RP:Last of the Brave/Part 1

1
The two ghosts screeched across the plains, three blurs of purple careening across the seemingly endless fields of green, blue controls in their wake. The wind whipped at the ghosts and the long grass they flew over, the drivers battered by the gales. As they came to the edge of the plain, they squealed to a halt, airbrakes whining as they strained to bring them to a stop. Skidding up to the lip of a hill, a weathered Sangheili, stepped off his Ghost, looking over the site before him. In the valley bellow, a small town bustled with activity. Simple farmers coming and going, agricultural vehicles trawling the fields, small markets humming with activity. Surveying the town below, he rubbed his mandibles. “It looks like they’ve brought in the harvest. Telling Diamus to gather the men, we’ll storm it at nightfall.” He barked, one of the Kig-Yar following him immediately bowing his head and slinging a communications pack from his back. The other stepped off his Ghost, and took a step to the Sangheili, head bowed.

“My lord, we hit this town six months ago, we likely depleted most of their grain supplies then. We should wait until they bring in the newest harvest, then strike. More food for us.” He rasped, the Sangheili nodding in agreement

“Sage advice Rux. We’ll come back in a few weeks when they have the new harvest.” He said, mounting his ghost. With a bark and a hand gesture, they sped off, disappearing back down the plain.

At the edge of the hill, recently vacated by the brigands, three shapes stirred. Previously walking through the underbrush, they buried themselves when they heard the sound of distant engines. Two humans stood up, looking to the figure between them, a Sangheili man.

“What were they saying Alros?” one of them asked, wiping the dirt from his face

“Bad things my friend.... very bad things. We have to go back to the settlement, we have to tell the governor.” The Sangheili spoke in broad English, before leading

Inside Trickwood’s modest town hall, few things could be heard over the general commotion and panic. Most of the town’s population had herded in here, and were now in a state of panic. After the news broke that the bandits that had plagued their settlement for years would be coming back again. Most here had lived through one or more raids, and had lost property and family in their attacks. The commotion was broken by the sound of wood pounding on wood. The sound caught the attention of those gathered, who stopped talking amongst themselves and turned to the stage. A little old man sat there, back half bent over with age, his walking stick clutched in both hands. He was Malcolm Biseti. Most people around here referred to him as the governor, though given that they were an independent colony, no such official governor existed. He was just the oldest guy here, and age came with certain experience.

“These raiders are coming back far sooner than expected. Our stores are so low we might not be able to survive the winter months if we are raided again.” He began, before being interrupted by a concerned woman down front.

“We should just let them take the food! We can’t stand up against them!” she lamented, before being interrupted by a middle aged man next to her “And where will they stop! They’ll come into a warehouse, take our food, then into your homes to take your possessions and then. Then MElissia, they’ll go into the bedroom of your boys and take them for the slave camps!” he shouted, causing the woman to shrink back “We should take up arms! I bet we could buy some cheap firearms on the market, and fight back.”

“We’re farmers, not soldiers. Nobody here knows how to fight back. We’ll be killed and they’ll still take our food, our women and our children.” An older man began, almost coming to tears “Maybe we should just give in.... let them take the food, let them take us. At least when we’re slaves, we don’t have to fear the slavers.”

“Are you insane?!” Alros, the Sangheili, roared “No, I won’t give up my wife and child for these fiends! I’d rather fight to protect what’s mine!” be retorted, clutching his wife’s trembling hand

“Biseti, there must be something we can do!” one of the settlers pleaded.

The old man sat down in his seat on the stage and pondered for a moment.

“A few decades ago, I lived on an outer colony. We’d narrowly escaped the Covenant, but the UNSC had abandoned us. We were left at the whims of pirates, trying to raid us for supplies. I left our settlement as it burned, but I saw the one down the valley was fine. They hired mercenaries to protect their settlement. We need to hire mercenaries.” He said, reciting the story

“But we’re poor! We don’t have the money to hire mercenaries! All we can do is feed them and house them.”

“Then find hungry mercenaries. If we don't fight back now, there won't be a colony here next year.” He replied “We’ll organize who’ll go to find them in the morning.”

In the small field in front of their modest spaceport, three men stood alone, surrounded by a crowd. Alros ‘Mkhana tugged at the straps of his backpack, making sure they were tight enough, before something tackled his leg. His son hugged his leg tightly, refusing to let go. He petted him on his head and clicked his mandibles.

“Go back to your mother, little one.” He smiled

“No father, I want to go with you!” he cried

“But who will protect your mother if we are both gone?” he smiled

His son looked up to him, teary eyed, and nodded in a sort of understanding. He solemnly trotted back to his mother’s side and hugged her leg. His wife nodded to him. No words needed to be exchanged between the two.

Next to him, Callum Wright, the man who’d been so outspoken last night at the meeting, finished his final preparations, swinging his large bag onto his shoulders. He stood alone, none of the settlers approaching him for tear filled farewells, and his grim disposition and outbursts last night saw that most didn’t want to approach him at all. Behind them was their third, Lisbeth Fincher. She lived on one of the outlying farms, and was the oldest of the group. A life of hard toil left her looking weathered and older than the others. Lastly was their pilot, Jan Betruger, who’d be running them on his small shuttle. He’d ferry them to Fell Justice and drop them off, and return in a week to bring them, and any mercenaries they found, back to Trickwood. They packed a whatever food they could spare to feed their mercenaries until they could bring them back, plus a few personal supplies for themselves, though their own rations were mediocre in size. With a solemn farewell from the rest of the colonists, they loaded up and headed off. A day later, the small shuttle reached the bustling port of Fell Justice. Here mercenaries of every stripe met to do business, find work and congregate. If they were going to find any mercenaries, it would be here.

Or so they thought. Two days passed, and mercenaries had eluded them. Visiting a busy district, they attempted to find a mercenary to hire. The first meeting went badly, to say the least. Alros approached a Sangheili mercenary, attempting to request his aid, and the mercenary nearly cut him down on the street, there and then. Only begging for his life on his knees did he escape his wrath. They managed to find one many professing to be a mercenary, but the drunken slob ate most of their food and passed out on the bed in their squat. The three colonists were at rock bottom. Their task seemed impossible, and the fact of it was beginning to dawn on them. Despair would take them soon if they failed to do something.

The morning after, the three renewed their search, heading to an outlying district, hoping to find something, anybody. Going through a largely residential area, they came across a huge crowd. Attracted to the commotion, the three followed the crowd as they headed to a clearing next to the river. Alros, trying to push his way forward, asked a man towards the front of the crowd what was happening.

“Some thief took a child hostage in that shop over there. You can hear him crying.” The man pointed, before turning back to the centre of the crowd. “That Sangheili in the red armour, there, he said he’d save the kid.”

Alros looked over and audibly gasped. Sat down next to the river, at the centre of the crowd, was a Sangheili warrior, and as he said, he was clad in armour of the most brilliant crimson. Next to him was a Sangheili monk from the Path of Ascension. The warrior unclipped his armour, removing the heavy plates and exchanging them with the monk. The monk in turn, removed his vestments and few pieces of religious iconography, handing them to the warrior. Wright pushed his way forward and looked to Alros, his face trapped in an expression of awe.

“Alros, what’s wrong?” he asked, nudging his friends side.

“That warrior there, he’s a Crusader. I never thought I’d see one this far out.” He stammered

“A Crusader? What’s one of those?” he asked, looking back and feeling unimpressed

“I last saw one as a boy back on Sanghelios. They’re militant order, no ties to government or the military. They travel the length and breadth of Sangheili space, bringing justice and law to those places that have no, and finding corruption.” He said, in obvious reverence “I never thought I’d see one this far from the homeworld though.”

“So, is he some kind of cop?” Lisbeth asked, finally pushing forward

“In some ways, yes, and in others, no. They answer to no authority aside from the law of the land. Paragons of justice.”

They watched on as the Crusader finished donning the vestments of the priest, and walked over to the shop where the thief was hold up. The crowd, staying at a safe distance, watched as he took a bowl of food from a distraught woman, the child’s mother, and approached the shop. Stopping at the entrance, he kneeled down. Even past the crowd they could hear the child screaming and crying for help, and the thief telling the stranger to leave or he kills the child.

“I’m just a monk. I brought food for the child. There’s some here for you as well.” He said flatly, trying to appear non-threatening.

“No, stay back or the child dies!” the thief screamed, his curveblade pressed to the child’s neck.

“Please, just allow me to bring you food.” He said, taking a few steps forward. It was then Alros saw his body tense up, like a coiled spring.

He charged into the room, the entire crowd going silent. There were a few brief moments, where the only sound was the crying child, before the thief stumbled from the shop and collapsed, dead. The Crusader walked out with the child, handing him over to the mother. As the crowd gathered around the dead thief, the Crusader slipped through and returned to the monk, swapping their belongings. He didn’t stop for thanks or congratulations, and simply took his things and left. Back in the crowd, one woman watching with anticipation stood over the body of the thief, admiring the handiwork, before slipping out to follow the Crusader.

The Crusader headed off down the road, a ragged cloak masking much of his armour and weapons. The three colonists followed a fair distance behind, unsure of approaching him.

“Alros, you think he’d help us? He’s supposed to fight for justice and that, right?” Wright asked, frantically looking between Alros and the Crusader’s back.

“Yes, I suppose, we just need to be careful about approaching him...” Alros began, before being interrupted by a woman running past them.

Catching up to the Crusader, she stopped by his side, looking to him. The Crusader stopped dead, looking at her curiously. She walked around him, looking him up and down with a smile.

“I saw your handiwork back there. That was some mighty fine blade work on that thief.” She said, looking down to the energy sword hilt on his hip.

“And what of it?” he asked, looking at her

“You’re one of those Crusaders, right? Never seen one before.” She said, still admiring his arms and armour

“I don’t have the time to indulge you... if you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way.” He said, stepping past her. The woman frowned, and pushed one of her blonde bangs out of her face and turned around, storming off.

Once she was gone, Alros ran forward, and threw himself to the feet of the Crusader.

“Please sire, I beg you, we need your aide.” He pleaded, head pressed to the floor in his bow.

The Crusader looked down to the man, cocking his head in curiosity.

“I see.” He said, taking a deep breath of smoke from his pipe, and breathing out a cloud of sweet smelling smoke “Your plight is severe. I would not be honouring my Crusader code if I ignored your plight. How many brigands would you say they had?”

“Last time they attacked our settlement, they had a hundred... maybe more. They had one of those cruisers, from the war.” Wright said

“A CCS-class?” the Crusader asked

“Aye sire, one of those.” Alros replied

“Hmmmm. I’m not sure this is any problem I could fix alone. Such a battle would be suicide.” He said, contemplating

“You... you won’t help us?!” Lsibeth asked, shuffling forward.

“I never said that. But this is more than one man can fight. Even with my followers.....” he began

“There’s more of you?” Alros asked

“Only four of us, my retainers and my disciple. They travel with me. But We would need more.” He said, take a few deep breathes to stoke the embers in his pipe “Looking over your map of your town, I’d say we would need fifteen... maybe twenty... and we would have to arm your town folk too. Such a battle could only be fought with a force of similar size and strength.”

The others nodded in agreement, listening carefully to his every word “I haven’t fought in a true battle since I was a young man. Fighting criminals and cartels has kept my skills sharp, but this is something else all together. If you would have me, I would be willingly to help you recruit and lead more mercenaries.” He said, looking to each of them. They nodded frantically “Good. We’ll begin immediately.”

Wright prepared four meagre meals, setting them out on the mat, as their Crusader, Kambei, stepped through the doors, followed by three more individuals. Each bowed and introduced themselves to the Wright, Alros and Lisbeth, both of whom were present. Firstly, his disciple, Hakke, a very severe looking woman, and Talb, a fearsome looking man with scars on his face, and finally the one human in his party, a young woman called Jessica. They sat around the mat, eating their small meals. Behind them, Arlos prepared the last of the food, humming happily to himself.

“His disposition seems to have improved...” Kambei chuckled, looking over to him

“Finding you has renewed his faith that we can survive this...” Wright said, passing out a few bowls of seasoned beef to each of the present warriors.

“Good. We’ll need all we can get, and he’s a good natured young man, hopefully that will draw the more sympathetic in.” He said, picking up his bowl

“Do you think you can recruit mercenaries with promise of food and board?” Hakke asked, looking to the two colonists with intensity

“We don’t know... but it’s all we can hope for.” Wright said, looking down to avert his gaze

“Times are tough, and some may be tempted by the offer.” Talb said, the only words he said since entering the building.

Finishing up his meal, Kambei placed down his empty bowl, just as Wright finished his.

“Come Callum, we’ll travel into the city, and see if we cannot find more for our fight.” Kambei said, brushing off his helmet and tucking it under his cloak. Wright nodded hesitantly, finishing up the rest of his food and joining him.

The two stood on the side of a busy street, watching the people shuffling up and down.

“What about him?” Wright asked, motioning to a man in armour, with a weapon slung on his hips.

“No, he looks to be an enforcer, likely heading to a shake down. Not the sort of warrior we want, though he would likely never agree to help us anyway.”

“Um, what about him?” Wright said, pointing to a Sangheili warrior

“No, the armour is well furnished, and his armaments clean. He’s likely very prideful, and only takes well paying job. But see his unused sword on his hip? It’s for decoration, not use. He lacks the honour to even take such a task. He’d see it as below him.” Kambei said dismissively

“You can tell that at just a glance?” Wright asked, a little in awe

“Aye. Crusaders are not expected to go to a place and find injustice by chance. We must investigate, we must be able to look at a crowd and discern the guilty from the innocent at just a glance. Body language plays a lot into that.” Kambei began, before his attention was drawn away “I may have just found a worthy warrior...”

A woman walked out of the corner shop, a brown paper bag full of odds and ends in her arms. Taking a candy bar from the top of the pile, she tried in vain to eat it, but the bag slipped, forcing her to grab it. Sighing a little, she readjusted her posture and her grip on the bag, and walked out, heading down the street. Her walk was interrupted by a shout from behind.

“Of all the places in galaxy, I run into you on this backward cesspit!” she heard, forcing her to turn around to see a familiar face

“’Nerevar! I see you’re still fighting the good fight.” The woman smirked

“Ryuko Kawada! Still an insolent little rebel?” Kambei smiled, parting his mandibles

Ryuko opened one of his arms to hug him but paused, hesitating for a moment.

“You’re not still mad about me spacing that mook a few years back?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow

“Hmmm, well I was annoyed at the time, but he was going to be executed for his crimes anyway. As you humans say, its water under the bridge.” He said, opening his arms and hugging her.

“So what brings you here?” she asked, looking over to his confused looking compatriot “And who’s that guy, a new retainer?”

“Somebody in need of help. You’re still a mercenary, right?” He asked

“Yeah, when I can find the work. What’s the job, and since when did you get involved in mercenary work like this?”

“It’s a charity job. Their colony is about to be attacked by pirates, and they need mercenaries, but they can only pay them with food and lodgings.” Kambei said, relaying Wright’s plight onto her

“That’s a tough break. I feel for them... but I’m not sure I can do a charity job right now.” She said, her brow furrowing

“Not sure? How so?”

“I’m part of a crew now. They’re good people, and good brawlers too, but some of them are pretty cynical, and all of them are downright weird.”

“Then I imagine you were a perfect fit.”

Ryuko glared at him for that comment, and then shrugged it off. “I’ll go ask the captain if we can help... but.... I can’t promise nothing. Where should I bring ‘em?”

“Here’s the address.” Wright said, stepping forward and handing her a handwritten note.

Taking it, she gave it a look over before nodding “We’ll see what happens.”

(Now, first post done, let the RP begin! What I’ll do is, we’ll introduce a set of characters for every round of posting. So this round, Ryuko introduces Dunn, Stray, Zoey, Tal and Cassandra, So ASniper, Actene, Kes, you need to organise a post, or several posts between yourselves for them joining. Now, once this first set of posts is out of the way, I’ll start organising introductions for everybody else, so we can avoid confusion or stepping on each others toes. Don't sweat it, we should have everybody in a position to be introduced in a day or two.)