The Den Games Network Forum RPG
Page 7

Game Masters:
virtualoctopus, CKW, Wesforce, Nyerguds


The other two detectives who had been following Peter reported to Parker.

"Ugh. Umm. The guy is blind and he just kinda sits alot an does nuffin'."

Samuel Parker rolled his eyes and turned to the german dwarf.

"Surely you can elaborate on this idiot's observations?"

The dwarf glared at Captain Parker and snarled in a heavy accent.

"Ja. Ze subject is apparently blind unt yet has a form of knowink vere he ist goink. His rifle ist kept bundled up int rags unt is constantly plugged into his smartlink. I conclude dat zer veapon's smartlinked scope is a substitue for normal eyesight."

Parker rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'Typical of Peter to be so resourceful don't you think?' Pharis replied. 'Once again I tell you, hire him through your contacts. We could use his talents and know what comes next.' Parker dismissed the two goons with a lethargic wave of his hand. The dwarf smartly saluted straight in front of him and said.

"Jawohl, mein fuhrer!"

'Fuhrer? What's this crazy nullnuts on about?'


Something pounded on the door. Everyone, except obviously Raven, leapt up.

"Open up!" It was a deep, and not unfamiliar voice.

The sound burst again, as a fist impacted on the wood. It splintered slightly.

"Who is it!" Charlie had moved closer, and seized his weapon. He edged towards the doorway.

"A friend!"

Charlie settled himself into the alcove at right angles to the entrance. He motioned for Wirecat to come foreward and open it. He mouthed a 'duck' to the cat-man.

The furry hands of the shaman touched the lock, and flipped it up. He then slowly opened the door.

Outside, there stood an Ork. He was almost as tall as Tank, although his stature was much straighter, his hunched shoulders looking almost forcibly pulled back. He was dressed in a smart yet practical combat suit, and his barbaric face looked much more human than the average ork. He didn't look threatening.

Charlie peeped around from the alcove, dropped the gun, and stepped out sheepishly. The ork stepped in through the door.

Mary saw him, and recognised him instantly. Tank growled, and stepped back, gathering Dorodo and Linith to him.


The Mantis shaman nodded.
"Well we came here to stop the Daemons... so I suppose we better go and take a look at what we're up against. But we'd like to change first; we're still in travelling clothes, and some of us prefer more casual clothing."
She looked at Mako. He looked relieved, even though he didn't want to show that to her. She knew he didn't like the formal suits Shamans always wore when they travelled, but he had enough respect for the Shamans to follow the rule.

Well... here we are again. Korum thought when they met at the airport, some time later. Over his casual clothes he was wearing a brown cloak, with a big bear claw symbol on the back.

I wish I had some time to investigate the astral space here... I still have to seek out a Spirit Manitou to ally with. But I can't do that unless I'm completely calm.

Maybe on the plane...


Peter Stevenson hadn't detected the remaining two stalkers for a while. 'Perhaps I scared them off for good.' Peter thought. He continued to work his way down the street, his rifle hidden in the rags he had wrapped around it.

"You did well back there Sally, yes you did! You're a very good rifle, yes you are!'" He crooned lovingly at the weapon. A dumpy orcish woman passing him by rolled her eyes, not another narcohead roaming the streets in a drunken haze!

"Here's a good spot."

With that he dropped onto the ground, crossed his legs and began unwrapping his beloved rifle. He caressed the length of the barrel like he would have stroked the thigh of a beautiful Pizza Slut waitress in his earlier years. From his pouch he unveiled a small cleaning kit and began dissassembling the SA-126 with a practised hand. In moments the entire weapon was stripped down to it's individual parts and then Peter began applying grease to the parts that needed them. His mind wandered as his hands moved independently of his conscious thought.


That voice! The girl, years ago, who had been raped with Peter a few mere metres away. How Peter had plugged his smartlink into his rifle in order to help the poor girl. He remembered how it had felt seeing the world for the first time in years, the immediate jubilation. The joy that was interrupted by another scream from the girl. Peter recalled the righteous fury with which he had cocked the weapon and lined it up with the girl's aggressor. He could still feel the remnants of that anger as he had depressed the SA-126's trigger. He killed the rapist but had also killed the victim. Peter could still see the blood on his hands as he tried to staunch the bleeding on the poor girl's chest. How she had coughed up foamy blood onto the cold concrete. From that, Peter knew a lung had been perforated, the girl had no chance without a proper doctor. Peter was not a proper doctor. As his hands began to work themselves into a frenzy cleaning the weapon Peter recalled the final words that the girl had coughed into his ear as she died.

"Name... Sally *Cough cough* ...tell... mommy... love..."

Hours passed before Peter gave up on saving the girl. His tears mixed with the dead girl's blood on the concrete, he had failed her! Peter had killed an innocent person with his clumsy aim. Peter often wondered if the girl would have been alive today if he had just left her be and allowed the man to have his way with her. If Peter had just kept to his own business the girl may have only been left with a little emotional scarring and loss of dignity!

Peter awoke from his daydream with a start. During his nigh comatose walk down memory lane he had inadvertantly cleaned his weapon, reassembled it and had loaded it with a single 12.4mm discarding sabot round and had primed the weapon to fire. He returned to consciousness aware that his hand was tightly grasped around the handle, his trigger finger a mere hairs breadth from firing the weapon. With an immense mental effort Peter put the rifle back amoung the rags and wrapped it up again.
He stood up and resumed lumbering down the street.


Raven had been sleeping fitfully the past few hours when he was suddenly awoken by Tank growling.

"Woah woah big guy! Where's the fire?"

Raven followed Tank's stare and found himself looking at a vaguely familar ork. Generally, Raven found most orks fairly similar looking and could rarely distinguish between them. However, one didn't often see an ork whose posture was so perfect and composure was so calm. Raven yelped as he drew back in reflex and put unnecessary pressure on his wounded shoulder.

"Agh! This guy again! Someone wanna tell me who invited this goon to the party!?"

Tank's growling increased in volume and rose to his full height. The ork stepped forward in an attempt to meet the challenge but remained stoic and straight backed.

Nobody spoke. Raven knew that somebody had to defuse the situation soon or there would be a battle of the titans which was a bad thing anyway you looked at it. Raven opened his mouth to try and sweet talk Tank into standing down but it wasn't Raven who spoke first...


Crystal awoke, at last.
Piercing white light stabbed daggers of pain through her optic nerves. The room swirled, and it felt like she had a volcano in her head.

Fragging drugged...

She wanted to vomit, but dry retched. Each time, she realised she was securely restrained in an up-right position. She couldn't move. Even if not restrained, the crippling pain fromher lower spine would have immobilised her.

Maybe permanently.

Is this how it feels when you break your back? Will I ever walk again?

Part of her wanted not to.

Part of her wantde to die, right here, right now.

Its the pain. The pain of living like I have. I've killed many people.

Her first boyfriend, for instance. She remembered the crunching of his bones, as the Eurocar Westwind 2000 had ridden over him.

He'd never have died if I'd stayed in my comfy, secure Grexon upbringing. He died so I could get away. Others have died so I could live the life I have.

Faces flashed before her - Security guards, wageslaves, DocWagon guards, all just people doing their jobs. Killed by her explosives, for money, for her freedom...

A man entered the room.

No, even calling him 'a man' is too good.

Flanked by two men in suits, the blue-haired corp guy walked over with an arrogant gait. Crystal's gurney swivelled silently, rotating her so she was looking up at the bright lights of the white room. Cords plugged into her arm tugged gently, drawing her gaze to the huge arch of machinery that she was connected to. Various monitors and display devices displayed megapulses of information, updating constantly. Heartbeat, blood pressure, others she didn't comprehend.

"I've been waiting for this." Fiennes muttered, agitatedly running his hands through his hair, shaking. "Leave the room, bitches."

The two goons looke at each other, then left.

Fiennes continued, his voice, reaching a high pitch. "I've waited years for this moment! No-one can keep Daddy's little girl away from him again, bitch, I don't care what they say is wrong with you, I'm going to do this again, before you turn into a fragging Trogg, or whatever."

He moved close. Crystal's eyes were streaming tears.


The crowds poured down NeonWraith Avenue - The majestic gothic towers of the New Palace brilliantly lit in the night sky. The imposing arches and gargoyles did nothing to deter the frenzied crowd of antimagicists, many of them bloodied, or already tasting violence.

High above, suspended in the air, an RAF airship stood guard over the Palace. The bright uniforms of Britguards could be seen on the spires of the Palace.

"The Queen-Bitch! LETS GET HER!"

The crowd roared, and charged.


Crash's car didn't make it past the burning Tower bridge. Rioters still milled around, with Royal Police trying their best to subdue them.

"Oh-oh, here comes trouble." Crash told himself.

An IWS-make Police APC roared up, skidding to a a jacknifed halt. Three men jumped from the rear ramp as it slammed down.

A police Super-Intendant rushed up to the three tall, armoured men, and began issuing orders.

Seconds later, the three men formed a spearhead, flicked down their helmet faceplates, and charged.

They ran faster than any natural human, stomping heavily, leaving marks on the tarmac. Many of the rioters tried to flee the charge.

The three cops rammed the crowd with bone-cracking force, as if a truck had driven at them, not three men. A broken body was thrown into the air. Dozens were floored. The cops began punching and clubbing, moving inhumanly fast, breaking bones and shattering organs with their bare hands. A dozen rioters jumped into the toxic sludge of the Thames rather than face them, two of the rioters were human torches from the flames.

Regular riot police ran in after the others. In minutes, this mob would be utterly broken, if not all hospitalized or dead.

"Don't frag with the Royal Cyber Police." Crash told himself, looking at the Royal Cyber Police crest on their parked APC.

But this posed a problem - Crash and his Dwarf ally now had to cross the river another way. looking around, Crash spotted a flimsy-looking footbridge - It had a sign reading 'Millenium bridge, due for repair 2nd January 2013', in long corroded and faded lettering.

Also nearby, after the 50 foot stairwell to the sludgy riverbank, a Royal Police IWS Sea Serpent river patrol ACV was beached. Two uniformed cops sat smoking narcosticks, IWS submachineguns slung under their arms.


"Guess little Tankie does not recognize a friend... He did not recognize me first time i saw him..."
Behemoth replied. Tankīs growl was more intense.
He needed to dig up his terrible past.
"I am smartFace..."
Tankīs brain suddenly started to work again.
The ork kid who was annoyingly smart and who wanted to be Tankīs friend. That was Smart Face, or Uruk Hamer.

Tank bursted in a laugh. He could not believe that the pathetic smartface could be that big, defying ork.
"Long time no see... Tank." Behemoth replied.


Whoever that Illidia saw, she had been affected so much.
Cy was following the crying lady still wondering what happened.
She saw the face of Slayer. He had his mask pulled off.
Whoever he was, he had hurt Illidia so much.
He was going to pay... If he knew where to find him.
He had vanished since the riots.


The cellphone of Fiennes rang.
It couldnīt be. The moment spoiled by a call.
He pulled the vidphone. A blank face appeared. An anonymous call.
"Who had given you my personal number? Who are you?"
"I am the one who makes the questions here, Jason."
That voice... It couldnīt be.
"Yes Jason. I am still alive. However I did want to start a new life, with another name. People like you forced me to dig up my past. And I am really furious."
"What do you want, runner?"
"You know. Leave Crystal alone. Sheīs a friend of mine. She knows how to survive. She may be your daughter, but she is not your puppet."
"What will do you do if i donīt do that? Will you enter this secured building and kill me? You canīt. You would need an army...."
"Those were the last words of Salamander before he was killed."
Salamander. The Greater Dragon he ordered to kill. It was meant a mere desperate move, and he hoped the operation to fail. But it actually worked. Due to the effort of Dragon.
"Leave her. Or you will end up much like him. I am tired of your manipulations."


Tank's forced joviality was brought on by Mary whispering to him. They didn't want a fight here, and this Behemoth was quite likely to overpower them all. The Ork runner would simply have to hide his hostilies, and play along with the deluded ramblings of the other.

"Ok", began Mary, looking at the huge Ork. "What do you want?"


Shadow walked back into the elevator lobby were he had seen Fiennes go.

He noticed that when he took a different way he saw Fiennes go to floor number 22.

Shadow walked over to the elevator and pushed the up button.

A few minutes later the elevator opened and he went inside and hit the 22nd floor button.

The elevator went up and for a couple of minutes he stood in the elevator and then heard it stop and the door opened.

He stepped out and stayed in the shadows as he walked.

Shadow noticed two men from a room go out, Shadow had seen these two goons and realized they were his flanking men.

Shadow walked past both of them steathily and then opened the door slowly and quietly, peering in.

He then opened it a bit more, slipping in quietly and unoticed.

Shadow then realized who the girl on the table with restraints was, it was the girl he had captured.

He looked at Fiennes and saw that he had a kind of twisted mad grin on his face.

Shadow stepped out of the shadows and looked at Fiennes, watching his every move, not saying anything.


"I was searching for my Dragon Wing sword, when i came across with you."
Tank seemed to go berserk. Smartie, or Behemoth, like he called himself, had stolen him a kill, pursued and mocked him, and now he had one of these rare Dragon Wings.
"Calm down, Tankie. You wonīt reach anything if you go like that."
Tank asked. He remembered well how was a Dragon wing sword. A TRUE sword, not like those human tootthpics. With a length up to 3 meters, it could cut anything. A dream of all orks who liked melee weapons.
"Letīs say that I have to met enemies that are far beyond the usual." He said. He could not tell the truth about the daemons.

The ones who had not met Behemoth sooner were amazed. An orc didnīt spoke that fluently.


"Why me? Could Tyadoron use someone else?"
Draco thought. he was sheltered in the back of the cargo plane. He remembered the words of Roszondas before he left.
"Your training is not finished. Come back soon."
He was awoke of his daydreams by a Vladivostok operative.
"Lord Draco, we are approaching ANTARTICA. But we canīt get too close. Thereīs a blizzard. You will have to fly on your own."
Draco smiled. No one had called him "Lord" before. However, flying in the middle of a blizzard, with no levitation magic, and a chesplate was really annoying. It could be said that it was risky...
but only if Draco were a lesser dragon.


"Fall back!" The words stumbled out of Ery's mouth in horror as the deceased AET soldier clambered to his feet. The backpack-fed laser spat out one last shot, felling a Daisaka-zombie before the Elf turned and fled with the others.

"Retreat to the hospital!" With these final words, the last defending Elves turned and ran towards the designated regrouping point. Most were disheartened and bitter. For every zombie that died, it seemed two more appeared to take it's place. And every Elf that died joined the undead ranks. Looking back over his shoulder, Ery held out his Shamanic charm and muttered an incantation. At first, it looked as though this had no effect, but then the first rank of zombies collapsed, as the spirits inhabiting the bodies were destroyed. Ery called out to his second in command.

"We cannot hold the hospital. Prepare to fall back to the transport, we've done all we can here. We will attempt to hold the hospital, but be ready to retreat." The Elf saluted and ran back to the other Elves. They reached the hospital, and barricaded the entrances with furniture and equipment. Then the zombies reached the hospital. The door shuddered under the weight of the Daemons. Every able Elf in the building levelled his gun at the door. It shuddered again.


Woah... this astral space is a bit too crowded...

The shamans were on the plane, on their way to Geneva. Korum was in a deep trance, travelling through the Astral space closely around him. The Shamans had warned him not to drift off too far... if he went too far, his body might not be available to return to anymore.

Distinguish them... which ones are true, which ones are fake...

The physical journey to Geneva went on, as the Astral one lead him through the overpopulated space. He went on, defending himself against Hijackers, and trying to to find what he was looking for...

Hello... Shaman. Nice to meet one of you again, after all this time.

A Manitou.
A real one this time... not a faker, like the ones he'd met before.


Xecktos awoke again. He could feel the shuddering of movement. He was being carried somewhere, by something.

Suddenly, he realised that he couldn't see. He put this down to the cyberreplaced nerves failing.

He could still smell, hear and feel, however. He could hear the whistle of a low breath, and smell a faint, living odour. It smelt vaguley trollish.

He was being carried somewhere. By a troll.

"Hell...o..." he croaked. "What's... happening...."

"Oh... you're awake now? You've been drifting in and out for hours. Do you remember that place I told you about? The place where you can order a new arm? Well, me and Nasdak, my hubby are taking you there. He works there, as a security guard, so we might be able to use our health plan to help you...."

Xectos drifted off again.


"Ok. So what do you want us to do? We have other problems, and a friend to rescue, before we get out of this horrible country". Mary was slightly annoyed.
"Friend? Who?" Charlie and Wirecat spoke at the same time. Mary told them, she'd explain later.
"Hmmm...... the Half Dragon? She is not here, no? And she is also very rare, and easily noticed. I suggest that if you cannot hear of her, she is not here."
Mary knew Behemoth's words were true, but she also had an idea from Silvia's scrambled vid-call.
"Thanks for the advice, but we're getting along fine."


Polt was yelling something into the voicecomm. Sorrow knew this generally meant that he was needed to do something. However, Sorrow couldn't move, as his leg was still bandaged, and he was immobile in bed. So it was at least an hour, before the screaming stopped, and Polt turned up in the ward, looking red and angry.

Dark Sorrow sat up painfully, biting his lip to quell the pain, and pointed at his leg.
"NO EXCUSES! I have a job for you, NOW! IT'S VITALLY IMPORTANT!"
Sorrow pointed at his leg again.
Polt stormed out, flexing his cyberarm dramatically.


The goon stopped the car.
"Mr Alexeiv?"
"What do you want scum?"
He stared at the bodyguard. Grexxon corp. It had to belong to Fiennes goons.
"Our boss... ahem... has a close relative... that is hospitalized."
"Did he called me?" Wolf reluctantly replied.
"No... but if I bring you... my boss surely will be happy."
"Who is the relative, scum?" He didnīt bother about the goon had said.
"Wendy Fiennes."
"Okay. Bring me to her."


Fiennes fumed, staring at the 'phone for a good long time, as if it may have crawled from some deep dark evil metaplane, like the so-called Daemons MUNDI were rumoured to be fighting.

Sighing, he put the 'phone down, and stared at the ground.

"Damn you, bitch. You seem to have friends. Well frag it, I don't care. Grexon already has all it wants from you. We have your DNA. We have a ritual sample of blood, too. Your 'friends' will come and pick you up. We'll let them."

He moved close.

"I can make another one of you, if I want. What I do to her? YOU CAN ONLY IMAGINE!"

His breath was noxious, Crystal fought to keep conscious, and keep his poison words from her head.

Fiennes noticed the dark patch behind him.

He whirled - Shadow stood there.

"What are you doing, just standing there?" Fiennes growled. A moment later he resumed his businesslike mask and tone of voice, behind shiny black lenses.
"Come with me."

The two left the room.

"A man will come and pick the bitch up. I want you to follow him, and find out where he goes."


Wolf was shown into the Grexon building. The goon had driven though crowds of rioters, who seemed to be losing heart, to get here. The goon took Wolf up to the medical wing to see Fiennes, and hopefully Crystal.


Zizz and his cahrge had stood back as the two furious gropus had piled into each other. Chaos reigned as the frenzied mobs tore into each other, punching, kicking, biting, striking out with metal bars and falling over in the confusion. The snap of breaking bones were audible over the screams, growls of pain and the roar of general mayhem.

A human was launched up the stairs, slamming heavily into Zizz, bringing him to a painful tumble on the stairs.

"Gonna get ya good, prettyboy!"


The hospital doors shuddered with the impact of flesh against them, but held.

Moaning from outside - Deep, long inhuman moaing, seemingly weighed down with sorrow.

One of Ery's elves shed a tear, overcome by emotion.

Then, under repeated impacts, each more forceful than the last, the doors gave way.

A tide of rotting flesh filled the doors. An instant later, caseless hyper-velocity assault-rifle ammo stitched across the horde, opening dead veins and tearing cavities in the undead. The small calibre ammo had little effect, but the laser elf's beams tore across the zombies, searing through flesh like a knife through butter. The weapon's backpack whined again and again with each disharge. It cut through line after line of zombies, leaving only charred carcasses, but it couldn't stem the tide.

Ery found himself next to the Elf, at the rear of the hospital waiting room, as the zombies brought down the first line of rifle-elves, tearing their armour off with their bare hands, grasping at eyes and tearing flesh. He used his destroy spirit spell against the newly-rising zombies, and again it had good effect, but he couldn't see his back-up mage anywhere.


Deadeye had barely gone twenty feet when a strident voice boomed out in front of him.

"Sorry mate, can't go any further, this areas cordoned off. Bloody rioters."

"'Ere, Jim, 'e's blind, 'e is. Oi, Cyclops, 'ow many fingers am I 'oldin' up? Where d'ya wanna go, eh?"

The men sounded like cops, and not particularly good ones at that.

The city was still full of the sound of rioting.

Again, Deadeye's accursed wristphone beeped. It received a message, automatically translated into speck and relayed to his earbead.

"Your reputation preceeds you, Deadeye, if you don't mind me calling you that. We know what that is you carry wrapped up on your back, and that you can use it, which is what we'd like you to do. Contact Johnson at the Café L'Actione, Angel Towers arclogy. Lose the tails first, please."


Queen Antoinette looked through her magic mirror. Her head hurt terribly, damn that comet, and she'd had to send the sycophant Taylor to his quarters prematurely.
And now this.

The crowd of frenzied rioters thronged the approach road to NeonWraith gardens, chanting and waving banners. Clearly they intended to attack the palace, and their Queen therein. Somehow they'd put two and two together and decided to do it on the one occasion in 85 years that it would be possible, when her powers would be at their weakest.

"Tch. Just lucky. One berates oneself by allowing such tiresome people to exist as one's subjects, one really does. But then again, one supposes one must take the rough with the smooth. Time to show them they should be grateful for the magical protection and leadership given their land by such a magnificent Queen!"

Queen Antoinette slipped on her imposing uniform with its attendant cloak and strode into her conference room. The commanders of her personal guard stood at attention.
"At ease, gentlemen. Go to your assigned positions. Be ready to open fire... The usurpers must be taught that their Queen is always ready to meet a threat. The Duke of Northumberland will lead his unit out once they are stalled, to take the fight to them."

The Duke, her younger brother, the youngest guard officer, smiled, fire in his eyes, as all the officers acknowledged their orders.

The crowd charged. They stormed down the historic avenue, yelling frenziedly.

At first, men at the front started dropping one by one.

"Frag! The airship!"

The RAF airship, known to carry anti-air radar, missiles and 30mm cannon, was not firing its armament, but small muzzle flashes from high told where one man, maybe several, had sniper rifles.

"Keep going! They can't get us all!" The crowd kept going, not losing heart.

They'd covered ū of the distance to the palace, when the guards in the spires revealed themselves. They opened fire with their rifles, taking single, aimed shots. The crowd might have slammed into a brick wall. The front line went down, kicking. The second and subsequent line stumbled over their comrades. In seconds, they had all ground to a halt.
A sudden metallic creaking drew their ears.

"The palace gates are opening! Lets go!" One of the ringleaders shouted.

30 men in ornate heavy armour charged from the gate, led by a young bright-uniformed man on horseback.

"FOR THE QUEEN!" He shouted, brandishing a beautifully crafted sword, before riding headlong into the crowd, impetuously, his men at his heels.

He struck left and right, stabbing and slicing. His guards clubbed with rifles and bayoneted, with macghine-like efficiency and speed. They moved in a tightly-drilled formation, supporting each other at all times. Mercifully it was short. The rioters who had survived backed off, trying to surrender, throwing own their pipes and improvised weapons.

"I'm the Duke of Northumberland. Men! Prepare to kill the traitors!" The man on horseback screamed, maniacally, wiping blood from his decorated sword.

"Don't be so impetuous, Peter. I feel like being a merciful Queen tonight."

The Duke turned at the sound of his sister's voice. The Queen trotted out on her own horse, a brilliant white steed in royal crest barding. Though the Queen wore her armour, the guards gasped at the danger she put herself it.

"Let me kill 'em, dear sister. They are traitors!" The Duke grinned.

The Queen, to the guards and the rioter's amazement began questioning the rounded-up surviving rioters.

"Nice occasion?"

"Y-y-yes, your majesty!" Gasped one bloody, terrified man.

"Why are you here?"

"W-w-w-we, uh, wanted to..."

"Kill me?"

"K-k-kind of. Please don't hurt me!"

'Silence, worm! Let me Kill 'em, sis!" The young Duke pleaded again.

"No. All of you, you may go. But rest assured, were this any other night, you would be dead. Now go, and tell everyone what fools you have been, and how merciful and beautiful I am."

She turned to go back to the palace.

"Have a nice comet night!"


Unseen, one man had slipped from the crowd at the moment the guards had broken their charge. He'd waited under cover of the meticulously-tended trees in the gardens lining the road. While the Duke followed his sister into the palace, the Royal Guards got the amazed ex-rioters moving, again.

He made his move, keeping to shadow, and dodged through the gates, unseen.

Lightining-quick, he caught up with the Queen and the Duke just after they had dismounted, leaving their horses with stableboys, and gone into the main palace, arguing with each other.

"Time... For some regicide...' He breathed.


Shadow stood and looked at Fiennes through the darkness in the shadows.

He heard Fiennes arguing with people on the phone and it didn't sound good at all.

Fiennes said some words to Crystal and he listens for about 15 minutes of talk.

Shadow then noticed he saw Fiennes move closer.

He then saw Fiennes whirl around and he saw him again.

Shadow then noticed that the two left, he quietly followed them steathily and then followed Fiennes and noticed he shoved her into a room.

He then walked up to Fiennes and whispered to him: "I will watch over the girl for you.."

Shadow looked at him with his Prussian Blue eyes.


Fiennes pushed Shadow out of sight for a moment as the elevator arrived at the top of the building.

The doors opened, and the goon led Wolf out into the corridor, down it and into the medical room, wheer Crystal was being untethered by a med-tech, with Fiennes watching. A Wheelchair moved up, coming to a halt next to the bed.

"Welcome, I am Zaibatsu personal wheelchair Type 45. You may call me Oscar."

"Shut the frag up." Fiennes said, kicking the chair. "Put the girl into it, and get her out of here." He turned to Wolf. "Well?"

"Would you please re-phrase your commands?" The chair said. Everyone ignored it.


Shadow felt Fiennes' hand push him, he grabbed his wrist and then hit him in the back of his head.

He then swiftly kicked the two goons that always flanked him.

Shadow then ran in and saw Crystal, he first cut her loose with his knife and grabbed her and lifted her over his shoulder.

Shadow ran out of the Medical room and down the hall to the stairway, he then started running down the stairs with Crystal on his shoulder.

He tapped a couple of numbers on his wristphone and kept running till he got to the bottom.

He ran out of the building, meeting resistance on the way, but eliminating it on the way.

Shadow put Crystal in the passenger side and closed the door, then started the car up and drove away at high speeds.


Shadow started running down the stairs - Crystal was crying out in pain. Shadow realised whatever was wriong wither her, it was something to do with her back. He could be seriously damaging her spine, killing or paralysing her.


Fiennes got up and rubbed the back of his head.

"Security! Block off all exits on the ground floor, now!"

"Sir, we already locked all the doors to stop the rioters, and there are no windows that can be opened."

"I knew that." Fiennes grunted. He turned to Wolf.



Shadow stopped on the stairway and set Crystal down gently.

He bent down next to her and whispered to her: "What can I do to help you?"

He took out his 9MM and clicked a button on his watch and a timer started to countdown.

Shadow then turned back to Crystal and nodded to her.

He heard footsteps and then saw a couple of men, he shot them both 2 times, once in the chest and once in the forehead.

Then he heard a radio on one of the guards saying, "The doors and windows have been all way of gettting out"

Shadow then dragged the bodies down to a vacant part of the stairs and stripped both guards of there clothes.

He then brought the clothes up to Crystal and he changed quickly into the gear and turned away, not looking at Crystal, he kept on guard while waiting for her to get dressed.

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