Monster hunting anyone?

[Kalaam]

I will post the story when I have time to type it up, which should be sometime tomorrow. But, as the title suggests, get your gear ready for some venturing into the abyss. Magic, rogue voodoo doctors, mad scientists, and good old fashioned undead are out there ready to eat face. And more. Of course, it is all kept hidden by a simple fact... Skepticism and especially, 'out of sight, out of mind.'

Basically, there is an international, and competitive brotherhood of monster hunters. A few work solo, and they all end up dead. Some work in pairs, and these are some of the toughest people on the planet. Jonathan Darius is one of the Magi, one of the wise, and one of the gifted. He can use magic, and quite powerfully. He is also loathed by the police, hated by most of his wizardly brethren for specializing in combat and death magic that quite often verges on the taboo of black. He is also barely twenty years old, and just lost his father on a particularly tough job, a Quetatsul, a Mayan hybrid horror. But, he was also set up, and he can sense it wasn't just something mindless. He needs a partner or three to aid him in hunting things down while he gathers clues. But it isn't exactly like he can put up Wanted signs around town or in the paper.

What he can do is put an add out over the Guild, and its wonderful internet system. Everyone who is anyone in the smashing face world either belongs to it or has access. Those who want to be in have to prove themselves, and they get records. It's pretty easy to get a record; all you have to do is survive something out of a nightmare that munches on humans like corn. There is another catch. All the top-notch people have their own crews, own teams and own partners, and they don't like to share. First, he has to find a crew of up and coming Hunters. Second, he has to train them and equip them. Third he has to get them blooded. Last, he has to get some good old fashioned revenge.

[Guest]

Lol. Sounds like fin. You can definitely count me in. I'll be waiting for that story

[Kalaam]

Well, to whet more interest and to prove I haven't abandoned the concept, I will post the OoC, under the title Forlorn Mists Ahead, and the first part of the prologue. It is four pages for 1, which is why it is in two parts. Ease of reading is important I find.

Prologue- Part 1

“Does Betty know you are paying for part of her tuition?”

Does Betty know I am paying for her tuition? The words snapped me out of my daze, and I stopped staring at the computer screen to look at the familiar voice. Hmm… probably not.

“That I am paying for a fifth of the loans? No. I saw no reason to tell her, and I doubt the government cares who pays it money.”

I hit the escape button to set the computer to sleep, blank blackness covering up the Guild.net screen. I half-swiveled the fake leather desk chair to face my father, Isaac. Despite the fact that he was also in the guild, my records and scores were still personal. While I doubted my dad would ever try to one up me, especially since he was my partner, any research I conducted was still personal. I still hadn’t forgiven my mother’s side of the family for the recurring nightmares from the potentia incidents, and as a result become so paranoid even J. Edgar Hoover as the head of the FBI would have approved.

Isaac, my Dad, snorted. Considering he was a conservative republican, his low estimate of the current gubermental nonsense was easy to provoke. However, given the current level of corruption in the federal government, again, despite assurances and promises to reduce it otherwise, I found it difficult to disagree with him. Besides, I was more under the authority of the High Council, and the Guild than the U.S. government. As formidable as the U.S. Military might be, one good wizard with a talent for havoc could short circuit every bit of equipment in ten mile radius. The things besides evocations a good battle wizard or war mage could do with black magic would be frightening as hell. Literally. But, enough bullets could even take down an arch-demon, especially if they were backed up by a platoon of tanks or a couple JDAMs. So pissing off the normal human population was not a good idea either. You could take the fae’s word for it. Some of them were still bitter about it.

On the other hand, no one and nothing wanted to piss off the Guild. It was the equivalent of the NRA of the supernatural world, except for three crucial differences. The first being that every member absolutely knew how to use what they had for weapons. The second difference was that the active members were something like the special and black ops of the same supernatural veterans. The current head of the Guild was rumored to have taken out some decrepit Old One, by himself, after the thing had wiped out the rest of his team. Anyone who could take out something on the level of a demi-god, at least, was one bad customer. The third was the most important. We made money. Tons of it, in paper. The guild has the both the military might, wealth, and influence of the old British empire. However, we lacked the cohesion. Walking into one of the seven Houses of the Guild was an interesting exercise in survival.

Dad’s voice once again snapped me out of my contemplative haze. He had no doubt noticed my eyes glazing over

“You been sleeping enough?” The concern in his voice was touching, and I actually felt bad about the lie I was about to pass off.
“Ya. So what’s up?”
“I was wondering how school was going, considering you have been busy night and day hunting monsters. You also haven’t seen a vacation since you joined.”
I reclined back in my chair as I considered how to answer the question without seeming arrogant. I moved my hands behind my back in a nonchalant manner. It was a fair point.
“Well, it’s going fine now that I fixed the faraday cages for the electronics. Most of the necessary classes are online anyway, and most of the labs are cake compared to some of the things we have to cook up in the basement. I made a deal for pass/fail tests to cover for competency. So far, they have been mostly pleased.”

Dad grunted, and started speaking again, but the bell from the first floor, my ‘shop’ entrance rang.
“Hold that thought, Dad. Business calls.”

He cracked a can and sat down on the office futon, obviously not finished with this conversation. I waved, and half-closed the door behind me. It was only a couple of feet to the stairs, which I half-jumped down three or four at a time. Not that the two-story building had much, but the thrill of some kinds of physical activities were a rush all their own. It put me in a good mood that vanished the second I saw the four people who were in the store.

My smile faded at Alex, Jenny, Carter and Kevin. No doubt they were here to pester me about some minor job that probably was a hoax, or some kind of trick to be taught. They were like my groupies, but annoying. Still, they generally were good people, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with their juvenile responses to the ‘supernatural threat,’ which if they thought about in any real fashion, included him. The amusing and ironic part of all of this was that they were all older than me by at least five years. I also thought that encountering some horror would have instilled some caution, not some reckless confidence that I was always going to be there to bail their collective asses out of the fire. I wasn’t some superhero, always here to save the day.

“Yes?” I couldn’t help it if my voice was just a little peeved. The last three ‘cases’ had been a waste of my time. They had all been complete and utter jokes of situations which any one of the four could have handled with just a little grunt work of their own. Seriously, some electrical wire shorting out and causing some voltage to fault was not a supernatural occurrence; hell, it wasn’t even unusual.

I was not reassured as Alex’s voice, which he thought husky, deep and manly, which was also wrong on all accounts began babbling his newest surprise with the same sense of import as Columbus proclaiming the discovery of the New World.

“I found a real case this time. Some serious bad ju-ju man. You should help us out with it.”

I repressed rolling my eyes. Another thing that never ceased to amaze me about these imbeciles was the fact that they seemed to think that they were the first among equals here. Not a single one possessed a handgun above a 9 mm, which while fine against most humans, is not exactly something you want on something as tough as an elephant or a rhino. Alex’s hoarse, smoked out voice continued to grate on my nerves.

“Some old guy saw a lizard thing at the movies.”

The raspy voice was a bit uncertain now, like he said something stupid. Was I supposed to be surprised here? Someone saw something unnatural at the movies? Heaven forbid and call the media, the sky was falling. I continued to stare unblinkingly at all four. It would unnerve every single one of them. A felt a vicious thrill of anticipation it making them all shiver in their boots, or in Jenny’s maudlin case, stilettos. Carter’s much more mellifluous voice stepped in to help his faltering partner, and I shifted my gaze to his eyes. He stuttered out a hello, and shied back. Jenny tossed her hair nervously, and looked like she had been insulted. Probably the most intelligent of the bunch, but despite a werewolf nearly eating off her face, she was still lost in the wonder world of Twilight and Tolkien. I actually liked listening to her talk, because with no real qualms, she was pretty.

My voice appeared to cut like a knife given the way the first three flinched. All from a single word, “Details.” It made me give a humorless smile with teeth. It amused me, but something told me to start reassessing the case when Kevin began to speak. The man was in his mid-thirties and a military vet. More importantly, he had a head on his shoulders.

“There have been multiple sighting of green lizards the size of small dogs, all of which something like an iguana and one which looks like a chameleon. The owner of theater, Richard Maes, has already hired a security consultant to help deal with the infestation. No real details about the creatures besides the impressions of what they are and the shape have been found.”

It was all delivered in a calm, cool, and considered voice. A dispassionate statement of his case, just like a lawyer defending something he knew was wrong, impressed me more than the pretentions of the other four. Unfortunately for them, this was a minor problem that they should all be able to handle by themselves. I didn’t really care that they weren’t Guild Initiates with the proper training and gear, but it was a simple case of the gremlins, Central American style. A guy with the stick could do the job. It would just take a while with a lot of frustration and cursing to make sure you whacked them all. I blinked to relieve their tension.

“So? You all can do it. Get a bat and go swinging.”

It was as close to a curt dismissal as one could make to those at least half a decade senior to one’s self. I turned and started to head back to the stairwell, when another man dashed in and began frantically whispering to them. I did manage to catch some of the words. The implication that I was a worthless fraud made me grind my teeth, as well as the implication that this was all something out of a kid’s range of ability to believe, another slight that pissed me off.

“Told you… no one believes some man-sized lizard thing prowls the dark…”

Well, hell, no one had told me about that. Especially the next bit that said the thing talked in their heads. I didn’t pause, but quickly walked up the stairwell. I ignored my Dad, still contentedly sipping on the second can, and pulled the screen back up. The Guild.net screen showed my homepage, with a glittering bar with 105 on the stylized red patterns. I twitched a smile, and saw the second one with 35 on the bar below it. However, whatever the hell the thing was it sounded nasty. I had some clues, and punched in the relevant information. The information came up with a long list of names, but I narrowed the search down to about ten, scanning the types. And it was quite interesting indeed. I thought the damn things were extinct. I entered a query and quarry report, noting the information unreliable, even if it was anything but before sending a report out to the main server. I was smiling now.

The next thing I did was look up some tactics and information, plugging it into a side simulator that spat out some information on the type of tactics we should use. I clicked the staff and bow of the three. It would be the least conspicuous at a movie theater, and my Dad’s best weapons. It was enough.

“Dad, job.”

I left the room and he echoed my thoughts as he looked at the screen. No doubt scratching his head as he proclaimed, “Damn, I thought those things were extinct.”

This was one quarry that every Hunter worth the name would be after. Not for the bounty, which while not inconsiderable on this pre-historian horror, but for the bragging rights. Ketatsu…

I was back down stairs, and this time glaring at the four incompetent musketeers.

“Get out of here. You are all done. This is the real deal, and none of you thought to mention the important details. Go. Don’t stay, beat it, past the interstate. Don’t come pack until you have something worth bragging over. Get lost.”

They glared at me. I glared back. I had killed a dragon; the best they had seen was a lesser lycanthrope pack leader, and I was the one who killed the poor bitch. Guess who won this one. They left grumbling about “how they hell should I know what the important details were,” as if a man-sized lizard that used a functional equivalent to telepathy was something not worth mentioning. I didn’t even care that they were pissed off.

“You, where is this place. I will take the job.”

[Mustakrakish]

This looks very interesting, and like something that I could really sink my teeth into. Let me know when it is up and running

[Kalaam]

Forlorn Mists Ahead Prologue – Part 2

The drive through Colorado was almost a pleasant four hours, except I become bored driving that long at the best of times and now I the same urgency to get there as man tied down to a Central American Anthill with honey slathered all over his nuts would be to leave. Needless to say, I did refrain from the “are we there yet,” but only because I was driving, and would not have been able to fall asleep in any case. And while this would be one of the few exceptions to that last situation, it was coming to an end as I parked and headed towards the massive building.

I had studied the blue prints, and despite the long drive, it was still only five o’clock. To be prepped in an hour and ready to roll out was definitely much better than any of my competitors could do for a similar job, and they had teams of people for the most part. Also, for once, I was uniquely positioned to be relatively close to the target of opportunity. Hallelujah, hail Mary, etc. This was almost worth calling the media for once I had got lucky; not just lucky, I hit the jackpot. I was almost jittery from adrenaline and excitement. For once I was acting my formidable two decades; this was going to be awesome.

I entered through back entrance towards the megaplex of entertainment. Ahh, Colorado Springs and its hockey fans were working in my favor. The World Arena was on the other side of town, but this place had no intention of supplanting it, although it was bigger. It housed a hockey rink, and Olympic sized pool complete with a separate diving well, a roller skating rink, a jungle gym built for adults that occasionally hosted massive laser tag contests, and the part that was haunted, which was a series of movie theaters. Whoever built this thing had more money than sense, which would also make sense if the owner was related to Billy Maes with the ability to sell anything to the stupid, gullible or bored.

Well, the back entrance provided me a way to blend in with my equivalents of college age, sans the mysterious powers and killing proclivities. Given what I was wearing, I would actually kind of blend in, at first sight anyway. CC kids were used weird and random shit going on to begin with. The loose hockey jersey covered a ballistic vest of Kevlar and enchanted leather, more than enough to stop this baddy’s claws. The same went with the pants under the jeans. The only weak points were my bare arm, throat and head. My hands were covered in black leather gloves which looked passably like those used In hockey, with some extreme differences, and the matted metal bracers were definitely outside normal fare. My hockey stick was just as unusual with braces at between every third of the stick. It was also carved with minute skill, and covered in a hard clear lacquer finish. While I would love to be able to claim such skill, and did to idiots who didn’t know better, I acknowledged my armorer as my superior in such things.

Anyway, I am generally regarded as good looking, with short cropped dark brown hair that slowly turned blond. Not because I wanted or paid money for it, but paid in sweat in the pool every day. The working of chlorine stopped for no man. From my physical efforts, I have a leanly muscled and athletic build. It all combined to make me look like one of the intramural college students fascinated with hockey, but not good enough to get on the school’s D 1 team.

I smiled slightly, with a fair amount of canine exposed as I walked through the locker rooms and back entrances. Dad would catch up pretty quickly going through the main entrance. Even if I was excited about getting this kill, I wasn’t stupid enough to draw undue attention, and the combination of both of use certainly would. While this was a violation of the hunting solo cardinal rule, not even monsters usually liked eating people in the midst of large crowds. Panicking mobs had been the trampling downfall of more than one stupid predator. Besides, if the info was right, it disliked broad daylight. Also, I was too excited to go in the slow way. Not the most professional aspect of this job, but we all have to realize our own limitations. So, I strolled through the back entrance of the locker rooms of this gigantic complex.

It was actually quite busy. I had hit a jackpot of activity, and that was said intramural hockey game, or rather tournament. So, I waved and smiled, keeping the stick diagonal across my back. Given the entire thing was co-ed teams, some of those smiles were genuine to a few people. Even if I am a wizard, I am still a guy, not a saint. No one expects a guy in his early twenties to be celibate and sane. Even so, I am professional enough to get the job done. Nothing would ruin the mood then suddenly being thrust into some horror movie where my date was going to her face eaten. Alas, work before play.

I moved through one of the access corridors up to the theater level. This place really was a maze, and the hastily scanned blue prints were still tucked into my jeans. Those were invaluable. I wasn’t even going deeply into the service areas that existed for this place. As I walked through the small hall, I imagined the size of this place was the problem. Like digging up old casinos in Las Vegas, there were probably some skeletons excavated here. The problem being was that the construction crew took one look at those impossible bones and went, “look guys, a hoax.” People being people; I don’t blame them, but I get hired to clean up the mess. Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t a hoax, and no doubt this guy got some bad press for people going missing during construction here.
I exited stage right of some movie showing. It was packed, despite it being an afternoon. I would have to find out the name of this one. It should be good to draw so many people, even before the commercials ended. The seats were packed, and a few people managed look at me in the fashion that I apparently deserved. They glared, and seemed to say, “no seats here.” I just wandered out of the theater into the hall. Also, I was still lucky, encountering a rather pimply faced sixteen year old no doubt cursing the fate that put him here.

I waved the three-dimensional glasses away and brought him in close. Of course, I do look something like a psycho, so the breaching of the subject to find the manager might just set him off. So, my general approach is that of looking for a relative. It tends to work pretty well, and the young man named Adam turned out to be quite helpful in my pursuits. He even went so far as to escort me to the old man. This would turn out well for Adam’s next raise. I do have to say one thing. Richard Maes no doubt hired the cheapest labor possible.

The manager was an elderly Asian man, probably with an ass for a father who named him Kim Chi. I took in polite Asian man. He had the look in his eyes. I shook his hand with a gentle firmness, and he smiled me. I also caught the glimpse of the protective amulet around the man’s next. He either believed, or someone in his family did. It was enough to do the job, if he had faith.

“I hired a defender. His name is Wayne Johnson. The right wing, third right, and the left hallway.”
“I’ll take care of it. If you meet a man named Isaac, send him my way.”

I waved and headed off. The guy standing at tickets took one look at my face and who I just talked to and turned away. If the manager approved, then this older guy wouldn’t give me a problem. I just smiled and flashed a piece of paper that looked like a ticket stub. He didn’t do anything as I headed around the dark purple hallways and carpet. There was a slight incline and a couple turns. The overhead lights flickered twice, and then went out. Shit.

I started jogging. There wasn’t any time to wait for Isaac to get his ass here. He was behind me, of that I had no doubt. Still, there was no time. The manager had clearly stated defender, singular. You never worked alone. Whatever it was just used some kind of magic to fry to lights. Hopefully, this was a primary effect, not a secondary one. I was not like the typical wizard. I had no spell book, I chanted no mystic sounding nonsense, and only occasionally did hand gestures. It was about focus and will. That mysterious crap only comes into play for lasting enchantments. Then it comes down to chemistry as much as anything else. Fortunately, I was good at chemistry. The bracers weren’t the best, but they were good enough to make some shields.

The engravings started burning red, a red tracer down the dark hallways. The adrenaline started flowing, and I stopped getting jittery. It was time to get down to business. I glanced back, checking for Dad. He wasn’t here yet. I started cursing in my head, while keeping a steady breathing pattern. The hair on the back of my head stood up, and I crashed around the corner. I was the cavalry, without the horses. And I was too late.

“Fuck.”


The thing was already there. I was horrified. I couldn’t see the thing clearly, but time began to slow down for watching it finish up with the security guard. Wayne was in his late fifties, pudgy, with some laugh lines around his eyes, now closed. The navy blue jacket and lighter blue buttoned down collared shirt wasn’t stained with blood, yet. I could almost hear the whimper. The thing was muscular, and hid in the shadows. But I could see the reptilian face and skull look back at me, the dark black eyes glittered in the dark. It was a dark brown or gray, and was built like weight lifter. Not only that, my darting eyes glanced down the hall, and found something just as bad. The movie would be getting out in a few minutes. This situation had gone to hell in a hand basket faster than I thought possible.

Everything still seemed slow, but I whipped the staff off my back and blasted it with blue stream of pure magic. The thing took the hit straight in the back, and barely flinched. It grabbed the man’s shirt and jerked him towards a nearby service door. This one looked older than the rest of the facility. My brows wrinkled. It ate my magic like candy, and was nearly gone, one taloned hand on the door. The metal door. There was an instant assessment. That man was dead. I hit the door with an arc of electricity. The blue-white flash snapped into the door and the thing’s hand didn’t release. It felt a surge of helpless rage and poured more power into the thing. I was going to kill it right here. The thing hissed in pain, and the door began to tremble. The staff arced even more voltage into the door and the thing shrieked. I smiled and kept it up until I felt the thing die.

The door swung shut as I smelled charred meat. I felt satisfaction in avenging the fallen security man, despite my heavy breathing. I started to stagger over, when I suddenly felt the urge to look up.

Qexatl was a loyal spawn. He was mine.

The thing was multi-colored over-sized iguana with folded wings. The head seemed humanoid, and the realization of what the thing was failed to stop his moving legs. It started to leap down from the open ceiling panel. I hunched my shoulders against the things claws. The momentum sent me to my knees and sent shooting pain against my shoulder. I blocked the upcoming ground with my face, and the world spun.

The next thing I saw was a multi-colored blur shooting for my throat. A desperate wrench in my left shoulder managed to interpose a hand in front of the thing, and grab onto it. I saw black soulless eyes rotate back as the mouth expanded far beyond what should have been natural. All I saw was a pink gullet and to two slits for poison. An instinctive jerk just brought the thing closer. It was nothing but gaping maw. I started fumbling for the hockey stick. Smaller green skinned lizards started attacking a few early leavers. I found it as the smaller, mono-colored versions of thing in front of me. I heard the screams of pain, and few roars of anger as they began to fight back and die.

The swung the serpent slowly against the wall, fumbling to my knees and whacking ineffectively with the curved end of the stick. The thing kept trying to swallow my arm, and I scrambled for ideas. My mind was blank. The stick just bounced off the hide, and I got an idea. I channeled pure light and the rest of my power into making the stick press down and leaned against the stick, slowing compressing and partly cutting the tough hide, trying to cut the thing in half. I lost track of the rest of the world as the thing managed to get around my hand, and began inexorably bending my thumb back. My heart pounded and I started slamming the stick down onto the thing repeatedly.

When my thumb broke, it recoiled slightly, and adrenaline shot to my heart. I slammed the head of the stick down in panic as the thing uncoiled straight for my throat. I slammed the stick down, picturing the energy cutting along the edge stick. It missed by half a millimeter as the stick pinned the thing down, and cut through a spine. It flopped over, and I slammed the head down, cutting through the rest of the body.

I stared at the dead thing for a few endless seconds. It didn’t talk in my head, and it didn’t move. I tried to stop hyperventilating unsuccessfully for a few seconds, and glanced around. The green mini-things were all dead in the originally form, spasming. I just killed a Quetatsul. I knew because these things were not supposed to be hunted, or killed. Mainly, they weren’t supposed to be able to die, or rather for even Master Hunters to be able to kill. I slowly raised the multi-colored head and stood up to the stunned awe and shock of the survivors. There were three or four. I won. Then my hand felt like I dipped in acid. The saliva was poisonous. I turned and looked down on the green things. I realized a few things. First, I had to treat this poison fast, in a way only a mage can. Second, I needed to do it now, before I turned into one of the green lizards. Third, my father was still missing.

I drew a circle in blood, and tossed the staff outside it. I collapsed to the ground, and jerked my finger back in place with a vicious black spike of pain that nearly caused me to pass out. The other survivors began to thrash. I sent my will into my blood, and set it on fire with magic. The blood burn was a last ditch effort for survival against poisons, and one of the few effective universal treatments for magic based substances. It hurt like hell. The pain is indescribable. It felt like every drop of blood in my body turned to molten lava, and hence the name. The problem with this is the pain can make you lose focus, and if the spell was uncontrolled, it was lethal. If you kept it together for too long, it was lethal. If you didn’t eliminate the poison entirely, the body was too depleted to hold it together, and it killed you.

Waves of red and black were endured until I could take it no more, and let it go. A few heavy breathes later, my brain frantically scrambled for excuses. This place was covered in blood, and there was no Guild bounty for what I just axed. I doubted Richard Maes would shell out for this mess either, and I didn’t want to take this to court. I leveraged myself up against the staff, and walked over to the door. I opened it, and the thing was gone except for char marks, as was the guard.

I slapped one of the other survivors awake and dialed a number. “Tell this man everything that happened. Tell him where you are. He will take care of you.” I started limping away, out of the theater. I would send a bill, and left the rest of the body behind. I was taking the head as proof. The Guild would get people here fast, and deal with the new reports. As a neutral organization, it was the preferred information broker for incidents too.

I stepped into a very squishy part of the carpet, and looked down. Red oozed away, down the soaked incline. Someone had died here, and where was my father? I looked around and noticed some telltale scratches on the walls. Isaac was either dead or taken. Otherwise, Dad would have found me by now. I limped out the door to the SUV. I waited for two hours, in blood soaked clothes and all where we were parked. He never showed. I was beginning to get angry now, and think things over. I had a list of questions, pages long.

I drove back to my place after popping a vicodin. The first that occurred to me was that they hired a defender, which had a specific connotation and meaning, and only one. The guy was a regular security guard. That situation was utterly wrong. I trusted the information with limited research, something I usually didn’t do. A Hunter, who wanted to live, usually didn’t. The trap was baited with something amazing, and how had those idiots managed to find a legitimate threat. The monster and guard were also gone. That thing wasn’t what was reported either. I had no idea what the hell it was. Even then, this was way out of the range for something central American, and mass sacrifice, while a common motif for them, wasn’t common in this country. It was too noticeable.

I woke up, in my bed, and swung over. I was finally fine, but my family wasn’t. My father was missing, and it was driving my family apart. Betty was worrying, and panicking about school in addition to everything else. Despite the large paycheck that had come in, and that I had sent to her, she was still worried. So was I. No one had found my father, but that pool of blood was definitely his. I tested it. It meant he was probably dead and I dead in the water. Before I did anything, I needed a team. I wanted to be an avenging hero, but I didn’t want to die. I walked softly over to my computer, and powered it on.

I did something unusual. I put an ad out over the Guild.net. This is usually not a sign of weakness, but the top players knew it was a sign of weakness for me, and some of them would be out for blood. Mine. I was too good, and too young for them not to try and pull down the new comer making them all look bad. So, no help was going to come from the pros. I had recruit from promising initiates, train them, equip them, and teach them, before being able to go after my father. The prospect of finding him, in any state was growing smaller by the day, and I had about a year of work ahead of me before I could even think about it. It burned in my gut, buy this wasn’t anything I was going to let lie, even if I had to wait a while. So, I sat there, accessing confidential information through Guild.net hacks, doing illegal research and waiting for some promising candidates to come to my attention.



So, prologue is done, and the sign up is up as well. If anyone wants an example sign-up, please request one. I will do a short profile on Jonathan Darius.

[quakernuts]

If you need another person, I'm willing to join in on this.

[Kalaam]

More people are still welcome

[Guest]

I will be in.

[Kalaam]

Clarification about most hunters- they don't have magic. Technology almost universally works just as well in most situations, and Hunters who have real faith work just as well against creatures in the 'Evil' category. The High Council is separate from the Guild, as one is for legitimate magic users, and they usually police their own more than anything. There are frequent conflicts over jurisdiction as well.

Also, most of the gear we will be working with are guns. This is true for my character as well. Magic is used as little as possible, as you will see in the next post, because collateral damage is frowned upon. Grenades, shotguns, rifles and pistols are all going to be heavily used, and thus, not having magic is not really a handicap.

[Guest]

I would like an example character sheet.

Are we only allowed to use regular people or can they be interesting people.

[Kalaam]

I will start working on it now. The problem is not that you can't be interesting or powerful, but if you are the latter, you already have a team or something of your own, and it is intensely competitive, so joining my character would be highly unlikely. You would get better offers and pay from one of the larger organizations. However, developing power is fairly easy.

[Guest]

Do the characters have to be human-humans?

[Kalaam]

No, but there is definite reasons for distrusting half-breeds. Elves are like the classical callous cruel secretive and horribly distrustful of each other, but it isn't unheard of. I am also working on a bestiary for everything I can think of.

[Guest]

I hadn't planned on elves, I am currently thinking but I have an interesting character idea already.

[Guest]

Hmm... Well, considering what you said, Kalaam, it should all work out as far as my character is concerned on the whole magic aspect. The scenario I included in his backstory was sort of a fluke. He sucks at magic. He only managed what he did because the kid was in danger. That said, his sword is enchanted though, to make up for the fact that he doesn't like guns. That work for you?If you'd like me to change anything just let me know.

[DarkGoddess]

Question: Are all monsters monsterous? Or are there ones that could be on the hunters' side? Because I have an idea for a character in here, but she'd have to be a Lycan to work.

[Mustakrakish]

My bad Kalaam. I had assumed from reading the prologue that magic was fairly common and wide spread among the Hunters, and thus wanted to create someone with a chip on their shoulder. I can still swing with it though, just make a few minor changes to my sheet here and there.

EDIT: What are the specifics of the Guild structure and opperating procedure?

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