Mission: Infernal
- Thread starter Persell
- Start date
Coyotekin
Catalytic Diplomat
Sorry about that. I've been doing the Motorcycle Safety Foundation's basic rider's course for the last 4 days and been wiped out.
Malichoir, even as he was known then (albeit with a surname at least), learned very fast how to use loopholes and fine lines in the city of Nexus even as a youth. He was by no means a child of a poor family. No, his father was in fact a well-respected bookkeeper for the Guild itself. Money was not so much an issue, except where everybody wanted it and you had to figure how to work the angles in order to get it...more often illegitimately, and someone's expense. SO young Malichoir became rather adept at understanding numbers, how deals were made, how to find the angle for your best benefit, and how to notice when someone was doing the same. This helped him become a leader amongst kids of the Guild and, by extension, kids of the poor in Nexus.
By his teenage years Malichoir could have a woman if he wanted, to please him in any way he desired, and worst yet, they looked forward to it and adored it. He was just that good. The strange thing was that he was all about respect and not screwing someone over unless it was necessary. He just thought it was bad business, and having your "customer" love AND respect you gained you greater power and respect than getting what you wanted by walking all over someone.
Many of his fun and games died away not long after his father died, surprisingly enough of natural causes. The local leaders of the Guild needed that position filled, and it was not easy to replace a person with such skills, experience, dedication, and great loyalty. Malichoir was the natural choice as he knew his dad's work, his affairs, and his many connections better than anyone. The problem was that Malichoir didn't want the job and rather liked his life so far. And some of his father's enemies, mainly those that coveted the job and all of its benefits, used this to their advantage.
Many accusations were made by senior individuals, ultimately seeking to get the young man killed as they saw him as a potential threat, as a possible replacement if he ever wanted it. The problem for them was that Malichoir's many childhood friends, as well as many other people he made connections with over those years, were loyal to him given the many times he had helped to save their livelihoods where too many others would've ruined them and not care a bit. And because of this network he was given a choice of exile, indentured servitude for the many "debts" his father supposedly owed, or as bookkeeper in Prefect for the Guild there. Needless to say Malichoir chose Prefect.
Life in Prefect wasn't all that bad except that damnable eye he had to have as a citizen. Indentured servitude might've been better in Nexus than this slavery. And it didn't help that through so many years of meeting people like Scavenger Lords, Dragonblooded, and even the rare "Anathema" (meaning powerful people you don't fuck with), he had learned quite a bit about history, the way the world worked, and the many supernatural elements. And it got worse knowing this was some human with an ancient artifacts of the First Age, like a child with a dangerous tool of an adult, was ruling it all. And this ate at him so much, because he knew there was no way to escape this enslavement except through death, or through gaining the artifact for himself and fixing things. This just wasn't a way for people to live their lives.
It was finally, at age 30 that he had gathered enough of a following, gained plenty of info that he needed to infiltrate the Perfect's home, and how he would use the Artifact (assuming his sources' info was good). He moved to set everything in motion only to have it fall apart because of one of his rebels siblings squeal. Realizing this, thankfully before he put himself into harm's way he ran out of Prefect to escape the Perfect's wrath.
The screams of others dying, his people, filled his ears, even outside the walls. All while he struggled with the effects of the eye. And it was at the edge of the desert, mounted trooped mobilizing within the walls to hunt him down, that a shadowy thing spoke to him.
"Work with the shadows. Work for those that belong in power instead of these children playing. Make your mark as you truly wish. And have the curse of the eye removed from your very soul."
"What? What do ask in return?" he asked through gritted teeth, body wracked with pain as the vein of the eye spread along his hand.
"Complete servitude to my Master. You had the choice as a slave in Nexus, forced to become a slave to an unworthy Master in Prefect. Yet with this Master you shall gain power like you never knew and the ability to wield that Artifact you so covet as a peer to the Anathema. And the ability to save those people, your family." the shadowy thing whispered, an occasional glimpse of glowing red, multi-faceted eyes, or long, thin, hair leg, could be observed here and there.
"Yes, fine. I'll do it. Please, we need to escape no..." He spoke rapidly, never finishing his sentence as the anhule engulfed him and spirited him away to Malfeas.
The name Malichoir has been spoken in whispers and more amongst people, a name those in the Guild in Prefect know well given never having been exposed to the conspiracy. (A fact that his Guild family were thankful of being left out of, and another point of respect gained for the man given his ingenuity) And the name has not been ignored by the Perfect, for he knows the man Malichoir never died, and he can no longer sense him. And with sighting of the man mentioned on rare occasion throughout the city it is only time before the Perfect hunts this man again.
By his teenage years Malichoir could have a woman if he wanted, to please him in any way he desired, and worst yet, they looked forward to it and adored it. He was just that good. The strange thing was that he was all about respect and not screwing someone over unless it was necessary. He just thought it was bad business, and having your "customer" love AND respect you gained you greater power and respect than getting what you wanted by walking all over someone.
Many of his fun and games died away not long after his father died, surprisingly enough of natural causes. The local leaders of the Guild needed that position filled, and it was not easy to replace a person with such skills, experience, dedication, and great loyalty. Malichoir was the natural choice as he knew his dad's work, his affairs, and his many connections better than anyone. The problem was that Malichoir didn't want the job and rather liked his life so far. And some of his father's enemies, mainly those that coveted the job and all of its benefits, used this to their advantage.
Many accusations were made by senior individuals, ultimately seeking to get the young man killed as they saw him as a potential threat, as a possible replacement if he ever wanted it. The problem for them was that Malichoir's many childhood friends, as well as many other people he made connections with over those years, were loyal to him given the many times he had helped to save their livelihoods where too many others would've ruined them and not care a bit. And because of this network he was given a choice of exile, indentured servitude for the many "debts" his father supposedly owed, or as bookkeeper in Prefect for the Guild there. Needless to say Malichoir chose Prefect.
Life in Prefect wasn't all that bad except that damnable eye he had to have as a citizen. Indentured servitude might've been better in Nexus than this slavery. And it didn't help that through so many years of meeting people like Scavenger Lords, Dragonblooded, and even the rare "Anathema" (meaning powerful people you don't fuck with), he had learned quite a bit about history, the way the world worked, and the many supernatural elements. And it got worse knowing this was some human with an ancient artifacts of the First Age, like a child with a dangerous tool of an adult, was ruling it all. And this ate at him so much, because he knew there was no way to escape this enslavement except through death, or through gaining the artifact for himself and fixing things. This just wasn't a way for people to live their lives.
It was finally, at age 30 that he had gathered enough of a following, gained plenty of info that he needed to infiltrate the Perfect's home, and how he would use the Artifact (assuming his sources' info was good). He moved to set everything in motion only to have it fall apart because of one of his rebels siblings squeal. Realizing this, thankfully before he put himself into harm's way he ran out of Prefect to escape the Perfect's wrath.
The screams of others dying, his people, filled his ears, even outside the walls. All while he struggled with the effects of the eye. And it was at the edge of the desert, mounted trooped mobilizing within the walls to hunt him down, that a shadowy thing spoke to him.
"Work with the shadows. Work for those that belong in power instead of these children playing. Make your mark as you truly wish. And have the curse of the eye removed from your very soul."
"What? What do ask in return?" he asked through gritted teeth, body wracked with pain as the vein of the eye spread along his hand.
"Complete servitude to my Master. You had the choice as a slave in Nexus, forced to become a slave to an unworthy Master in Prefect. Yet with this Master you shall gain power like you never knew and the ability to wield that Artifact you so covet as a peer to the Anathema. And the ability to save those people, your family." the shadowy thing whispered, an occasional glimpse of glowing red, multi-faceted eyes, or long, thin, hair leg, could be observed here and there.
"Yes, fine. I'll do it. Please, we need to escape no..." He spoke rapidly, never finishing his sentence as the anhule engulfed him and spirited him away to Malfeas.
The name Malichoir has been spoken in whispers and more amongst people, a name those in the Guild in Prefect know well given never having been exposed to the conspiracy. (A fact that his Guild family were thankful of being left out of, and another point of respect gained for the man given his ingenuity) And the name has not been ignored by the Perfect, for he knows the man Malichoir never died, and he can no longer sense him. And with sighting of the man mentioned on rare occasion throughout the city it is only time before the Perfect hunts this man again.
Coyotekin
Catalytic Diplomat
Game thread was made....