and then stood, looming over the other man. "This?" He spoke calmly as he looked at the paper. "These are my orders from command." Silas quietly held up the paper to the light of the open door, grasping it with his finger on the fold so that the sheet seemed continuous. The black ink on the white of the paper was easily readable in the moonlight from outside.

Agent,

The situation has changed, and your orders have been modified accordingly. Upon reviewing the evidence, we have determined that the risk of maintaining the agent in question now that he has been compromised is too high. You are to extract him from the watchful eyes of the Brotherhood and silence him. However, the highest priority is to keep yourself from being compromised as well. It does not matter how you complete this task, as long as it does not risk your cover.

Republic Intelligence

The young man before him read the words with increasing horror. "...and silence...him?" He spoke out quietly, as though he couldn't believe his eyes. "...No.... NO! They promised to get me out of here! They said they would get me away! What is this?"

"They reconsidered. Basically, one of their other agents suspected you were a Brotherhood plant. They just compared the risk against your usefulness to them now that you've been compromised. That would be zero." The man whirled, staring at Silas with fear-maddened eyes as the taller man spoke coldly. His hand shot into his jacket and frantically withdrew a single shot pistol, bringing it up and pulling back the hammer as his finger reached for the trigger. Silas moved before the other had a chance to realize what happened. Black metal engraved with twisted silver vines and wings flashed in the light seeping in from the door, basking in the familiar white light of the moon, almost seeming to emanate moonbeams of its own. Even in the same moment Tsukuyomi was drawn with Silas' right hand, he slammed aside the barrel of the younger man's gun, then with a twist sent it spinning up through the air, snatching it away with his left, pointing it out the door, and discharging the single bullet with a report that was cloaked by the loud clatter of the train around them.

Silence fell in the boxcar as the young man looked up at Silas in terror. "P-please don't kill me. You aren't gonna kill me, a-are you?" Silas paused for a moment more, black barrel leveled at the defenseless man's head, then, with a sudden flourish, he withdrew the revolver and twirled it absently around his finger.

"Nope!" He grinned down at the other man. "I didn't sign up to execute people just because some officer or other thinks they are worthless." The young noble opened his mouth in shock a few times, stunned and relieved. "But, this obviously means you can't go to the Republic, and you've already fled the Brotherhood. Besides' as long as you are alive, the Republic will keep sending in assassins." Gaining another serious expression, Silas continued. "There really is no escape, and if I don't kill you, they'll come after me, so I can't let you go back."

"But- But you said you wouldn't kill me!" The panicked man screamed, but it wasn't as though anyone could hear him over the train.

"I'm not going to kill you. However, The heir of the Earl of Ashure has to die here, on this train."

"But-!"

"I'm not done." Silas cut him off. "See, I've pulled a few strings, and I've got a solution." He knelt down and grabbed the other man's shoulder. "How would you like to go on an all expense payed vacation, courtesy of the Brotherhood? A looooooooooong vacation."

"Huh? What is that suppose to-?"

"See, it works like this. You've got info the Brotherhood intel guys want, so I, in my mercy, got in touch with them and sold them an offer. You answer their questions, and in return, they fake your death, ship you off to some exotic locale of your choosing, give you some body guards, a makeover of your choice, and a nice fat pension. I even negotiated the allowance up a bit. No need to thank me. How's that sound?" A rumble ran through the train as with a loud screech, the brakes came on. Whew. Just in time.

"That- Why are we stopping?" The young noble looked back at Silas.

"Well, that would be us stopping to greet the Brotherhood investigators assigned to take you out of here." He shrugged. " I told you, the heir to the Earl of Ashure has to die on this train. I can't take any risks that someone might see you leaving, so I set up a meeting out here. So, what's it gonna be?" The train slowed and began to roll to a halt. Voices could be heard outside and down the tracks, and lights could be seen through the door. "By the way, the other option is they arrest you and keep you in custody for what will probably be the rest of your natural life. You are a traitor to them, you know." Standing and walking to the door, Silas tipped the brim of his hat to the young man still within the car. "Just let them know your answer when they drop by. Better think fast."

With a grunt, Silas landed in a jog on the grassy bank beside the train and slowed to a walk towards the swarm of lights a few hundred meters ahead. He made no attempt to join them or check on the other man, but instead walked in that general direction in silence, contemplating the strange message he had received.

"Hey, Silas!" A badly shaven man wearing the black coat of the Brotherhood Intelligence agents on official duty jogged towards the brooding Silas, waving an arm in the air and grinning. He slowed before the colonel and grinned, giving a thumbs up. "Yo! Looks like you solve another one of our problems!"

"Inspector." Silas' tone was most certainly underwhelmed as he glowered at the overly cheerful guy before him. "Hmph. Of course I solved your problems. It seems like that's all I do around here."

The other man, undaunted by his friends sudden abrasive attitude, just chuckled. "So, what's up with you? You usually like to come over and gloat every time you pull off another one of these stunts."

"Hah! It's not like your grunts would understand the subtleties of my plan." Both men knew the arrogance was just posturing, though.

"Yeah, on that topic, how the hell do you do that anyway? You switch sides so fast it gives me whiplash just watching you!"

"It's a natural talent. I could try to teach you, but I think it would probably be futile."

The Inspector grinned at his comrade as the wandered towards the main group once more. "Hah! As if I'd want to learn something like that. You're scary. Sometimes I wonder how you even remember which side you are on, or if you even can do that."

Silas grinned smugly as he replied. "It's very simple really. All I have to do is remember which side of the bed I got up on that morning." There was a pause as the Inspector examined him in silence, then opened his mouth to say something. Silas laughed. "My bed is against a wall, Hamilton." His friend, realizing he had been tricked, laughed along with him.

"Well, anyway, the kid went right along, just like you said he would. I've got everything set up to get him a new ID and life." He paused, then became serious. "You really think it was a trick by the Republic, trying to outmaneuver you and test your loyalty?"

Silas paused and stared into space, frowning along with his friend. "Hmm. Well, it is certainly possible. Won't be the most underhanded tactic I've seen in my life. That's why I want you to keep him under surveillance. If he tries to contact them, then we've seen through their plot."

"But they were willing to sacrifice one of their own for it?"

Silas sighed. "They've done much worse, haven't they?" Frowning further, his friend nodded, disturbed by the prospect. Hamilton was far too nice a man for this line of work, sometimes. Silas stopped and looked up at the starlit sky for a moment in silence, taking off his wide-brimmed hat with one hand so that he could see the sky better. Hamilton, knowing his friend well enough to tell when he was in deep thought, stayed silent beside him. Finally Silas stepped forward, away from Hamilton. "Do you have any transportation for me?"

Smiling once more, Hamilton nodded, though Silas couldn't see him. "Sure do. There's a horse down there at the edge of the wood. I figured you'd be off again in a hurry, but this is pretty fast even for you. Something happen?"

Silas frowned in silence for a moment. "Well, I've got to get into the office tomorrow. I already took yesterday off. And... I've got another job." He didn't say more on the subject of his assignment. Hamilton didn't ask.

"Alright then. Good luck, and if you need me, you know how to get in touch." Waving, the inspector started to turn and go back to his men, when Silas turned and looked over his shoulder and called to him.

"Hamilton!" The inspector turned back with a questioning look. Silas grinned. "Thanks for the help." As Hamilton grinned, Silas replaced his hat, and then turned as his coat rippled out behind him.



----------------------------------------------------------

The door to the main office from outside slammed open with a violent bang and a peal of gloating laughter as Silas came leaping through and into the open room, causing four heads to jerk up simultaneously. "Your beloved commanding officer has made his triumphant return, after heroically attending the party of the season!"

Kicking back with his feet near the end of a long, rectangular desk taking up the center of the room, a blonde haired, tall man grinned around his unlit cigarette and raised a hand in casual greeting as he adjusted some stray sheets of paperwork against his knee. "Hey boss! Welcome back!"

Across from him, and also close to the door, a stout, bland looking man with dull orange hair glanced up from the sheets halfheartedly spread across the table in front of him and grinned. "Hey, you're back! Does that mean I don't have to do this paper work for you now?"

Silas laughed cheerily, grinned at the man, then said in perfect deadpan, "Nope. Not happening, Gary. Nice try."

The blonde haired man from a moment before laughed at the disappointing face of his old friend. "Hey, what did you expect, man? The boss is even lazier than you are!"

Gary let out a snort and tossed a pen back at his best friend. "Shut up, Arpad." There wasn't any malice in his tone, though. Arpad, grinning, effortlessly caught the pen and began to twirl it around his hand nonchalantly.

"Good afternoon, Colonel!" The quieter voice came from a short, skinny young man with dark hair and glasses, who looked almost too young to be in the army. However, appearances were deceiving, and if one looked closer, they would see that behind him on the corner table he had just been rising from, was an enormous array of partially disassembled radios and surveillance equipment.

Silas waved. "Greetings Rotem! How's that radio coming along?"

The shy looking man smiled and adjusted his glasses. "Great so far, Sir. I'll have it ready for action soon!"

"Perfect!" Silas turned to the final occupant of the room, who was just standing from his seat and beginning a salute.

"Welcome back, Colonel."

Silas smiled and sent a relaxed salute his way. "At ease, Dale. You got that report the generals were pestering us about earlier?"

Smiling slightly in return, Silas' squinty-eyed subordinate dropped his arm from his grey haired head. The man may have been in his thirties, but his hair was already losing it's color, though black could sill be seen from the sides. Silas wasn't entirely sure why that was, either. Figuring out was on his to-do list, but he was perhaps a little too good at procrastination.

It was at that moment that the door to the inner office opened.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexander hated being "in charge". For one thing, he knew that the four men in the outer office were all more experienced than he was; it was only on a technicality that he outranked them. For another, it was always easier to deal with whatever came up when his Colonel was at the big desk beside him, being, well, "in charge". It had been a day already, and he was more than ready to have him back by now. He glanced at the clock, as though it would tell him when his CO was returning. Unsurprisingly, it didn't.

He sighed. At least the men didn't seem to mind him being in a position of authority. Actually, the men had been very welcoming to him since he had joined the unit. As though his thoughts called them to him, Rotem, the Sergeant Major, poked his head through the door dividing the inner office from the outer one. "Sender, we've got company." Alex thought it was funny, a little, how they had taken his ironic nickname and made it their own so quickly. He stood, to find a marshal, stiff in his recently-pressed uniform, standing in the outer office.

"I would like to speak with the ranking officer of this unit," the unfamiliar man said.

"Lieutenant Alexander Taraumda, at your service, sir" Alexander replied, with a slight nod of his head.

The marshal sniffed. "Where's your colonel?"

"Out," said Alexander, shortly. It wasn't his place to question where Silas went when he disappeared, and he had more right to ask than anyone else around-- certainly more than this stranger. "As his aide, I am acting commander of the unit until his return."

The man eyed the slim lieutenant. "You? You're nothing but a pipsqueak!"

At this, growls came from every corner of the room. Alexander felt incredibly relieved: the men had promised they'd back up his authority when the colonel was gone, and they were as good as their word, and better than he'd expected. It was as well, too; their way of dealing with the problem was probably better than his. While his fellow soldiers had sworn up and down that there were no actual rules against cursing a superior officer, he somehow felt that there were guidelines somewhere that advised strongly against it.

"We respect Lieutenant Taraumda, and he has the commendation of Colonel Silas." Second Lieutenant Arpad's voice bordered on insubordination. "Perhaps you should accept that, too. Sir."

Sensing the zeitgeist of the room-- and picking up on the name of the CO-- the man backed off, taking a new tack. "I see," he said. "You're the nut's babysitter?"

Alex winced internally; he hated it when people spoke so derisively of Silas, though he'd certainly had time to get used to it by now. It was true that his commanding officer could be a little... odd, at times, but the man had a good heart, and was incredibly good at what he did, making all oddness ultimately irrelevant. He wished more people could see that, but, well, that was their problem. "In a manner of speaking, yes," he conceded.

"See that he gets this, then," the officer ordered, holding out a slim sheaf of papers. He eyed Alexander again. "Though, from what I know of your colonel, you're probably the person who should be dealing with it, in any case."

The man turned on his heels and left the office as soon as Alexander had accepted the papers, as though it physically pained him to be in their presence a moment longer.

"Jerk," commented Arpad, after the man had left. He laughed at Alexander's expression, panicky at the idea of outright insulting superior officers.

"Sir, do you have any idea when the Colonel is coming back?" asked Dale, the group's warrant officer.

Alexander shook his head. He didn't like being referred to as 'Sir', it made him uncomfortable, but he knew from experience that the other man's heart was in the right place, he was just formal by nature. "I hope soon. Dealing with important people is stressing me out."

"What, like we're not important? I'm wounded," Arpad joked.

"It's not like you don't have to deal with the important people when he is here," pointed out Gary, the other Second Lieutenant. "They never want to speak to him."

"Yes, but when he's here, it's... different." Alex gesticulated vaguely, trying to make his point. "Because he's there, being distracting, being... him. I might have to do the talking, but all the pressure's off." What he wanted to say but couldn't quite articulate was: it was easy to know what he was doing when Colonel Silas was standing beside him, informing him of what he was doing by some inexplicable combination of body language and oblique suggestion.

"Speaking of," said Rotem, who was less irreverent and loud than the rest, a trait Alexander found comforting, "you probably should take a look at what Marshal Boring gave you, in case it's a while before the colonel can see it."

"Right, thanks..." Alexander disappeared back into the inner office, unclipping the papers the marshal had given him.

An hour or two later, he had finally finished writing up his own notes on what had turned out to be the debriefing papers for a new Field assignment for their unit. He dried the ink from his pen, and had just stepped out into the outer office, when... something happened.

There was... a man's face, in his head, only visible from the nose down, speaking in a voice that reached his mind but not his ears. The best comparison he could come up with for the situation was that it felt something like how he imagined his spells would feel to a person on the receiving end who was familiar enough with power in the general sense to know what was attacking him, only more benign. Some deep instinct told him that this was no hallucination, no malignant spell, but a message that someone more powerful than he had somehow managed to send.

"Greetings, Brother. You do not know who I am, but suffice it be said that I am a high official within the inner ranks of the Brotherhood. You may refer to me to your fellow colleagues as 'Mr. A'.

"You are receiving this message by virtue of your expertise in certain areas. Simply put, you are being recruited for certain covert operations which require your specific talents. A logical person would ask, of course, 'What do I stand to gain?' The answer to that is equally simple: Everything. Wealth, power, fame; what you want, you will receive. Perhaps you require certain, ah, privileges. I would be happy to provide.

"Should you choose to accept my offer, proceed to Serpentsdeep. Meet at the rendezvous point, which shall be given to you, with your other associates. The mission briefing will commence there. Until then, Echo Team."

The face vanished, and the voice fell silent. Alex stood, rooted to the spot, the field mission momentarily forgotten along with his surroundings and companions. Recruited for his talents. Serpentsdeep. He would have to-- he should--

Hmmm... If he obeyed this voice, this Mr. A-- that would mean deserting. On the other hand, if he was truly being recruited for this, then arguably it wasn't desertion, simply switching divisions. On the other hand, what incentive did he have to follow it? The voice had promised wealth, power, fame, special privileges-- he wanted none of these.

Truth be told, the only thing he had truly wanted, he himself had put forever out of his grasp. His only remaining desires were his to achieve, but not within this individual's power to give. Or were they? Ultimately, he wanted to make something of himself-- make his mark on the world, prove his life worthwhile. And wasn't this covert mission, whatever it was, guaranteed to do just that? Perhaps he had a better chance at doing something meaningful with this "Echo Team" than he did in the Brotherhood's army reserves, cleaning up riots and responding to minor emergencies.

Gary waved a hand in front of Alexander's eyes, snapping him back into the moment. "Big Guy? You okay in there? Because I really like being lazy; don't pass out and make me be in charge!"

Alex blinked, used to the other man's jesting nickname for him. "What? Oh. Sorry. Sorry. Right. I'm here. Actually, I have news for us: a field mission."

"Finally," cheered Arpad. "How soon?"

"Couple days. I've made copies of the information for each of you, though we can't move forward on much of this until the colonel gets here." And I won't be joining you. Alexander's brow furrowed; how was he supposed to break that to everyone?

A flash of inspiration hit him: after all, they had all seen him go silent when he was receiving that message, but they didn't, presumably, know the reason why. It wouldn't be so impossible for them to believe that it was something to do with his power, considering that Silas was the only one in the unit, as far as he knew, who had bothered to look into how Alexander's magic actually worked.

He cleared his throat, assuming a properly sombre expression. "I, uh, actually, I just found out about a family emergency-- I don't feel right leaving until Colonel Silas returns, but depending on how deep the problem goes, I might not return on time for this."

"Is everyone okay?" Rotem asked, his dark eyes concerned for his friend.

Alexander nodded, swallowing hard. "Everyone will be," he affirmed. He hated himself for lying to them, but he knew he'd hate himself even more if they believed he was deserting, and there was no sane way to explain what had happened without sounding like he was doing just that. For all he knew, he was doing just that. And, after all, he was so used to self-loathing by now that another little drop in the pool would hardly make a difference, now, would it?

Gary reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. I was joking before. If you need to go now, Arpad and I can hold the fort."

He shook his head. "Thank you. But I'll stay out the day, at least. I don't want to shirk my obligation to the colonel." The colonel. Oh god, he was going to have to explain to Silas. Thanking the men again for their supportiveness, Alexander escaped to the inner office, where he sat back at his desk, head in his hands. What was he going to say to the CO who had done so much for him, to explain why he was simply taking off?

He didn't know how long it was that he sat there, drawing a blank, before new sounds from outside his door alerted him to the fact that his boss had, finally, returned. The outer office fell silent when Alexander emerged; he did not want to think about how dishevelled he probably looked. "Welcome back, sir," he greeted his commanding officer. "Might I have a private word with you? It's urgent."

Silas arched an eyebrow. "More urgent then my lunch?" However, in a moment, his subordinate's expression keyed him in to the severity of the situation and he stepped forward, shrugging.

Alexander wiped his hands against the side of his uniform as he followed Silas into the inner office; he was used to his palms tingling from his filthy magic, not from a nervous sweat. Now, though, his thoughts were in total disarray. He didn't know what to say, or how to say it; all he knew was that, unlike with the other men, he was absolutely not going to lie this time. Not to Silas; he would face the full shame of his CO's disappointment if necessary, but he would not lie to him.

Reagar walked down the forest path. He was on assignment from the fools in the Brotherhood. Apparently some bandits had attacked some poor villagers recently. However the bandits were only a secondary concern to his primary target. Reagar pulled a paper containing target details. He brushed aside his dark hair so he could read the paper clearly. Yes I see. Traitor to the Brotherhood suspected of selling secrets, taken up banditry since then. He will be a good target for my new spell. I’m glad that these measures for traitors are already in place. It means that when I assume control it will be even easier to tighten strictures. After all I cant have any security issues in my new empire.

For awhile while he walked Reagar mulled over the idea in his head: “Emperor Reagar”. He then heard a series of low moans emanating from the earth. “Of course I will show you proper gratitude. I would not have gotten this far without your assistance my ally. In my new order those who support me will receive great rewards. Those who oppose will meet their end on the battlefield or by execution.” There were another series of moans in return to this. “Yes well it’s a simple matter of convincing them that I am their best option.”
“Who are you talking to dead man?”

The wizard turned and saw a man leveling a rifle at him. “Oh look one of the fools we are looking for no doubt.”
“I asked you a question.”
“Yes but there is not point in conversing with someone who will be dead soon.” Before the man could respond he was yanked off his feet and brutally slammed into a tree until dead.
“Thank you.”

Reagar continued on his path until he came across the remains of a small village. He could still see the bandits combing through the ruins. Several of them noticed him and proceeded to surround him brandishing various weapons. Reagar grinned quiet disturbingly at the ones in front of him. “Good afternoon gentlemen, take me to your leader.”
“That wont be necessary, that would be me” Said a tall man as he walked out.
“Excellent.” Reagar wasted no more time than that raising his fist and splaying his hand, casting his spell. The only visible effects were the sickly yellow glow cloaking Reagar’s hand and the bandit leader clutching at his chest before dropping over dead.
“Wh-what did you do?”
“I expanded a barrier inside his chest, exploding his heart. This concludes my business. I shall be going now so long as none of you trouble me.”
“Yes we aren’t planning on fighting someone who can do that”
“Wonderful, I’m dealing with intelligent people. Its good to know some still exist in the world.”
After walking a short way through the woods Reagar received a mental message. Serpentsdeep eh? This sounds quite promising.

An uneventful week later…

Reagar had arrived at the meeting point. He was somewhat disappointed by the turnout. The only others to occupy the room were a man who wore a sword on his hip and emanated cold and a cybernetic girl. “Are you two the only assets my employer has seen fit to give me? Shame. Still I suppose it will have to do.”

The zeppelin landed without a hitch. "Serpentsdeep, all off for Serpentsdeep!" shouted the flight attendant, a tall, attractive young woman. The big cop leered at her every once in awhile, to general disgust, including a subtle frown from the plainclothesman.

Men. thought November. Regardless, everything seemed to be in order, and, so, November left for the large town. Neither of the policemen were following her. I see, she thought, no need to watch me now that I'm no longer in Brotherhood territory. How cynical...and yet. November smiled inwardly. Now she could move around freely, without scrutiny.

"Hey, lady, what's with your body?" said a curious child, with the blunt honesty only ever available to the very young. The child was a little chubby, with sandy hair - clearly spoiled by his mother, given his clean, pink, uncallused hands. Unprepared, thought November inadvertently, but then shook her head. That was the thought of an agent - she was not an agent. Not an agent... She sighed. I left to get away from all that. And now I have to go back to the same job I left. The more things change...

November ducked into an alley, populated only by a few drifters. The more they stay the same. A compartment on her wrist opened, displaying a hard black disc, which November then pressed. A holographic disguise fell upon the lean, hard, metal frame - that of a tall, fair-haired, pretty young woman - though nothing really head-turning. The hologram was dressed in a dress similar to that worn by some of the Serpentsdeep women - made of a stiff, durable fabric, in white, as was the fashion these days, with a flowing, long skirt to go with it. Pointless...looking pretty isn't going to save you if someone jumps you in... She shook off these thoughts as well. I need to stop thinking like that...

Sighing heavily, November proceeded to the meeting place. Three others? She analyzed the trio thoroughly. The first man was radiating cold, as demonstrated by the infrared portion of her vision, and radiated power. He looked much like a typical hero, cocky. The second man seemed perpetually sneering, and subtle shifts in his expression indicated a man used to being obeyed, and one who would discard you as soon as look at you.

The woman...October? November could barely believe her eyes. Dolk October was there. Had she defected too? Was this a spy? Too many variables...November sighed. It couldn't be helped. November entered the room, and decloaked, closely watching October.

He had been walking throughout in the stone corridors in one often lesser used mess halls, in an all but abandoned corner of the Brotherhood headquarters, when Ghost received the message.

Ghost liked it here. Few people bothered with this end of the domain, so he got his privacy, and it was cold enough that his own chill went less noticed amongst his allies, who while far from being deliberately hostile, couldn’t help the spasms of could that would run through them whenever they got within a few metres. Or even sometimes just at the sight of him.

The message burst behind his eyes, like a psychic projection. It was different to the standard transmissions he sometimes received from people on duty, but not one he was entirely unfamiliar with. Back when he had first entered the Brotherhood the face had cropped up in his and the other Him’s dreams, seemingly to welcome him to his new role, and to run through the same rules he’d already heard repeated a dozen times. The brotherhood seeks peace and an alliance of magical and technological values... the Brotherhood will do whatever is necessary to preserve the peace. You are a part of the brotherhood now, Martin... or Ghost, if that’s truly the name you prefer. Welcome.’

It had seemed cordial enough, in a creepy kind of way, but Ghost knew he would be a fine one to talk about creepiness. He hadn’t seen the half face since. At least not until now, giving him orders... The shudder was instinctive. He hated when people hid their eyes, and yet that kind of transmission, directly into his mind whether he wanted it or not, could only have come from one person.

It was brisk and to the point, gave its instructions and left, with barely a twinge behind Ghost’s eyes to show it had been there.

‘...You heard that?’

‘...’

‘...All right then, but you felt it. Of course...’ he let out a breath. The air frosted before him. ‘Serpentsdeep, huh? Figures. Couldn’t it have been somewhere a little less... well. Wet?’

‘...’
‘Because you know what that means, don’t you? Water means frost and frost means me getting stuck to the ground wherever we walk.’

‘...’
The shape didn’t make a sound. At least, not one anybody else could hear. The outline which followed him throughout the stone dark corridors could easily have been a second person walking besides him, but only if viewed from a distance. Get any closer than a few metres away, and you saw it barely held a form at all. It was like thoughts, held together by threads or veins, translucent flesh clinging to bones. It kept one hand wrapped around the collar of Ghost’s jerkin, wherever he went, it’s eyes sightless, relying on the boy it clung to in order to be guided.

‘...You’re useless sometimes, you know that?’

‘...'

‘Heh. Alright. We should do as we’re instructed, I suppose.’

‘...?’

He drew back, barely sparing a glimpse to the ‘colleagues’ he passed in the corridor. They flinched, of course. People always flinched, except for the very bravest of them, and to be honest Ghost couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t so much terror they felt as instinct. Something as cold as he could only have been touched by things you didn’t want to encounter in a dark alleyway. His anima was broken, and that meant his essence bled into the surrounding area, creating an aura of freezing cold wherever they went. he felt icy fingertips brush his neck, as if offering reassurance.

‘...’

Ghost sighed. He wasn’t entirely certain why he talked to it, sometimes. There were days when it barely gave any indication that it was still alive. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just the echo of the boy he used to be.

Except what choice did he really have: total isolation from every last living soul due to the fact his powers made even standing within someone’s personal space uncomfortable, or talking to the strange, ghostly whisper of a once-anima, clinging to his body like a half shed skin? A choice between isolation, and talking to an illusion...

And anyway, he though. It wasn't always silent. Every now and then, atit would whisper...

‘Alright... Serpents Deep isn’t so far away. Shall we walk?’

‘...’

‘I thought you’d agree.’

Silas strode into the office, flopping himself down into the massive armchair that sat in front of his desk. He settled in, propping his feet up on the table, before at last turning his attention to his subordinate, waiting for Alexander to explain what was on his mind.

For his part, Alex appreciated the extra time to put his thoughts in order; on some level, he sensed that by making himself comfortable, Silas was trying to help him to do the same. "Sir, I--" he broke off, running a hand nervously through his hair. After hours of brainstorming, he still had no clue what to say, how to do this, how to make it right. He bit his lip as his colonel raised an eyebrow, inviting him to speak.

With a delay-tactic sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Get a move on, he told himself. Putting this off isn't going to help anything. His fingers still on his face, he averted his gaze downward, and let his words pour out in a jumbled rush, afraid that he'd lose momentum and give up if allowed to stop.

"I'm going to have to leave-- I've received orders transferring me to another unit, and they weren't written down, and I don't know the name of the one who gave the orders, and I don't even know how much of what I was told I'm even allowed to repeat to you, and I know this probably sounds like some pathetic excuse for desertion, and all I can say is please don't think that of me, Sir, because I would never do that; I'm sorry I can't explain better, but I don't think these orders are ones I can refuse-- they come from too far up. And I want to say what an honour it is to have served with you, and thank you for everything you've done, sir. I... I'm sorry." He stood there, face down, pinching his nose, breathing heavily, both relieved that he had finally gotten these words off his chest and miserable with anticipation for whatever was to come next.

"Very well," said Silas; "meet me at the train station tomorrow morning."

Alexander's brow creased. He had anticipated a number of possibilities; this was not one of them. "The... train station, sir?"

"Well, how else did you intend to get to Serpentsdeep?"

Alex blinked, a few times in rapid succession. "I... you... but... you're coming with, sir?"

Silas nodded cheerfully. "Come now, are you underestimating your Colonel? Of course they would recruit me! And what use would it be to recruit me if I didn’t have someone to get things done for me, eh?” He grinned at Alex, subtly poking fun at the rumours of his own incompetence to lighten the mood.

Alexander stood, allowing the waves of pure relief flood into him. He didn't think to ask his boss why he had not informed him of this earlier, saving him all that pointless anxiety; he didn't think to question the odds that both of them would be recruited for this elite, top-secret team. For now, it was enough to accept that this was the best of all possible outcomes, better than he could ever have hoped for.

***

The whistle and chug of a departing freight train from the yard on the other side of the platform rang through the air as Silas made his way through the bustling crowd. The station was closer to the outskirts of the downtown area of the capital than one would think, until you remembered just how dirty, noisy, and messy the trains actually were. Silas could see a plume of smoke rising from up ahead, signaling that the engineers had already started stoking the engine's furnace, but he glanced at his pocket watch and confirmed that he still had plenty of time left.

Turning back to the crowd, Silas stood as tall as possible, scanning the area, searching for someone. Finally, his eyes caught a glimpse of deep blue fabric, and he pushed his way quickly towards it, hoping to arrive before its owner moved.

Luckily, the man must have sighted Silas approaching and waited for him, for as Silas stepped out of the crowd, he saw his friend Hamilton leaning casually against a pillar off to the side, dressed up in his normal military uniform, as opposed to the black one he had been wearing the day before yesterday. “Inspector.” Silas stated the title in a deadpan voice as he approached, though it wasn't really the official one. Technically speaking, Hamilton was now a Captain in the intel division, but when they had met, he had been a mere inspector and a field agent, so Silas called him that continuously.

“Heeey, Silas! What's got you your own personal raincloud this morning, eh? You grouchy about getting two missions so close together?” The man, still somehow the exact same amount of unshaven, something Silas had long ago gotten used to, pushed off the pillar and waved to the Colonel casually.

“Hmm.” Silas made a noncommittal noise. “You have the tickets?”

The other man grinned. “Of course I do!” He shook his head jokingly. “What would you do without me, O Great One? You might actually have to pay trainfare!”

“That's the least of my troubles right now, Hamilton.” Silas' frown and tone revealed that he was indeed far from his usual jovial mood.

His friend picked up on it immediately, though. His smile changing from cheerful to encouraging, Hamilton gave Silas a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Hey, cheer up, Silas. If anyone can handle this, it's you, Mr. Turncoat.” He use the teasing nickname he had come up with for Silas' signature style. “Aaaand you will probably betray the whole world at least four times while you're at it.”

Silas only gave him a glare out of the corner of his eye as Hamilton's attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. “I wouldn't be worried if this were just another mission, Hamilton. Nothing about this looks good. Why so soon after my last mission? Why that method of contacting me? Furthermore, why request that Alex come along too? He has no intel experience, no combat experience, and only a minimum of training. It doesn't make sense.” Staring intently into nothing, Silas stroked his chin, lost in thought. Hamilton sighed and let his smile vanish, becoming serious along with his friend as Silas turned to address him once more. “Did you manage to-”

Holding up a hand, the captain sadly shook his head. “Sorry Silas. I did everything I could, but if there are tracks, I certainly couldn't find them.”

Silas' frown worsening, he fell back into thought, then glanced back up, suddenly animated, though no less serious. “Very well, Hamilton. I need you to do me a favor.”

“And by that you mean you spent last night signing me up for something again and you need me to show up on time.”

Silas was completely unashamed of his friends eyeroll and response. “More or less, yes.” He pulled a folded up sheet of paper out of his breast pocket and let it fall open as he held it next to his face, revealing officially sealed deployment and transfer orders.

“Wait, what? Don't you need my signatur-” He was cut off by a smirk from Silas and a single index finger pointing to the bottom of the paper, which, sure enough, bore his signature. He leaned in and examined it intently, only to find absolutely no flaws in it. “Oh. Wow. Didn't know you could do that.”

Silas chuckled smugly, then continued his explanation. “I pulled a few strings in command. You are taking command of my unit in my absence. We got the deployment orders yesterday, the same day Alex got his little invitation.”

Glancing through the form held before him, Hamilton nodded. “You set it up to be temporary, huh?” He shook his head in mock exasperation. “Haven't you ever heard of asking for favours like a normal person?”

His answer was immediate and perfectly deadpan. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Right, right. Well, I suppose there isn't a point to pretending I wouldn't have done it if you asked me first anyway.”

“Exactly.” Silas smirked again slightly, then became serious. “Look, Hamilton, it's not only this mission that's bothering me. The timing of everything is strange. Why deploy a green unit on border patrol? Why ask for an inexperienced officer to assist in a covert mission, and why is the staging area outside Brotherhood influence?”

The other man frowned, catching on to what Silas was implying. “You think something is about to happen. Something big.”

“Right, and I want all of my assets in one place for when it does.”

Hamilton frowned and gently rubbed his stubble. “As much as I'd like to say you are wrong...” He glanced over to his friend. “I've been around you too long to not trust your intuition. And also...”

“What?” Silas' eyes narrowed at the odd way Hamilton had trailed off. “Did you hear something?”

“Well, more like a lot of somethings, really. I put my ear to the ground after I couldn't get the info you asked for. I found out plenty of stuff, and individually, none of it is suspect, but for it all to happen at once...” Snapping back to the topic at hand, Hamilton refocused. “Anyway, all sorts of things are happening at command. Transfers, deployments, changes of command. Promotions, demotions, all of it. The orders all come from different sources but I suspect that that is just a smokescreen.”

“In other words, someone higher up is shuffling our forces around. I was afraid of that...”

Hamilton opened his mouth to speak, but over Silas' shoulder, he sighted someone approaching. Cutting off what he was about to say, he switched over to a grin and waved while calling out jovially. “If it isn't my favourite Lieutenant! Hey Alex! How are you doing today?” He slapped the younger man on his back in an overly friendly manner.

Alex lurched a little from the force of Hamilton’s’ greeting. “Good to see you, Captain Hamilton.” He looked past the captain to his own commander, who was staring off into the distance and frowning somewhat at himself. Alex frowned a little, unconsciously mirroring his boss’s expression. “Everything all right, Sir?”

“Of course!” Silas spun round to face his second in command and went back to grinning. “I was just getting our tickets! Where were those tickets, by the way, Hamilton?”

“Yeah, sure, here you go.” Hamilton removed the tickets from his own pocket and motioned to the hand in which Silas still held the orders he had showed his friend a moment ago. “Trade you.”

“Captain, are you a part of this--?” Alex asked, confused, as he watched the papers change hands.

Hamilton cut off the Lieutenant with a light bop on the head. “Here’s some advice, Kid. When you are on a covert mission, the most important thing to remember is that you don’t tell anyone about it.” He winked jokingly down at Alex.

Alexander bit his lip. “Sorry, Sir. I, uh...”

“Don’t worry about it.” Silas waved off Alex’s slip of the tongue. “It’s not as if I didn’t already call him out here to get us these.” He waved the tickets in the air.

Alexander cleared his throat, caught between feeling bad about his slip-up and amusement at his colonel’s antics. “Sir, are you sure you should be abusing your position to get free fare so often?”

“You worry too much! Besides, this is the beginning of a great adventure! Once we’ve saved the world, what will command care for something like train fare? In fact, I bet they will pay all of my expenses for me in honor of my heroics!” Just as Silas spoke again, a loud, high-pitched whistle cut into the conversation. “Ah! There is our cue! Come Alex, we must depart! Farewell Hamilton! Make sure not to leave me any paperwork when I get baaack~!” Calling in a singsong tone, Silas strolled merrily off toward the boarding area.

Alexander hurriedly shook the captain’s hand with a word of thanks and farewell, then made haste to follow his commander aboard the train.

***

They settled into a companionable silence, each one lost in his own thoughts. Silas cheerily ordered himself a drink from one of the passing waitresses, then leaned back in his chair with a content, and probably slightly overly-dramatic-- just like everything else he did-- sigh, while Alexander gazed out the small compartment window, watching the scenery speed by. Abruptly, he turned back to face his companion.

"Sir, why are we taking the train? An airship would be more conventional, and a good deal faster."

"Now, Alex! Listen here!" Silas exclaimed as though affronted, then went into lecture mode, as though he was imparting some sage wisdom to his subordinate. " An airship is so common, so everyday; it lacks the dignity and the style of a noble train! And a hero must always arrive in style.” While speaking, he made some grand hand gestures that were somehow supposed to help convey the point, and stared off into the middle-distance. Suddenly whirling back to Alex, he leveled a finger towards his subordinate’s face, an action that would have startled someone not used to his usual antics. “Store this away deep in your memory and never forget it, for words cannot convey how vital it is to the image of a hero! Besides," he added, settling back in his seat, "I highly doubt I'd have been able to get us on an airship for free."

***

They got off the train, stepping onto the platform in Serpentsdeep's city centre, blinking in the suddenly-dazzling light. Casting his eyes about for the source of the brightness, Alexander saw a pillar rising up from the square that marked the city centre. He looked up, and up, and up, craning his neck to see up to the top of the copper pole, which stood easily thirty feet in the air and glittered with what, he took a few moments to realize, were tiny wrought-copper serpents, and another, massive serpent of copper twining around the whole structure and looping back at the top. Well, I guess I know why it's called Serpentsdeep now, he thought.



A part of him wanted to just stand there, staring at the massive sculpture, basking in its glory. Another part of him suspected that there was some sort of magic embedded in the structure with the intent of causing that very reaction, and it was this part which forced his gaze back to the here-and-now, with a regretful sigh. "We should probably get over to the meeting place," he commented, knowing that as it was they would be among the last to arrive.

Silas cocked an eyebrow at the younger man, as another realization struck him. "Wait a minute," Alexander amended. "Do we even know where the meeting place is?"

As though on cue, no sooner had he voiced the question than both men seemed to find a mental pull, leading them in a direction which, presumably, would lead them to the meeting place.

Get out of my head, Mr. A, Alex thought irritably. Aloud, he muttered, "How does that guy even do that?"

"Bah! Who cares for pushy superiors at a time like this! EXCITEMENT AWAITS!” Silas animatedly pointed his finger to the sky as he shouted, drawing the attention of many confused passersby. “Hundreds of years from now, they will tell stories of how, on this day, the great hero Silas and his loyal lieutenant set out on their epic quest!” He clamped a hand on Alex’s shoulder and gestured dramatically out at the buildings before them. “But for now, look around you, Alex! It's the start of an adventure! A whole new city! A whole new WORLD!” Jumping forward, he turned back to Alex and motioned for him to follow, before whirling away and marching off, the crowd around him splitting to give the obviously crazy man a wide berth. “Come, we must explore this great metropolis! AWAY!" Silas began to disappear into the city streets, laughing loudly as he did so.

“Sir, we--” Alexander realized that, by the time he managed to get a word in edgewise, the colonel was already out of earshot. Giving up on the attempt, he ran after Silas, groaning to himself at the older man’s antics.

He finally caught up to him gazing through the window of what appeared to be a gun shop, based on a glance at the display in the window and the copper emblem of a serpent twined around the barrel of a gun which adorned the wall outside. “Sir, I think we should--”



“Alex! Perfect timing! Look, they’ve got a sale going! This is exactly what we need! You should always have a secondary weapon for field missions, especially great heroic quests like this one! This way!” Before Alex could get the sentence out, Silas had taken him by the arm and dragged him inside the shop.

The door of the shop swung open with a bang as the bells nailed to its top rang wildly. Making his grand entrance, Silas adjusted his favorite hat and dragged the reluctant Alex behind him without leaving an opening for protest. A glance around the shop told him that, in fact, no one was present save a short, stout shopkeeper. Perfect.

“Greetings! I take it you are the proprietor of this shop?” Silas didn't bother waiting for the man to respond. “Perfect! I've got a companion here who needs a weapon! Show be the best you've got!”

Alexander followed Silas, processing what the man had said a little too late. “You what? I... No I... don’t...” No one was listening.

The man, taken aback by Silas' loudness and lightning face speech, stuttered for a moment before composing himself and leading the way back to the main counter, motioning to where several guns hung along the wall. “Well, right this way we have-”

Silas unabashedly cut the poor shopkeeper off in an instant, beaming and grabbing one of the well-polished guns from the rack. “Ah! The revolver! Truly a marvel of modern engineering!” Before anyone could stop him, his thumb flicked back the hammer and he raised it into a one-handed firing stance, sighting down the barrel in the general direction of the front window. Of course, with a little sleight-of-hand, he had locked the safety in the on position as he moved, holding the gun in such a way so that it was invisible to the others in the shop. He also knew full well that the gun wasn't loaded, easily detecting the lack of weight.

“Sir! Please put that down at once! It's dangerous!” The shopkeeper began to step towards him as he spoke.

“Nonsense!” Silas, whirling faster than the startled and upset man had expected, turned to face him... without breaking his firing stance. “I'm very well trained! No need to fear!” Apparently, his reassurance wasn't worth much, as the shopkeeper squeaked in fear and darted to the side.

Alexander stepped forward, trying to at last get a handle on the situation. Reaching out to lay a hand on his commander’s arm, he said, “Sir, please. I... I think you’re scaring him.” A muscle twitched on his face. This is not funny this is not funny this is not funny don’t laugh, he told himself.

“Oh fine, fine. Really, you should relax. Look, he is just fine!” Twirling the revolver around in a fancy flourish, he spun it off his index finger, sending it soaring into the air and eliciting a cry from the shop owner, before catching it calmly and sliding it back onto the rack. The poor man began to sigh with relief, but was cut off as another gun caught Silas' eye. “Oho now! What is this? The latest model of rifle!” Snatching up that gun, a single shot, .22 caliber weapon, he brought it to his shoulder at once and began leveling it at various random locations in the shop. He glanced down at the weapon and pulled down on the trigger casing, snapping open the end of the barrel and revealing the loading mechanism. “Aha! I see! That's how it works, is it? Genius!”

Flicking his wrist once more, Silas appeared to draw something out of thin air with another application of sleight-of-hand, the small object glinting golden in the shop lights, and he at once slid what was apparently an actual bullet into the chamber, slamming it shut at once. Of course, the actual object had been a spent shell casing, he hadn't even inserted it into the weapon, and he was covering the active safety with his hand, but no one else knew that, as was apparent when the shopkeeper cried out frantically.

Alexander, trusting his boss this far at least, ran over to the storekeeper. “Don’t worry,” he tried to reassure the man. “Really. He knows what he’s--” He was cut off by the man pushing him aside impatiently, clearly not buying it.

Turning to level the gun at the man, Silas tilted his head innocently. “Were you trying to say something?”

“H-HELP!”

It was at that exact moment that a man who was quite obviously an officer of the law busted the door open with a mighty shout. “PUT DOWN THE GUN!”

Alexander buried his face in his palm. At this point, it was really all he could do.

Silas, grinning cheerfully, lowered the weapon immediately as he turned towards the door, but inside he was smirking smugly. Well, that was sooner than expected. Impressive.


***

They walked on, returning to the route to the meeting place, the slam of the shop door behind them still ringing in both their ears. The policeman made a polite motion of farewell as he headed off in the other direction.

Alexander cleared his throat. "Uh, Sir?"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees?"

"Sir," Alexander pointed out, not bothering to hide his perplexity, "What did you say to the police that could possibly have taken so long, or have had so fortuitous a result?"

“That,” Silas said, holding up a finger and assuming his usual lecture-mode stance, “...is a secret.”

Alexander sighed, as he realized that no further answers would be forthcoming. “You know, Sir, it wouldn’t have been necessary at all if you hadn’t caused so much trouble in the first place.”

"Alex, Alex, Alex," admonished Silas. "We are setting out in a foreign city, which knows nothing of us yet. We must always strive to make things happen, for the sheer sake of making things happen; it is positively our responsibility to ensure that our journey, and that of anyone we meet, will be an adventurous one."

Alexander turned his head to look at his commanding officer, and grinned. "With you along, Sir, I have no doubt that we won’t lack for adventure."

Without any discernible signal, perhaps some clockwork mechanism or hybridised magic, the screen on the wall flashed on, displaying the same man each of them had seen.

'Mr A'.

"Echo," he nodded in acknowledgement, eyes still off-screen, unseen, "I am glad each of you chose to respond. Time is precious, I shall be brief. You are Echo Team, a covert operating squad reporting directly to me. Those of you," he nodded unerringly at Alexander, Jaxon and Silas, "with military backgrounds, rest assured. The chain of command is merely.. bypassed. As of this moment, the chain," he smirked at the sniper, "consists of your team and I."

"This matter is grave. No doubt each of you have heard of the recent riots in Brotherhood territory. The media has downplayed them, but my agents assure me they grow in intensity. Intelligence has been received detailing a shipment of arms coming in to Serpentsdeep from the other side of the Great Lake, reportedly heading for the rebel centres."

"Stop the shipment. Find out when it's coming in, where it came from, track it back, find out who's financing it. You have a great degree of freedom in this, your modus operandi is entirely your own. However, stay low-key. I will be unable to aid you, should you be apprehended by the local authorities. You are not an official squad. Officially? This never happened. You don't exist."

"Should you require assistance in beginning this mission, locate one of my agents down at Bottle Street. An alchemist, by the name of Krista Crossrose. You may choose not to, of course, that is a matter of your own discretion. The ports would be a good place to begin. A final thing. I require one of you to be my communications relay."

Mr. A gestured to the small, inconspicuous earbud lying in front of the screen. "This will provide a direct line between us as well as allow me to keep track of your progress."

"Brothers and Sisters, I bid you courage. Stop the shipment. Find its origin. Find the rioters before this develops into an outright rebellion. The Brotherhood needs you."

The screen blanked out.

-

Right, now, volunteers! Drop me a message one way or another Also, you don't HAVE to go to the NPC. And you don't need to make a full round of posts before moving to some other place. Where the team goes, you guys direct. Have fun!

Chain didn't look up when more people entered the room. Spark was upset with her for not following her advice, but there was something scary about people. Chain couldn't bring herself to move or say a word. Can't we just run away? Get some food somewhere? Chain asked her anima.

Sparks started to speak, and was interrupted by a man appearing on a wall. He smirked at some joke he made. Yeah, we'll see how clever you are when I find you Silence! He's asking for volunteers. Glancing around, Chain saw the group of candidates, all staring at the now blank wall. No one moved, instead seeming to want to curl into the walls. A couple of them glanced at the door, seeming to weigh their options. weaklings Chain stood, and picked up the earpiece. "H-Hello?"

"Miss Chain, how kind of you. Don't worry, if your loyalty was suspect, I would never have chosen you. Your job is simple. Relay what I tell you to relay. If ever Echo requires my assistance, speak and I will hear. I'll direct you if the need comes, but I trust in your team's fine judgement." The man's voice filtered through the earpiece.

Chain glanced around the room. Everyone was staring at her. "Uh... I think we've got it for now." she gulped.

The man chuckled, "Have it your way, little link, I will speak to you at the next convenient moment for a status update."

"Well." Jaxon stood and stretched. "We're a team now, so let's get to know each other. If no one's going to say anything, I'll start. Jaxon Sidower, former army-medic. What're your names?"

Vegras stepped out of the shadows and looked at the group of people in the room. "Wow there are so many people here... and they are all still alive and healthy" Vegras pressed himself against the wall he had seemingly stepped out of. "I am not sure how to deal with this, I mean so many alive people in the same place is so weird, and alive and healthy..." he shuddered a bit and tried to remember what it was normal people did when they talked in a room. "Um...hi" he said with a small wave. "M...my name is Vegras, it is nice to meet you all... if um... any of you get hurt during the mission just find me and I will heal you up" when a few of them looked toward him he almost felt like curling into a ball so there would be less of him to see. He quickly pulled a hood over his head as to cover his head and obscure his face from sight. Or rather the mask that covered his face. He shouldn't have come here, the people shouldn't have put him on a team, he didn't know anything about teamwork or how one even teamed. Was teamed a word actually people used? He wasn't quite sure, but he really wished he could be back in that village taking care of his patient and not here surrounded by people.

As the picture winked out of existence, Silas continued to stare intently at the wall where it had been. Located in the back of the room, he had placed himself in a luxurious swivel chair upholstered with black leather, and he lounged in a manner that was, to all outside observers, exceedingly casual, his booted feet thrown up haphazardly onto the wooden desk before him, as he was accustomed to do in his office. However, within his head, his mind whirled, shuffling pieces of the puzzle around, shoving them into place, and then tearing them apart again, attempting to see how it all fit together. Fragments of information, troop movements, seemingly nonsensical orders and position assignments, and this mysterious figure outright bypassing the chain of command. It was all such a mess, and Silas didn't like where things appeared to be pointing.

Awareness of the awkward silence brought his mind to the matters at hand, and finally giving up on his previous train of thought, he focused on the room at large. After the request for a communicator, quiet fell. A few people shifted silently, then returned to their previous positions, his aide included. Silas himself considered for half a second whether he should volunteer himself, but a quick calculation later, he decided that there was too much of a risk that he would be denied. He might have been one of the best intelligence agents in the Brotherhood's pay, but his origin and methods were so suspect that he highly doubted he would be trusted, and being refused the position in front of his new team would make them suspicious of him. Despite the advantage the move would allow him to obtain, if it failed, he stood to lose much of his current standing before the mission had even begun. His consideration turned next to the young lieutenant shifting nervously where he stood beside Silas' new desk. If he put Alex in a position to relay the team's orders... No. It might work, but the stress on him, in addition to the pressure he already has due to his inexperience would be too much for him. I would only lose an effective asset in the long run. Besides, any attempt to manipulate information through him could end up causing him to become distrustful of me, and that would put me in an even worse location. He scanned the room once again, and sighted one person, an odd, dark-haired girl who hadn't moved since he entered, glancing furtively toward the communicator on the table, and read her intent easily. No, I think in this case, it is best to let the pieces fall where they will. Let the pawn take the burden, and save the more valuable pieces for when they are truly needed.

Sure enough, the girl moved for the communicator and placed it on her ear. While she spoke to what Silas assumed was the voice of their mystery commander, another man, the third person "Mr. A" had acknowledged as a member of the Brotherhood forces aside from Alex and Silas himself, stood and addressed the room. "Well. We're a team now, so let's get to know each other. If no one's going to say anything, I'll start. Jaxon Sidower, former army-medic. What're your names?"

Silas took care to note the exact phrasing of the man's words. Former? So then he resigned in order to join this team? The way he was referred to makes that likely. Regardless, Silas would have to keep a close eye on the man. Someone else with a military background could be troublesome to deal with. Determining that the best course of action would be to let someone else respond first, Silas waited a moment until a strange looking kid in what appeared to be some sort of gas mask stepped out of his shadowy corner and spoke with a halting voice, as you he was unsure of how to speak to people, or simply language in general. What hole did they dig him out of, and why is he here? His golden eyes scanned the boy, trying to glean some hint to his identity, but he could find none. Alex, despite his inexperience, holds some dangerous abilities. I wonder if this kid is the same. Something in the air as the boy moved made Silas feel a distinct sense of unease. I hate wildcards that aren't me.

When the young man finished, another awkward silence began to descend on the room. What a bunch of social butterflies. Fine.

With a bang that caused his lieutenant to twitch next to him, Silas loudly kicked his chair away from the desk with a black booted foot, jumped to his feet, and, in a voice so loud it was nearly shouting, began his proclamation to the room with a booming voice. "Well, who you are is all well and good, but I feel it's high time we got to the main attraction. Me." Gesturing to himself with much waving of arms and theatrics, he began the eternal play that was his public life once again. He could almost hear the groan Alex was holding back in his head, and that only caused his almost maniacal grin to get wider. "I, in addition to being your wonderful new leader and an all around amazing guy, am Colonel Silas of the Brotherhood Armed Forces! Well, I'm sure you, as citizens of the Brotherhood, have all heard of my greatness already, so I needn't introduce you to the tales of my exploits, which, I assure you, are many. Instead, I'll allow you to meet this young man whom I have so graciously taken under my wing! My Lieutenant and aide, Alex!" Motioning grandly to the startled Alex who was standing by him, Silas, still grinning, sent him a subtle wink, as though telling him 'You're up, kid.'

The young man rubbed his palms against his sides, banishing the curse he'd been absent-mindedly rolling between them before it could do any damage. He shot a panicked look at his superior-- receiving in return only a slight reassuring undertone to the man's manic grin-- before coughing nervously and introducing himself. "Alexander Taraumda. Uh. You can call me Sender."

He glanced quickly around the room, looking at faces without really seeing them. "M-mage." His mouth twisted around the word as though it pained him to use it; it did. "I answer to the colonel," he added, pointlessly, gratefully subsiding into silence and returning his gaze to the more extroverted man.