Day One

It was just another day on the island, and hot and steamy were yet another understatement that could define this tropical hell that Captain Brasik found himself on. The heat, the bugs, hell... even the wildlife could only add to his misery, but they all paled in comparison to the misery he now saw standing before him. What was he supposed to do? He'd asked for soldiers for this command, soldiers he could've been proud of, soldiers that would've followed his every command... such as the all important and near holy command of *KILL IT, KILL IT NOW!*, but no all they'd dained to send him were these sorry lot. Would his punishment never end? Hadn't he sacrificed enough? I mean come on! So he killed the wrong guy, it happens, but shouldn't some consideration be given unto his past deeds? Once, Brasik had been considered a big time war hero... and their going to just dismiss that because of one small tiny mistake in identity?

But what was done... was done, and he'd better just get on with it all and be done with it. " Welcome to the Wyrm'sh headquartersh, known as Wyverln's Keep, it ish from here... our bashe of operations that we will launch oll attacksh againsht ourl hated rlival and enemay. The sho called and arrogantly named Bloodfang's, pershonally I like ta jusht call them muutt's... or mongrael mutt's depending on my mood. My name ish Captain Alishtair Brasik, I'm the rlanking officer here at Wyverln's Keep and the man who hash been choshen ta lead the Wyrm's to victorly. You need not worry, I asshure you. You have made the rlight choice, the Wyrm's are eashily the superior force on thish island and it will onlya be a matter o' time before ourl enemy ish crushed beneat ourl arlmored boots.

Now, shtow yurl gear, get a bite to eat, then get yurl arse on the wall... ya never know when the mutt's might trly somethin' when we'rle not looking. Oh... I almosht forgot.... be shure you kill anything that movesh. Even if it'sh not a good for nuthin'... no good excushe Fang'... you might've just kelled our dinner! "

"Well fuck." Were the first words out of Tyrus Reed's mouth when he saw that the commanding officer of the Blood Fang had decided to drown himself in the outhouse. Being the only surviving member the duty to properly bury the commander fell to him. Not really caring for his CO however he decided that it'd be easier to just burn the outhouse with the body still inside. The outhouse had barely began to burn before Tyrus was going through the old commander's things. Taking what few articles of clothing weren't caked in mud, dirt, piss, and blood for himself. Rifling through the commanders mail he found a letter regarding reinforcements, which according to said letter would be arriving within a few short hours. Taking the letter with him he made his way up to the watch tower and waited for the boat.



To his anguish the first boat that he saw carried the Wyrm flag and markings. "What the fuck!?!? GODDAMN IT! CAN'T WE GET A FUCKING BREAK?!?!!? OH my god they're probably all elite troops or something. DAMN IT!! Our guys better get here soon or we're toast!" It was only a few minutes before his wish came true. The boat carrying his salvation had appeared on the horizon and was heading to the dock.


"We were supposed to be receiving six men.... WE'VE LOST SIX MEN YOU ASSWIPES!!! SIX!" He yelled at no one in particular. With his Commander dieing, His only hope of ever making it off the island alive dashed against the rocks, and the smell of burning flesh and feces filling the fort it wasn't really a stretch to say that his first day as commander of the Blood Fangs was a bad one.. And it had only just started.

Fy'at stared at Brasik for a long while, his wolf-like ears pressed flat against his head. He folded his arms and lowered his head further into his jacket the hell was i thinking he thought to himself as his red eyes glinted as he looked up at the captain, his ears still pressed back against his head. A small while passed before Fy'at found a good oppertunity to speak his mind, a feature which, got him into quite a bit of trouble back during the days when he served as an assassin for the Kytees. "Look, Brasik, was it?" he said after letting out a sigh and shifting his stance so he lened more on his left leg, whilst sliding the right slightly out to the side, "I don't know how you did things here before, but just sitting around waiting for the enemy to attack is a bad idea. Why not try infultrate, or scout the area and find weaknesses that could be used and exploited in our favour?" he said in his usual quiet, calm yet sly-sounding voice. he unfolded his right arm from its previous situation and motioned with it as he talked. "For instance, i could very easily scout any area i was assigned to, as well as bring back detailed information if you would so wish it." he said with a sly smile, the true purpose behind his words however, was so that he could just get out of the camp and get a good look of the area for himself... and hopefully spot a nice little niche for him to dissappear to when he felt like it. "I mean lets face it," he continued as he folded his arms yet again and pitched his ears forward, eager for a responce, "Not all of us here are built for sitting on our asses all day shooting at clumps of dirt in a swealtering heat such as this."


--


Revier gripped at the back of his hood with his right hand. As his fingers wrapped themselves around the fabric he yanked it back, revealing his full face. Without a hint of thought he brushed his black hair away from the back of his neck before replacing the hood. "Phew man!" he said as he walked casually up the path to the Fangs base. He had taken a 'detour' that had lead him through a patch of thick bush on his way towards the base. he paused before he said anything more and watched as a boat pulled into dock. Revier crouched and dissappered into the scrub around him. the only reason he and his 'friend' weren't on said boats is because they had actually arrived a day sooner via a Kytees drop... mainly because they couldn't wait 24 hours to get rid of the two troublemakers and instead quite literally just dropped them onto the island without further reference of paperwork. It had actuallt been their hope that they had killed each other before they were even able to get to one place or another.
Revier snapped back to the current situation and continued to watch the boats. A short moment passed before he tore himself from the sight of the boats to the encampment itself. Reviers eyes scanned the base for any movement, before quickly noticing someone watching the boats with the same avid attention he had payed a few moments ago. Revier decided ,mostly out of boredom, that this perticular indevidual was of enough importance to him, at this moment in time, to pay a visit to. Revier grinned and made his way effortlessly and silently through the scrub and up to the high wall of the base. From his point of view he regarded the wall as a perpetual jungle-jym as there were enough holes, gouges, footholds and handholds for him to get up with ease. Without a moments hesitation Revier made his way up the wall and up the tower with the same speed he used stalking through the shrub.
Reviers heartrate quickned as he reached the roof unnoticed. he barely managed to hold in the manic laughter as he hooked his hands on the edge of the roof and threw himself over so he appered upside down before the man he had watched a few short moments before, his face close enough to Reeds so that he could feel his breath on his face, "Well Howdy!!" he said with a broad grin as he retained his peculiar position "This where i sign up?" he said in a slightly yet almost unmistakeable mellodic tone.

Standing at the prow of the boat, Don allowed himself a small groan as the Island drew closer, absent minded swatting at some unspecific insect biting his neck. “Can I go back to the Gallows please?” The former bandit whined. On his wrists he still wore the shackles that he had been incarcerated in, albeit with the chain between them broken so that only one link hung from each shackle, turning the objects of restrainment into a branding, telling the world that the man was a captured criminal.
Originally Don had worn them gladly, thinking of them more like trophies showing he had escaped death at the hands of an executioner. Now his mind was changing. “Or at least can I go back to my cell? It was cool in there. And I wasn’t being eaten alive by bugs.” He continued sourly, slapping another of the tiny biting monsters away from his neck. Then he scratched at his stubbled chin thoughtfully. “Shame there was no booze there. I wonder if there’ll be any booze here.”
Don shifted uncomfortably, the heat getting to him; Don being a man use to a more tepid climate. His chainmail shirt chaffed painfully against his skin, even through the sweat drenched linen undershirt. “Is this island Hell itself? Maybe I did die on the gallows and this is the afterlife.” Don muttered under his breath. By then the ship had come into range of the beach and the smell from the burning out house drifted over on the sickly warm breeze, causing Don to almost gag. “Ugh, I’m sure Hell would smell better than this.” He said grimacing. “What did I do to deserve this shit” He muttered then paused in through. “Well...aside from the looting, pillaging, murdering and robbing... dammit.”
As the ship pulled into the pier, Don leapt from the prow before the ship had stopped moving and landed gracefully on the wooden planks of the pier. “Well... Now I’m here. Time to find my Commanding Officer.” He said, adding a sarcastic tone to the last couple words and started to head down the pier. “He’d better have some drink”

Cyrian regarded the man that called himself Captain ‘Alishtair’ Brasik with a look of extreme disinterest. “Yesh Captain Alishtair, Shir” Cyrian responded sarcastically to the Captain when he finished his speech, adding a mock-salute. Then he cocked his head to one side, listening to the tattooed wolfish creature and studying him at the same time. Back in civilisation, Cyrian had made quite a few enemies, the type of whom that would be more likely to hire an assassin than to sully their own hands. Therefore, Cyrian had put in the effort to make a study of various assassin groups. Now the studying paid off and he smirked to himself. “Clan facial tattoo. Real subtle. Like a Warhammer ” He murmured under his breath, though not quite enough for it to be inaudible.
Clearing his throat, Cyrian turned to Brasik, now finished with his first, sceptical evaluation of his new comrades and was readying to put his thoughts on the situation forward. “Agreed with the Wolf-boy. After the ship ride here, I really need to stretch my legs. Sentry duty isn’t my kind of thing, especially in an isolated cesspit like this island.”
He paused to lick his lips, which were drying in the heat of the day. “Scouting would be unnecessary, though, as the... assassin here was so forth-right to suggest. I’m sure that you’ve been here long enough to map the area, Captain? And by area I mean beyond the walls of this ‘Keep’. It’s not like the Island is that big in any case.” He paused again, his expression thoughtful as if ticking off a mental checklist “oh, and of course, I trust you know already the location of the enemy... these ‘fangs’ base, as well as the amount of them here on the island? You must have done something to occupy your time before our arrival. How long have you been here, after all?” He finished, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at the Captain.

A large ship was sailing through the waters. In the distance, a tropical island could be seen, gettling larger and larger with every few minutes. In the ship's lowest deck, a hodded figure, completely chained up, was sitting in a still position on a wodden chair, surrounded by the bars which make up what appreaded to be a cell. The chains and bars occasinaly make a faint glow, suggesting they're enchanted. Apart from the sounds of the sea, and the occasinal rat sqeaks, it was quiet on deck. But that was mostly because the figure was the only prisoner onboard.
"Land ho!" shouted someone from the top deck. The robed man raised his head and looked outside the small circular wooden window, that was his only source of light. He saw the island and murmured "So this is the place I'm being sent to? Bah i hate these places,it's so hot! Why can't they ever exile someone to a tundra or some other frozen place...Oh well."
By the time the ship was but a few yards away, footsteps started coming down to the cells. When the sounds stopped right infront of the enchanted cell, the robed man slowly rose his head to see who was there. There were two men. One was wearing a uniform and holding a good quality cutlass in his right hand. THe other man was wearing torn and somewhat dirty clothes, a rag over his hair. He had several scars on his face and hands. In his hand he held a key ring with many rusty keys on it.
"Well Kyran, we're here. Hope you liked your litle trip" said the captain in a mocking tone. "I just hope the Commander knows what he's doing. He should've killed you back in your lair, instead of going to the trouble of hiring ten skilled wizards to restrain you in your enchanted chains."
"I guess he has a soft spot for me" said Kyran in a mennasing tone with a slight chuckle. The captain frowned and ordered the the sailor next to him to open the cell. As soon as Kyran stepped up, two armored guardsmen came down to the cell as well. Each grabbed Kyron by his hand and escorted him outside the ship, follwed by the captain.
"Gentlemen, is theis necessary, we haven't even met yet" jokingly said Kyran and he gazed at both guards by his sides. They simply ignored him.
A few minutes later, Kyran was escorted outof the ship, and onto the dock. The robed man looked up and saw a keep with a blue flag, and a dragon like symbol on it.
"Welcome to your new home, enjoy your stay, and i hope you rot here for an eternity" said the captain, as he was in a hurry leave the island. He quickly unlocked the chains and and went as fast as he can to the ship. As they boarded the ship, they removed the small platform used to get on the ship. The captain reached down and into some chest, and took out an object, wrapped in cloth and threw it at the dock. As it hit the ground, the cloth fell from it, revealing the object to be a staff made of bone with a skull for a headpiece, covered in dried blood. Kyran cracked his knuckles and picked it up.
"Well, time to get acquainted with my new friends" said Kyran to himself as he walked towards the keep.

Admin Note* I've locked this down as I don't feel like starting this particular storyline up again. Instead I'll be making an entirely new one in a new thread. See you there!