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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
8881
   |
Posted - 2014.03.25 21:41:00 -
[1] - Quote
It was cold as the pair entered the room.
The Templar garbed in his traditional roughspun tunic and leather breeches, an otherwise forgettable ensemble save for a single redeeming part. In traditional fashion Kador wore his crimson sash, denoting his status as a Templar Crusader of the Amarr Empire, however not the sash had been modified. Where once it was a plain silken fabric it new iteration had been adorned with elaborate golden stitching in the pattern of flames.
His green eyes scanned the room briefly, partly disinterested, partly concerned, but decidedly hollow and sunken. With a tired sigh he ran a single sunbronzed hand through his mid length dark hair. His features were classically Amarrian, there was no mistaking that.
Deep lines in his face that signified he would soon pass from his youthfulness into his elder year, where is experience and wisdom would be respected amongst his peers.
Beside him, somewhat overshadowed by his bulk came a younger woman, probably some years his junior. Unlike her master however she was something of a genetic melting pot. Features of Vherokior mixed with Brutor to form and oddly elegance face. A dark skinned heart shaped face, full lipped, strongly defined cheek bones, a petite nose and ears, long raven black hair combed over oddly, dangling down over her right shoulder concealing it from view.
She certainly wasn't classically beautiful. She was thin....stringy by most standard and well muscled, lacking any significant female curves or attributes. A slight scar ran across the bridge of her nose, long healed, but pale and noticeable enough to ruin the otherwise perfect symmetry of his face.
She wore similar garb. Simple white roughspun fabric that was loose and androgynous over her thin...almost stringy frame. Simple dark leath breeches and matching thigh high boots. Around her neck was a simple choker of silver, inlaid with flecks of golden Amarrad script.
"This way Satja" Kador's voice sounded formal, though not unkind.
The pair took a table close to the door, the woman offering the Templar as seat before taking her own.
The Templar buried his head in his arms and within the space of a minute quietly slipped into unconsciousness, with the Matari woman sitting dutifully over him, looking away every couple of seconds reading from a small scarred copy of Pax Amarria.
"Get thine Swag out of my face! Next you'll be writing #YOLOswagforJamyl in all your posts!"
-Dagger Two
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
8939
|
Posted - 2014.03.26 21:10:00 -
[2] - Quote
He is just dozing. He had intended to remain awake until the briefing.
As soon as his head hits the glass of the desk the weight of his eyelids is undeniable and he slips into a a few blissful moments of rest. He is very much awake of movement and voices around him but they are a meaningless rhythmic hum.
"Hey Kador!" Galm shouted, looking away, "Heard about what happened down there with those blood raiders. I mean... Who hasn't? Everyone on Yulai was talking about how much of a clusterf**k that turned out to be."
The mention of his name draws him back into the room in time of hear the rest of the halfbreed's condescending remark.
He blinks away the fatigue and gazes quickly around the room. Denak is there....a wonder he did not see him before.... Lord help him he was tired. Then Ermac, the youthful looking Caldari he had fought beside at the tank laager, the pair crippling the initial response time of the Blood Raiders armoured units.
Then those dull green eyes came to rest of Galm, hardening to chips of ice. He let out a long dismissive yawn.
Beside him Satja was tense. She'd never liked the man, something about certain immortals terrified her in a manner perhaps he did not or could not ever truly understand. And truely Kador disliked the man. He certainly did not hate him....but his mannerisms.... and what he had done.
He supposed it was no secret that his.....woman....had become immortal... no doubt on this cowards request. Had he selfishly destroyed her soul out of something so primal and base as fear? He supposed he would never know. All he did know is that he would never be so weak as to allow another to damn themselves in God's eyes.
The man was nothing special to the eye.....He appeared to be shorter than the Caldari, if he could call him Caldari at all, he was familiar with, messy auburn hair. He hard the look of a fighter. Harder than most men, but that was not something one would easily discern, it was a characteristic in the way a person carried themselves, a certain confidence, or arrogance, a look in the eye that bespoke violence.
The Templar hated Galm's eyes. The augmented irises that seemed to change hue simply irked him on a personal level.
Beside him, at his shoulder as if watching over him he considered somewhat abashed, somewhat flattered, was Satja, tense, biting back a remark and her lip. Again he found this oddly flattering. Amongst slaves he did not know of many who would defend their master regardless of circumstance.
She made to turn, unable to keep back he comment, but he stopped her, placing a reassuring hand on her exposed shoulder. As she whipped back, intending to round her frustration on him for a momment, the precisely combed hair slipped over her should explosing long ropy scars, and a section of burnt flesh that ran up he neck.
Her eyes widened for a momment in surprise, and she quickly brushed the hair over her shoulder. Perhaps she meant to take a knee before him and ask forgiveness, because she tried, in vain, to twist out of his grip.
"Sempre Pax little one" He said kindly, before continuing, not even deigning to respond to Galm directly. "Give the man no credence....and man judged unworthy to accompany us as a brother or as our equals deserves not our time."
With that he turned to the others.
"Ave Denak, Ermac it is good to see you both again. I am well met again"
Then to Galm.
Ave my..... "Caldari" friend.... Blessings be upon you."
"Get thine Swag out of my face! Next you'll be writing #YOLOswagforJamyl in all your posts!"
-Dagger Two
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
9033
|
Posted - 2014.03.29 11:20:00 -
[3] - Quote
Once again Kador was reborn into the world, his fleshing knitting together as thousands of nanites composed his very physical being in an instant. It was a gift from God to be able to be reborn time and time again reaffirming one's Faith, their vows of duty and service, and their very existence, and one that he most certainly did not take for granted.
It was odd to consider in the very moment he became aware of himself that he was nothing more than a swirling mass of nanites, the soft and fleshy organs that formed the being he was, and that as his mind raced to the simple realisation of exactly what he was, that his features were being formed as one might shape clay for a sculpture. As his body neared completion a single sublime arc of pain raced up his spine as the drop suit melded with his spine.
He preferred it that way, many clones disliked the fusion of the Dropsuit into their bodies on such a fundamental level, either due to the invasive, and constantly self affirming presence of the spinal link, or perhaps the pain of the initial connection, which he was told, by those who rarely used such methods, was extremely painful.
However the armour was heavy.....heavier than it had felt during the Bloodhunt. It was as if his limbs are stone, his shoulders were stiff and unresponsive, his neck cracked as he rolled it about in an arc. It was an oppressive weight to be sure, something he was not familiar with.....but that was nothing before the majesty of the Ak.0 dropsuit.
His own personal temple, a temple that housed the very physical manifestation of the Atash Classiarii, the "Fire of the Soldier", the symbol of his order.
And then he was whole.
Light flooded his eyes but the drop suits advanced photo processors cleared his vision in an instant, as static golden HUD's formed the core of his vision feeding information through the three primary sensors in the Comando Suit's visor, indicating the status of his environment and his allies.
He stood. It was an odd sensation transferring from a standard leisure clone to a combat clone. Traditionally he stood a little over six feet, exactly how he had been as a mortal....but clad in the Commando armour of his people he towered over mortal and immortal alike, standing at full height at some seven and a half feet.
He glanced about the room. Ventus was whole, and had already pounced on the Matari woman..... unsurprising he considering briefly, they cannot help themselves, and rutting dogs cannot control their urges, neither too a Gallentean....
Galm was combat ready. Seeing the man Kador almost let out a sudden uncontrollable burst of laughter. He had heard the Caldari had replicated the technology the Amarr prided themselves on....but the results. Previously the Caldari had cut a dangerous figure out of the suit.....but in it he looked ridiculous.
Standing not ten metres away was Satja. She looked so small to him now..... oddly enough he found this fitting. This was who he was. The mortal form he took was a pleasant change of pace but in this body he was what he had always meant to be. A weapon for his God, a fire of righteous fury, clad in impervious purified armour.
The look on her face was one of pure awe.... and though he might never know she felt exactly the same way..... through her eyes he must have looked and imposing figure of 20mm armour plates and holy sigils.
With a quick twist he removed the helmet, saw through his own eyes for the first time in that body.
He addressed the tech curtly, but not unkindly, he knew the effect immortals had on mortals and did not wish to upset or scare the man.
"If you would bring the requested weaponry."
The man barely managed to stammer back a response..... "But.... Templar...you aren't deploying for ano....."
Kador tried to give the man a reassuring smile. " It pleases me to be combat ready at all times."
A few minutes later the tech returned pushing a tray with weaponry. He made to present they to the Templar but he waves him away and bade him his thanks. It was not the man's duty to do any more than he had.
Already knowing what he expected of her Satja presented the armaments to him as he T-posed, allowing her access to the mag locked cradle. He looked down with a certain pride. The Scrambler Rifle was a deep navy blue "Stormvein" Carthum Assault Scrambler Rifle, embossed with lines of deep gold, and shot through with pure marble lines, jagged, strangely geometric in their chaos. It was a work of art by the standard of fire arms. As much a symbol of the Faith as it was a tool of murder.
She made back to the table and returned holding in her hands his elaborately carved and custom fit Imperial Viziam Laser Rifle.
She bore the Viziam Laser Rifle well despite its weight, dextrously slotting the weapon into the cradle and activating the mag locks, before presenting him the Carthum Assault Scrambler Rifle, then began inserting the cells into the dispenser unit at his waist, keeping the Carthum's cell to his left hip, while the Viziam cell's went to the right hip.
With that she stepped back, bowed her head in prayer. As did he, finishing with his own favoured excerpt, and with a certain joy he saw the same mirrored on the Matari woman's lips. She was learning.
In his typically manner he began a series of ritualised calisthenics, stretching the muscles and keeping the limber. While the physical fatigue of his former body was now gone, a benefit of this clones vastly superior physiology, the mental fatigue remained and he could feel a head ache coming upon him.
He was combat ready, and would remain so until the mission was complete.
"Galm left you those." She said pointing at the table, to which he grunted back an affirmation to put them into service.
"Are you ready?" She asked him.
"A fool question to ask me little one." His simple response. " All Classiarii are made ready."
"Get thine Swag out of my face! Next you'll be writing #YOLOswagforJamyl in all your posts!"
-Dagger Two
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
9043
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Posted - 2014.03.30 11:19:00 -
[4] - Quote
Galm Fae wrote:
Galm pivoted over to Kador. Reaching behind his helmet, he undid the latch to his visor and removed it. While the lower portion that included his respirator covered his mouth, the pale eyes of his combat clone could now meet the templar's. The androgynous, streamlined features of his new body seemed more reminiscent of a Jove than his former form.
"Believe it or not soldier, that includes you. I test you because I know you can handle it. I don't doubt that each and every one of us come from our own backgrounds and we ought not pretend that we can understand the extent of eachother's experience... But if nothing else than I have faith in myself for gods' sake, and I believe that I can make it back from this mission alive. So if nothing else... Be happy you have me I guess."
Galm's eyes seemed suggestive of a joking smile as he locked his visor back into position.
The Templar nodded respectfully.
The man was a fool more oft that not, but he could not deny that the many had a warriors discerning eye. Comparatively, Kador never would have appeared to stack up against the clones around him. He lacked what he supposed many immortals possessed, a by product of many hours of intensive psycho therapy and weeks of theological discourse with the priests on Iesa II where he had trained.
This was of course, ego. Perhaps that was poorly describing it, he considered briefly. I was not a lack of ego, but a suppression of certain aspects of it.
As such he often acknowledged that to others he did not appear, or was not perceived, as threatening, perhaps why some derided him.
It mattered not to the Templar however. As long as his righteous purpose was fulfilled the opinions of Apostates and Heathens alike meant little to him.
" Aye" he replied with a surety brought on by Galm's own words. " It is our duty to ensure the recovery of this relic. I shall see it done. I have no doubt others here will see it done as well."
He nodded respectfully again to Jaques, Ermac, and finally to Denak with slightly more affection. He liked the Intaki well enough and wished he had been able to treat him to a congradulatory glass of Athran Spiced wine after the Bloodhunt.....but the fatigue had caught up with him.
Just like it had now.
With that he turned back to address Satja, but the woman was off doing her own thing, inspecting a drone as it skittered about too and fro. He chose to leave her be. He supposed it was time that he deal with Immortal "comrades" as they were.
He supposed he would prefer the company of Denak, or any one of his former allies from the previous battles.
He had fought with Ermac shoulder to shoulder, waist deep in Raider scum at the tank laager during their initial deployment. The young man had talent, and a knack for being in the right place at the right time. Hawkeye as well, bother strong allies to have at his back. He could not ask for more.
Jacques had been a forces of nature. Where he was present men died screaming. A fitting death for the heretics in that facility, and Kador certainly looked forward to supporting the Caldari Loyalist on this deployment, as the man had so often supported his own Order.
And Denak. His only friend here. Perhaps only friend, besides of course the woman who served him..... the pair had been through quite a few predicaments together and the Templar trusted him implicitly.
The others however looked to his eyes to be "fresh".
Ventus, as the files had told him, came of brash and cocksure. A combination the Templar neither had time nor particular fondness for. Confidence was one thing, Arrogance another, and a weakness that had been the undoing of his own people for a long time though he loathed to admit it. Every soldier had a Crucible on which they were forged, a flame through which they passed that would define them......the Templar could only wonder what kind of flame Roy had passed through to turn out as he had.
Sergamon..... there was much to be said about the man in the Templar's opinion, none of it particularly flattering. The pair had disagreed on everything, from persona outlook to the educated Amarrian having to school the poor man in Gallente/Amarr History.....
Junko was a new face. Familiar in some ways, like Satja, but in others so vastly different. He wondered if it was simply bearing. Was she even a warrior? He could not tell.
Galm....well Galm was Galm. Possessed of a surety and swagger that rubbed the Templar the wrong way, the Amarrian could not deny an eerie feeling of disease when the man was present. He could not know why.....Galm just seemed odd to him. Looked stable enough....but.....he could not put his finger on it.
As for other mercenary.....well time would tell. Perhaps he might even come to like the man.
"Is there somewhere I might take prayer?" He asked. A general question meant for anyone to answer. " If not a chapel then perhaps somewhere calm or quiet."
"Get thine Swag out of my face! Next you'll be writing #YOLOswagforJamyl in all your posts!"
-Dagger Two
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
9051
|
Posted - 2014.03.30 21:47:00 -
[5] - Quote
The Templar shrugs, walks away.
It was not his place to debate the finer points of duty and faith in the self.
Instead he wanders, leaving the mercenaries to debate by themselves. Soldiers were always like this in his experience, giving the newer members of established teams a hard go of it, either as a rite of passage, or simply a perpetuation of the cycle they themselves experienced.
It mattered not though. In time their pride, their faith, and their sense of duty would be on the line.....and they would either stand of break. Such was the nature of things.
He found a secluded corner of the briefing room and took a knee. It was no chapel, and he supposed he would have looked rather foolish to anyone watching. But to him the armoured shell of the Commando suit was a chapel.
Free of the oppressive pall of frayed tensions he could find his piece of mind.
It was a pleasant feeling. A sense of surety and stability, oddly cathartic.
They would succeed. He had been chosen to fulfill God's will beneath the heavens. There would be nothing to stop him, them, the mission at hand, and in the face of providence he would brook no failure.
"Get thine Swag out of my face! Next you'll be writing #YOLOswagforJamyl in all your posts!"
-Dagger Two
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
9162
|
Posted - 2014.04.02 00:28:00 -
[6] - Quote
Clockwork Jester wrote:
Inside Noah sat in one of the pews, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. His head was bowed and his eyes closed. His helmet rested at his feet.
The Templar entered the small chapel with a respectful care. It was a chapel made for his kind, but clad in the heavy armour of his Order he barely managed to fit through the carved wooden door. He was careful for the chapel itself was a wondrous place, plain, ordinary compared to the mighty cathedrals of his people, but this place had a certain air to it.
The air itself seemed still and cool, his suits internal sensors barely registered a change in temperature, but this was a feeling more than physical stimulus, perhaps something only the spiritually aware would, or could feel.
He acknowledge the presence of the Gallentean, bowed low, perhaps in supplication or prayer, and made a respectful bow.
It was no church to his God.
None of his Faith's holy symbols or effigies were present, but it was a place of worship, and that was enough.
In his own fashion he took a knee before one of the pews. The flimsy wood would not hold the weight of his frame, not in his combat clone, even were his disarmed, and began his ritualised prayer.
He completed his observances after a few minutes, ending with the Code of Demeanor, and lesson he would have to remind himself of during this mission.
The Wrath of God is Immense. His Justice is Swift and Decisive. His Tolerance is Limited.
Be Careful. Pure Thought is the Instigator of Sin.
Be Watchful. Free Thought is the Begetter of Disorder.
Be Respectful. Uniform Thought is the Way of Life.
The Mercy of our Emperor is Limitless. His Rule is Benign and Righteous. His Love is Perpetual.
Free thought is weakness, he considered to himself, only though Uniform though can I be strong.
He leaned back, still kneeling before the chapels altar. Perhaps this place was some Gallentean interpretation of the Faith. He had heard of such things. Perhaps if all such Temples in the Federation are like this they too will one day seek the path to righteousness. He could see a number of Amarrian symbols cut into a small cloister into the wall. Mayhap this was a general purpose chapel for all peoples.
He was interrupted as Denak entered the chapel, his steps were silent, but it was his internal discord that gave him away.
"Would you mind if I joined you two?" he asked quietly.
The Templar simply nodded.
" I trust our friend here minds not....." Came Kador's soft response.
"I myself am only a guest. I only hope I myself am not intruding sir. We are well met in this house of God" This time the response was directed at Noah.
"Get thine Swag out of my face! Next you'll be writing #YOLOswagforJamyl in all your posts!"
-Dagger Two
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
9187
|
Posted - 2014.04.02 19:52:00 -
[7] - Quote
Sergamon Draco wrote:Sergamon moves around,trying to find True Adamance.
When sergamon finds adamance,he walk`s to him and start to talk "Mr adamance i have business proposal to you"
"Excuse me, I will return shortly."
The Templar bows to the other two men apologetically, and rises, following the man out of the chapel and into one of the halls. Understandably he is suspicious of the man, and the Gallentean and Templar had clash on and off the battlefield many times. But as a Temple Knight it was his duty to protect the peace of any of his God's shrines.
Rather than decline and risk Sergamon's wrath it was better to hear him out.
The Code of Demeanor rang fresh in his mind.
Be Careful.
Be Watchful.
Be Respectful.
"What can I do for you?" He asked curiously, maintaining a respectful distance between the two of them, helmet clasped at his waist , face bare save for the re-breather unit, and rising up to his full height, looking down on the man below with a certain imperious stare.
"Get thine Swag out of my face! Next you'll be writing #YOLOswagforJamyl in all your posts!"
-Dagger Two
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
9243
|
Posted - 2014.04.03 23:35:00 -
[8] - Quote
Sergamon Draco wrote:True Adamance wrote:Sergamon Draco wrote:Sergamon moves around,trying to find True Adamance.
When sergamon finds adamance,he walk`s to him and start to talk "Mr adamance i have business proposal to you" "Excuse me, I will return shortly." The Templar bows to the other two men apologetically, and rises, following the man out of the chapel and into one of the halls. Understandably he is suspicious of the man, and the Gallentean and Templar had clash on and off the battlefield many times. But as a Temple Knight it was his duty to protect the peace of any of his God's shrines. Rather than decline and risk Sergamon's wrath it was better to hear him out. The Code of Demeanor rang fresh in his mind. Be Careful.Be Watchful.Be Respectful. "What can I do for you?" He asked curiously, maintaining a respectful distance between the two of them, helmet clasped at his waist , face bare save for the re-breather unit, and rising up to his full height, looking down on the man below with a certain imperious stare. Sergamon starts talking " Mr adamance i know we both have our diffrent wiev of the world,and i want to thank you that you give me minute or two of your time" Sergamon pauses and continues " I said that i have business proposition,so my proposition is this,if you are intrested selling your slave girl" Sergamon continues " I would be intrested buying her from you,and would pay hefty sum of isk"
The Templar's eyes narrow, as his face darkens slightly.
"Templar Ouryon wil suffice sir." A curt reply, he was prickly about the moniker some of the over zealous Templar Aspirant's had taken up as his title. He was nearing his the years where his experience and age would be respected, and time could not pass fast enough.
He glanced down at the man, noting the sincerity written on his face, something that served to both impress and irritate him at the same time.
"And should I....." He asked bitterly, decided that while this irritated his sensibilities, it was an understandable question the Gallentean asked, and not deserving of his wrath. "What would you do with her?"
He took as step back, putting some distance between his and Sergamon, hand's tightening around the helmet, taking a deep breath through the re breather unit. He was glad the Gallentean could only see half of his face, his mouth was set in a hard disapproving line.
"I thought your people were adverse to deal with slavers for any reason....." He paused, considering his position as Satja's master. "Why would you deal with me?"
"Get thine Swag out of my face! Next you'll be writing #YOLOswagforJamyl in all your posts!"
-Dagger Two
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True Adamance
Praetoriani Classiarii Templares
Praetoria Imperialis Excubitoris
9356
|
Posted - 2014.04.09 01:38:00 -
[9] - Quote
Sergamon Draco wrote:Sergamon look adamance, and ask " So could i have your answer?"
The Templar looks down at Sergamon from behind guarded eyes.
It was no point explaining to him exactly what being a master meant to him, nor being a slave meant to Satja. In the end it was a cultural hurdle that, he supposed, would not easily be crossed without showing him exactly what it meant.
It was duty, and duty he had been give to fulfil, to tend to the spiritual acclimation of the Matari woman, as it was her duty to ensure he was combat ready at a moments notice. For both of them it was a lesson, that duty was its own rewards, no more was required, and no less demanded.
He relaxed somewhat, the man meant no ill will by asking. He probably assumed he was doing something noble, perhaps he was even sincere in what he had said.
Using his suits internal communications link he contacted Satja.
" Little one. Your presence is required.....I..."
He cut off suddenly as the announcement echoed back to him across the communications network.
"We have little time....make your arrangements report to me, and we shall board the cruiser. Understood?"
"Get thine Swag out of my face! Next you'll be writing #YOLOswagforJamyl in all your posts!"
-Dagger Two
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