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| Scars; The Dojo Slayer - Medium Quest | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 8 2015, 05:36 PM (183 Views) | |
| Cooler | Jun 8 2015, 05:36 PM Post #1 |
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Experienced Member
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How many days had it been since they had begun analyzing the Saiyan data? It was hard for Kahran to tell considering one usually judged what was day by the restful nights that separated them. When you didn’t sleep, they all seemed to blend together. The High Commander of Shevat had been locked away in his personal quarters for hours. The majority of it was spent bouncing back and forth between two projects; the first, interpreting biological information gathered from his recent encounter with the Saiyan known as Raditz, and the second, was taking those interpretations and applying them to the creation of new technologies. And by “technologies,” the Paladins of Shevat meant weaponry. Kahran was a radical thinker amongst his peers. The common belief that was shared by all of Avalon was that they should do everything in their power to preserve the peace they’ve maintained for centuries. Kahran agreed but he also believed that they should be seeking out new ways to bolster their power in order to uphold that serenity everyone so coveted. There were powers in the universe that would not be so easily thwarted by sword and shield and not everyone in the circle recognized that. Leaning back from his desk in his silvered chair, Kahran squeezed his strained eyes shut while rubbing coarsely at the back of his neck. Behind the veil of his eyelids, all the Paladin could see were the haunting bits and pieces of information he had already been staring at for countless hours. He feared that if he attempted to catch a little sleep, the data would follow him into his nightmares—but that wouldn’t stop him from stealing a break from the grind. Kahran pushed away from his desk, which was occupied by two portable computers, the prototype framework of what appeared to be a gauntlet, and endless papers filled with handwritten notes. He gave the mess a final look as he finished rubbing the kinks out of his neck, fighting the urge to sit back down and work. He was on the precipice of something—he could feel it—but his mind was struggling against his will to go forward. What was it Ury always said? The road to absolute peace is a long journey meant for those with the patience to walk it. In the end, Kahran saw it best that he committed to the break he intended on taking. Upon exiting his room, he was assailed by the blinding light of a setting sun tucked away behind a jagged horizon. The blazing orange sun provided the perfect backdrop for the toothed silhouettes of the Lahan Mountains, which separated the Shevat region from the outlying reaches of the Cougon Plains. The entire scene was almost perfectly portrayed by the enormous portrait windows that made up the entire West facing wall of Shevat’s Headquarters. His eyes continued to follow the sun as it disappeared beyond the mountains as he made his way for the glass encased elevator. Kahran wasn’t too sure on his destination but figured that anything would be a distraction as welcomed as the fading sunset was. With each floor he descended, the sun inched away until he was on the ground floor and fiery giver of light was nothing more than a hazy aura illuminating the very edges of the mountaintops, which were now mostly obscured by the high rise buildings of the surrounding city. Ding! The sharp bell sounded him to the opening of the elevator doors behind him. Almost reluctantly, Kahran turned from the city scene before him to the chaos of the ongoing activity ever present within the public lobby of Shevat Headquarters. As the governing force within each region, the Headquarters acted as the central hub for any and all things Government related. Among them was the overseeing of Enlistment and Training for all future Paladins, which was a program that became exceedingly selective once Kahran decided to go against the standard grain of thinking. He needed Avalanians that thought as he did. While it was nice to recruit those who wished to uphold the peace awarded to them through the Old Ways, he couldn’t afford to associate with those who were strangled by them. After navigating through the many people who bustled about the main floor, Kahran made his way to the staging area where all Paladin training exercises took place. Immediately upon entering through the automatic doors, he was greeted by a shout alerting the others to his presence. “High Commander present! Form up!” As one well-trained unit, the recruits and the leadership training them snapped into place with a proper salute and rigid stance. At the head of them was Maris, who had been ordering about new recruits for as long as Kahran could remember. The man even had the pleasure of bossing him around at one point, when he was an impressionable golden eyed youth. At the back of them, merely as an observer, was old man Ury. There was never a man so stuck in the ways of old than Ury. The elder man, who was in no way fragile in any sense of the word, was one of the very building blocks upon which the foundation of Avalon was built upon. More than that, he was an integral part to the shaping of Kahran in his early years as a Paladin prospect. Just looking at the man had the High Commander instinctively toying with the emblazoned signet ring gracing the ring finger on his right hand. Kahran took a proper stance of his own, standing as straight and sharp as a nail ready to be driven, with his hands folded together and placed behind him at the small of his back. He concluded the formality with a simple nod before making his way around the recruits to join Ury at the back. Slowly, he uncoiled and with every bit of genteel he could muster, took a seat beside the old paladin in a plush chair fashioned for observers. “Ury, it’s a pleasure to see you. Why didn’t you send word that you would be gracing us in Shevat? I would have arranged all the treatment that was befitting of a man of your importance,” said Kahran while not yet making eye contact with the man who once served as his mentor. “You know I don’t like drawing attention to myself, Kahran,” said Ury, in a dry, almost growling voice. Ury was an unusual man to behold. While many Avalanians were tall and thin, Ury was of average height and broad in the shoulders and chest. He was as bold in size as he was in spirit. He wore a grizzly beard as white as fresh snow that was prone to knots and had more than his fair share of wrinkles beneath his dulled amber eyes. The cadence and language he used around the High Commander was one of familiarity and absolutely not befitting of a subordinate. Kahran allowed the behavior, however; he was once an active cornerstone of the Paladins in Kahran’s early days but due to age, he willing took a backseat to become more of an advisor. “I didn’t really think you would like what I would have to say, anyhow.” Kahran contemplated his answer but chose best not to insult Ury’s intelligence with sidestepping. “You’ve heard about my little project, I take it?” said Kahran, his hands now folded together with his left index finger tapping against his signet. This action was in no way the result of nerves but a force of habit instead. “Everyone has heard about it, son. Nobody knows what to think about it. The Council is up in arms after the last session. It’s not proper of a High Commander to make us old relics look like fools.” “You know what I said was true and you know none of the comments I made during the session apply to you, Ury. If half of the council was built with the same courage as you, I wouldn’t have had to say my peace.” Kahran kept his voice quiet, though he was struggling not to let his exasperation weasel in to his words. “I know, Kahran. I know.” Ury affirmed. As if sensing Kahran’s struggles, the old Paladin reached over and patted the younger Paladin on the curve of his knee. “What do you think? Am I way off base with my ideas? Granted, the Council only has the slightest hint of what I’m trying to achieve here. I—“ Ury quickly interjected. “You know how I feel. I served under the Paladins and kept the peace with sword and shield, like my predecessors before me. Many have tried to make slaves of Avalon before but by Ganr’s Hand, we have fought them back at every turn.” “Ury, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do. I’m ensuring we can maintain the peace for generations to come.” Kahran’s words came more calmly this time once he stripped any sense of emotion from them. “No, you’re trying to militarize the Paladins, Kahran. You’re trying to weaponize God.” [align=center]1,516 / 3,700[/align] |
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| Cooler | Jun 11 2015, 10:37 AM Post #2 |
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Experienced Member
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Back in his room, Kahran was fuming. The High Paladin furiously paced back and forth between the several rooms comprising his quarters until he ended up in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. He could see as his nostrils flared with each hot breath exhaled through his nose. He witnessed how the usual pallor of his smooth face had been overtaken by blood red. He could watch as the pulsating vein running across his right temple throbbed with anger. It was not a very becoming look for one so highly ranked among the Paladins. Weaponizing God? What did Ury know anyway? Didn’t he understand that Kahran was just trying to protect the world he had fought so many years for? This idea he had—to arm anyone with the power to rival even the most gifted in the Universe—was a means to an end. The threats Avalon faced today were not the same that Ury faced so many years ago. They were worse—far worse. As dedicated to their studies as Paladins were, they simply were not equipped to handle the danger that lurked in the darkness beyond the stars. However, this was Ury. This was a man who has been with the Paladins since before Kahran was born, who also served as his mentor from the moment he had been accepted into their ranks. Surely, he had some logic behind his opposition that Kahran wasn’t seeing? He was a man as wise as he was stubborn, so what realm did his opinion fall in this time? Perhaps Kahran could not see past his shortcomings. As gifted as he was of mind and skill, he lacked any sort of connection to the energy within him and the world around him. Strong, athletic, and well trained, he just did not have the power of the life behind him to contend with the likes of uncivilized heathens like the Saiyans, who were so naturally gifted yet squandered their abilities on ravaging galaxies. Just the simple thought of those despicable monkeys made his blood boil. The culmination of so many infuriating notions was Kahran’s fist smashing into the mirrored reflection vehemently glaring back at him. The mirror splintered and fragmented in all directions underneath the swift violence of his tightly balled hand, rendering his image into hundreds of pieces. The sink became a catch for the aftermath; a menagerie of blood and reflective shards. A piece of the mirror had bit into his hand deeply but the wound itself was superficial when you took into consideration the advanced healing technologies Avalon provided. Kahran’s anger vented simultaneously with the release of blood that pooled before him. Sometimes, a little pain went a long way to peel your mind off of the clinging thoughts that overwhelmed you. [align=center]465 1,981 / 3,700[/align] |
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| Cooler | Jun 11 2015, 01:26 PM Post #3 |
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Experienced Member
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A while later, Kahran was once again sitting at his desk, toiling with the framework gauntlet that previously resided on his desktop. Currently, the crude contraption was wrapped about his right hand and forearm, being held in place by a telescopic arm clamped to the side of his desk. Once he was able to adjust the size and fit of the device, the Paladin was able to free his hand from the vice and proceed to tinker around with both hands—a feat that was exceptionally difficult when one of them was encased in blood-soaked bandages. It was probable that his hand would scar if he didn’t properly attend to it shortly but in reality, what was another scar when you were already blemished by so many? The thought alone caused Kahran’s unwounded hand to seek out his chest, where it smoothed over an unseen mark beneath his regulation Commander’s shirt. It was a mark that would always serve as a reminder to his first encounter with the Paladins and the sole event in his life that started him on the path that brought him to where he is now. [align=center] Cougon Plains 14 years ago… - - - - [/align] “No!” Kahran screamed, long and hard, until the air left his lungs completely. What escaped him was a hellish cry that was both barbaric and tormented, as he watched the body of a lavender haired girl slump almost lifelessly to her knees. Kahran was in the motion of scrambling over the lip of a rocky ledge when he watched her collapse; she was no more than a few yards before him. The girl continued her defeated descent, crumpling completely onto unforgiving bed of rock beneath her. Under her limp body, a pool of dark crimson blood began to form but was greedily sucked up by the thirsty, porous stone upon which she rested. Before her stood a Changeling with a body of pale white and midnight blue; his hand was outstretched and still smoldering. Kahran would never forget his face. That arrogant smirk. Everything he was feeling at that point was dulled by his anger. He was intoxicated with adrenaline, which helped in taking the edge off of the emotional pain that threatened to overtake him. Despite the climate, Kahran was running hot. He could feel his fever burning up the air around him. The only sounds coming from him were animalistic, a combination of his ragged breaths intertwined with inconsolable growling. He was a boy of fifteen watching his best friend—his only friend—die. Just out of the fallen girl’s reach was her sword. She had been disarmed. Kahran’s golden eyes frantically switched between the Changeling and the sword. Her sword. He didn’t even think about it, his body merely reacted on its own. Before he could even recognize what he was doing, Kahran scrambled over the ledge and to the sword. He wrapped his fingers around the weapon’s dusty grip, hard, and charged the Changeling at full speed. Kahran raised the sword above his head in both hands. Before he could complete his swing, a flat beam of energy tore through his unprotected chest. The attack sliced clean through his body, exiting out his back and continuing across the Cougon Plains without any opposition. Kahran only blinked as his body shook, not yet realizing what had come to pass. The scene taking place was almost a replica of the one that played before it—Kahran now being the one falling to his knees, drained of vitality, at his enemy’s feet. He remembered that moment quite vividly. He couldn’t comprehend what was going on but he felt weak and delirious. On his knees, he looked around through blurred vision, his eyes staring in whatever direction his head weakly bobbled. In the confusion, he found the Changeling’s face and again, he saw that smile. That wretched, disgusting smile. He found it and he locked his failing gaze onto it intently. His fingers curled around the hilt of her sword. Suddenly, in one quick movement, he lifted the sword from the ground and thrust. The neatly sharpened blade easily ran through the Changeling’s throat and out the back of his neck. Deep burgundy blood immediately ran down the blade and onto his hand. Kahran watched, his face twisted in anger, as the Changeling’s own expression mutated from confidence to horror. The boy fought against the dark sleep creeping into his head just long enough to watch the life fade from behind the Changeling’s eyes. After that, there was only darkness. He awoke some days later in the Hospital infirmary located in the Capitol, Avalon City. Miraculously, the attack he suffered missed all of his vital organs and arteries. He would only be left with a nasty scar for the rest of his days. That scar, however, was nothing compared to the one that would forever haunt his memories. [align=center]- - - -[/align] The Changeling he killed that day was one wanted by the Paladin Order for the murder of their fledgling recruits. He had murdered seven of them in total. She was the seventh. Kahran made sure she was the last. Since that day, the Paladins took interest in him. He was an untrained lad who had bested a monster that had taken seven of their own. There was a hole in Kahran after that incident and he didn’t exactly know how to fill it. Without her, his life had lost a lot of meaning. Another opportunity presented itself along the way and he ran with it, which led to him meeting Ury and the rest was history. [align=center]932 2,913 / 3,700[/align] |
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| Cooler | Jun 11 2015, 05:28 PM Post #4 |
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Experienced Member
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After several hours and several changes in fabrication, Kahran stood within the center of a basement facility found multiple floors underneath Shevat Headquarters. He was marveling at the piece of equipment fitted on his arm that looked, more or less, like a mechanical gauntlet. One by one, he moved his fingers within the high-tech glove and watched as colorless metal fingers of the gauntlet bent to his will. The room around him was filled with computers, machinery, and personnel; the latter of which was standing around the High Commander, aweing over the fruits of their labor. Once his initial excitement over the rather generic piece of tech wore off, Kahran sobered up. The gauntlet itself was nothing more than a glorified construction tool if it couldn’t do what it was designed for. Quickly, he searched through the faces surrounding them until he found the head researcher in charge of analyzing, interpreting, and fabricating a method of using energy similar to the Saiyans. “Balthasar, what have your efforts wrought? Were you able to ascertain anything from your studies? You said you were close the last time we spoke.” Kahran’s words were flavored by a bit of excitement. “Ah,” Balthasar paused. “Yes, High Commander. We have something..” Kahran’s armored hand closed into a tight fist. The mechanisms working within the gauntlet were soundless. “It’s not what we’re hoping for as our final product but we believe it is a step in the right direction. We haven’t quite—“ Balthasar paused again, then quickly shook his hands in front of him and stepped off toward an adjacent room. “It’s better just to show you and explain as I go. One moment please.” Moments later, Balthasar returned pushing a cart bearing several other pieces of equipment but the largest eyesore was the backpack sized battery sitting on top. The cart was pushed to Kahran and Balthasar quickly started in on dressing the High Commander with the battery pack, weaving his arms into the straps and tightening it to his back. Another researcher, an assistant of Balthasar’s, stepped up and started hooking Kahran up to the electrodes attached to the battery, as well as connecting up the mechanized gauntlet via several thick corded wires. “We haven’t been able to perfectly simulate the creation of energy exactly like the Saiyan’s but I think we’re close. We just need to run more trials and figure out how to more appropriately tap into the body’s natural abilities. In the interim, I believe we can simulate what we’re missing through battery backup. Keep in mind, the equipment will be using your body’s energy; the backup will just be supplementing what you can’t produce.” The final connection was established with the gauntlet. A visual readout embedded on the forearm indicated the device was powered. “As a side note: There are many fighters on Earth that possess the ability to channel “ki,” as they call it. Their abilities are deeply rooted in martial arts and meditation.” “Some of us lack the inner peace to find harmony in the Universe. Let’s stick with finding a scientific solution.” Kahran solemnly stated. With great and coincidental timing, the hallway doors parted and Ury stepped through. His pace was deliberately slow and his presence was met with many salutes and honorary bows. His presence was well known, as was his history with the High Commander. Kahran was aware of his former mentor’s presence immediately and watched him with those sharp golden eyes as he descended a set of stairs to join the High Paladin on the main floor. Ury gave one look at the monstrosity of wires hooked up to his protégé and quietly waited for acknowledgement. “Come to chide me some more, Ury?” Kahran coldly questioned as he went about checking the connections of the devices hooked to him and his gauntlet. “No, boy—Kahran,” Ury said, correcting himself. “I came to apologize. I know what drives you and I let my hold on the old ways get in the way of seeing that. Deep in my heart, I know that you only mean well for Avalon. I know how important it is to you to protect everyone. I just don’t know if this is the way.” Ury’s words tugged at something deep inside Kahran but he didn’t let it overwhelm him. He suppressed it while shoving it back down into the depths where it lurked. Ury was obstinate and at this point, Kahran wasn’t sure he would ever change his ways but he wouldn’t let that stop him. He would move on and he would progress with his desires because yes, as Ury stated, there were reasons why he wanted this that went beyond his overall good demeanor. He wanted to make sure that everyone—whether they were an aging warrior without the strength to hold up a sword, or a helpless fifteen year old boy—had the strength to fight back against those who threatened them. “It is the way, Ury. This will be my way, and I will walk this road as long as it takes whether Avalon stands behind me or not.” Suddenly, Kahran turned upon his heel and moved to cross the short distance that separated him from a nearby wall. His armored hand once against balled into a tight, machine-aided fist and was thrust at the brick and mortar that blocked his way. A split second before his fist connected, his body convulsed with a shock as energy was siphoned from him into the gauntlet, which in turn illuminated only momentarily with a surge of overcharged energy that exploded upon impact. The wall was devastated. A hole the size of a man remained after the high powered punch, as wide as it was tall and nestled among smoldering debris and clouds of dust. On the other side of the wall, a group of researchers stood completely dumbfounded, looking back at Kahran, Ury, and the rest of the team through the hole. Kahran, panting a bit from the rapid draining of his energy, turned back to Ury before stumbling and falling to his knees. “It works..” he murmured. Slowly, an exhausted smile perked the corners of his weakened mouth. What he said next was practically indecipherable to all but Ury, who didn’t know what to say in response. “It works. Hahaha. Finally, Miang, it works.” Kahran collapsed completely, fainting. Several of the team rushed to address the fallen High Commander, with the exception of Balthasar, who remained besides Ury while jotting down some quick notes. “Well, it looks like we have some calibrating to do.” [align=center]1,085 3,998 / 3,700[/align] |
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